Tribute to Mr. Bill Ward / poems by Daniel Aôndona

EXILE 

(Tribute to Mr. Bill Ward; founder of World Voices Magazine)

Grief is a venomous fluid traveling through my marrow

as it freezes my bones with memories drawing dirges from every part of me.

& I have learned how to fold every bad news into my body

that is to say, I have adapted normality from the pricking thorns of life.

I have received more than a thousand & eleven stabs from reality's stiletto knives,

but this very one is piercing directly into my heart; an annihilation of fragile dreams!

 

Sir, you exited from the bottom of this tale without punctuation;

not a full stop, not even a comma. You have exiled into the heart of a silent night,

leaving unaided memories floated away by dry winds

like autumn leaves taking an uneasy flight from tree branches.

 

Between darkness & light, you found a home away from our sights

In silence we thus fight, learning to hold unto this grief.

Like a thief, 2024 May 5th stole your beautiful presence from life

Leaving us like fragments of little broken things deprived of bliss.

We now carry your name, a burden too deep, too profound

As agony becomes a beck reckoning bruises in our poor hearts.

Rest has swayed from us, but we pray that you find peace in eternity.

Death is but a seeker roaming forever in our backyards in search of souls.

©️ Daniel Aôndona

DO NOT NAME ME AFTER ANYTHING BEAUTIFUL

Do not name me after a butterfly or a firefly. Do not call me a pussy willow or a

hibiscus, for I'm just me. There is just nothing tender, nothing attractive, nothing

beautiful about me.

See, to give a beautiful name to a broken boy is just another way of burying a bullet

into his heart. He will bleed; he will gasp for breath till he sways gently into the arms

of death.

Say, at times, light becomes a catastrophe bedeviling what happiness holds, while

darkness becomes a vigor gathering solace to slake the troubles we know. Thus, you

ought to be reminded that the sweetness of reality is just a thing of temporariness; it

comes with glee but never to last because life itself is not a trip through the boulevards

of comfort. It is merely an exile through different pathways of strife where we all battle

for survival. But even those who fight & win today, only live after all to die by

tomorrow.

To dust, we all must return.

©️ Daniel Aôndona

Daniel Aôndona [The Rhapsodist] is a lover of arts and culture, an award-winning writer of Tiv ancestry who hails from Konshisha, Benue State, Nigeria. He is a member of Hilltop creative arts foundation, the founder and mentor of The Newborn Poets, and the Editor-in-chief at Words-Empire Magazine. He is a spoken word artiste, short story writer, book reviewer, a poet and enthusiast of literature-in-English who writes from Abuja, with his works published or forthcoming on literary magazines like, Synchronized chaos, Spillwords magazine, Arts lounge, Power poetry, Words-Empire, The muse journal, Words Rhymes & Rhythms, World voices, D'litReview, Ta Adesa, All Poetry, Paper Lanterns and others within and outside Nigeria.

Daniel can be reached on his social media platforms@ Facebook_ Daniel Aôndona_ Instagram_ daniel_aondona_ Twitter (X)_ @aondonadaniel30