Edidiong Bassey writes

VOICES

(i)
blend me into the songs
of roaming spirits
seeking vengeance
the grave houses haunted
memories of life's jilting hands
these ghosts are all spirits, the sounds of silence
playing their solo tunes
in mournful tones
the world here is not enough,
beyond is not even rest enough...

(ii)
see! i hear them say that
paradise is real...
i hear them say that death
is a peaceful and long sleep...
i hear them say that beyond
is far, far beyond...,
but look well...beyond is here
whispering whispers into ears,
paradise is the beautiful leaves
'dorning the happy tree of love.
paradise is here already, if you can see.
death is not a long sleep,
OK! if death is a long sleep, how about these
roaming spirits?
how about these solo tunes?
how about these ghosts that stretch forth and
squeeze hard, clawing this land here?
death is not sleep for all.
for here death is waking...awake,
death refuses to sleep,
death cannot sleep for here
the land is in shambles and so the
graves respond with turmoil...

 

 Ghosts of Past Desire -- Philip Sugden