Dike Okoro
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Dikì Okoro, a critic and scholar of African/Caribbean literature, teaches World
Literature at Olive Harvey College , Chicago . He is the author of the poetry
collection, Dance of the Heart (Malthouse/MSU Press, 2007).
Literature at Olive Harvey College , Chicago . He is the author of the poetry
collection, Dance of the Heart (Malthouse/MSU Press, 2007).
SEAS OF HARVEST
This morning the heart pleases itself again
With the shells of peace
My love has set over seas
To untie a robe of remembrance
For rivers bleeding
When will regrets free the blind?
When will flowers embrace frozen clamors?
When will the sun expose the thud of thieves?
I send to the sky
This solo dream repeating
The ambition of the lone ribbon
I send to the sky
This voice speaking of infinite reaches
So fires shall roar beyond elevation
There shall be promise again
After bloodshed
And kisses shall lead the way
After hisses
This morning the heart pleases itself again
Hope is the thunder pulling down walls
Victory is the light rising in the clouds
For my love that set over seas
FOR OBAMA
The future of dreams
Rests in believing!
Your face is
The song of many martyrs
And the sun of many hearts
Your smile is
The entrance many await,
Both those afraid
And those unafraid,
When what seemed unreal
Suddenly becomes real.
THE PRAYER I SAID
It was not meant for saints looking
For repentance in the furnace of forgiveness
It was not meant for today’s child holding book
While yesterday’s laughs mock his look
It was not meant for the wisdom lost
In the freedom of a drunkard
It was meant for the fish that broke the bait
To arrest the fisherman with astonishment
It was meant for the song that troubled night’s soul
Where children buried innocence in the eye of the moon
It was meant for the peacemaker, that carrier of
Old eyes and a quiet longing, where the bone
In the throat is the prayer of the goat dragged to
The slaughter slab, its bleat the elation misunderstood!
SHOLA
Moon and sun meet
At the confluence
Of your smile
How many shadows
You have left
Stranded
At the periphery
Of your eclipse
Remains
The wanderers curse
I saw you
Where your suitors
Mopped sweat
From their brows
To welcome
Back into their hearts
The bite of the desert
You danced
Even when you
Were not dancing,
Your eyes a
Monument built
From peace
Gained with ease
Sweet song
Of my neighborhood
When youth burned
And chivalry stalked
Boys with the blade
Of cupid
This voice fanning
Out across the past,
Dusts the mirror of memory
With moments unfolding
To paint a heart
With your name