POEM: SOMERSAULTS  By Ozichukwu Chukwu 

Somersaults,
Almost produce same results.
Some from haste;
Others insatiable taste.
Life’s an adventure,
Each with its contour.
No matter how driven
Ensure nothing forbidden.

Talk about trauma;
The spotlight of dilemmas;
I got folded, with everything in suspense,
And nothing exciting in response,
It was a long haul,
I skidded like a ball,
The noise of silence;
The cloud of pretense,
And shadows in darkness,
To transform to brightness.

Echoes of the dumb,
Rules of the thumb
Changing all, and remaining the same.
All in the name of a game,
No rooms for dialogue.
No doubting the catalogue,
God first,
At own cost.

All avenues shut.
With opportunities cut
I arose from where I started.
Not knowing how I landed.
On my hands, or my feet.
Keep biting my teeth.
And appeal to commonsense
To make sense of nonsense.
And when I’m done,
I was lonely and alone.

To somersault
It’s not same as catapult
To change the narrative
Are needs for the declarative
With the rainbow in the cloud,
You must not be loud
Or expressing rage
As you engage.
Do somersault in style
That you may not cry

Visualize, picturize,
And actualize
Trust not the bond,
Rapport with God.