Death by Pat Ashinze

they say death ends all our woes.
i do not know. not yet.
maybe soon. or later. or never.
my bible tells me my soul is immortal.
even other holy books.
and the internet.

but seriously,
it is hard to understand death.
we run away from it everyday,
like monks avoiding the touch of sin –
but it’s all encyclical and vaguely brusque.
truth is: death has a way – of making us make
our ways back to her macabre bosom.

i have decided to write this like i am drunk,
even though I’m not. seriously, i’m not.
i don’t feel like versing mystic aphorisms.
not on this. people get bored easily.
so, I’ll make this simple. very simple.

death screws with us all. a lot.
it takes the pearls and leaves us wondering
if God really cares about our miserable lives.
death sucks out the things that matter,
leaving dregs, dirt and regret as souvenirs.

ah… death!. alright… I’ll make it simpler:
death is the middle finger that life
points at us all as it whispers her
cold, numbing words in our mundane ears:
“Hey! Nobody has a right to be arrogant!”


©2018 Pat Ashinze


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Pat Ashinze is an hybrid of two major Nigerian tribes: Igbo and Yoruba. Writing, to him is the only way he can talk without being interrupted. He is fluid in his writings, revolving within the axial stream of poetry, prose and what have you. His works have appeared are forthcoming on The Pangolin Review, Penwood review, Dissident Voice, Vox Poetica, Academy of Heart and Mind, Writers Newsletter, Tuck Magazine, I am Not a Silent Poet, Communicators League, Motivating Africa amongst several others. Currently, he is pursuing a degree in Medicine at The University of Ilorin, Kwara State, Nigeria.


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