CASSIOPEIA AT MIDNIGHT (2 page)

Alfajiri

Does your tongue still remember the syllables of my name?

Is
that why I wake up with your voice echoing in my head?

Empire

For a thousand years my mouth has been dry, filled with
bitterness, the taste of sand in my mouth all consuming.

water
is a memory, like names of kings burning in fires fueled by
books that recite names of endless kingdoms in languages our ancestors forgot
to pass on

I drink deserts and sift the sands between my teeth hoping to
find Scheherazade’s lair, or maybe the secret to my destiny

I build castles on sand that fall at midday, gave the moon
the water in my skin an offering so that I could work in the deep of night but
the darkness swallowed my kingdom.

I am my slave and my queen.

In
your arms, I walked on water.

Unravel
me

Don't you know the rhythm of your gait was written on sand
the day the first star was cast into the sky?

Don't you know the sound of your voice was captured from the
shore of a sea that now resides within a mountain?

Don't you know the sound of your
laughter,
was a blueprint for thunder after summer rains?

Don't you know the moment I met you I knew the essence of the
world resided in your gaze?

Don't you know the moment I broke your heart, I broke mine
too?

Conversations

What
do you tell your
heart,

 
when
it asks about
me?

Turungi

I
want you to tell me I broke your heart,

so
I can say I am sorry.

I

The
way I miss you lines my organs

and
stitches itself into my skin

Your
absence is a void filled with shadows

I
exist in a state of with and without

II

I
have found a word when spoken

drowns
me in
memories of you;

Your
name

There is a mathematics to the way your question fits my
answer, a science to the way my charge attracts your charge.

The kinetic energy transformed from potential energy is
enough to suggest that there is a dynamic subliminal to the reaction catalyzed
by our meeting

There are no such
things as Soul mates

 
Good men live
in selfless gestures characterized by gentle behavior that is too
unrecognizable to a generation of women who don't even know they don't love
themselves until they are faced with loving someone else

Good men die slow deaths with hearts ripped out or cut out by
those who profess to always be there but are too busy searching for validation
from the general public who generally likes anything
Bad men are really good men born out of trusting
the wrong person with something far too valuable to be hidden under layers of
mystique otherwise known as game

Wildfire

I keep leaving,

Running for the shore,

like
wildfire at the height of summer

You look at me like

you
are trying to memorize me.

Your gaze crawls inside me

and
sets up residence.

Our
first night together my body whispered,

The
empire has fallen.

Colossus

Men
like you can only be born out of the desert,

or
the Great Plains where lions
roam.

You
have hearts that carry whole nations,

eyes
that
speak in tongues,

and
voices that know the secret name
of God.

If I
was to pick a star,

a
galaxy

a
black hole

the
universe,

I would
find you have already named it.

II

If I
was to pick a place,

a
cave

a
secret

my
heart,

I would
find you have already been there.

Samsonite

When
they ask about you,

I
tell them

You
are the son of a woman who carried half the world on her shoulders

Who
gave birth to a soul that shines brighter than starlight on the darkest
night.

I
tell them,

You
are
more noble
, than the thousand warriors who crossed
a thousand deserts, climbed a thousand mountains, to prove their love. A love
that bore your mothers’ mothers’ mother, who bore you.

I
tell them,

You
have the strength of Samson, and a heart that holds the fire Prometheus stole
from the sun,

you
took that spark and laid it at
my feet.

I
tell them,

Delilah
stole the thunder from your laughter,

Cast
it into the sky

Every
time you laugh, the sky rumbles

Every
time you cry, rain falls

I
tell them,

Every
time your heart beats,

I
hear its echo within mine

I

I used
a black pen to color in the sun

I drew
my own stars into the sky.

II

I named
each tear after a star and

plucked
them out of the sky,

I
swallowed them whole.

III

my
ribcage built my throne

my
backbone built my crown

I wore
rags to my coronation.

IV

I burn
bricks with the fire in my soul

I build
kingdoms while you sleep

My city
of gold burned down at noon

I built
a kingdom in its place at midnight.

Dreamer

In the
end we hold on to the familiarity

of
a lovers words at dawn

In
hopes that when the sun rises

so
will the magic that once existed
between us

Magharibi

There is a wilderness in my
heart,

It is filled with fires and
strange things.

Swahili

Alfajiri-
early morning, dawn

Hadithi-
story

Magharibi-
dusk

Maombolezo-
to wail in mourning

Mashimo
ya Mfalme- the kings mines, in an abstract reference to Victorian era novel
Mashimo ya mfalme Suleiman (King Solomon’s mines)

Mungu
akubariki
- God bless you

Turungi-
black tea without milk

N.L.Shompole
was born in
Kenya. Cassiopeia at Midnight is her first comprehensive compilation of poems
exploring themes of love, vanity, loss, hope and the human condition as found
in mythology and literature and real life.

She can be found
on Twitter @
LuciaSolaris

Instagram @
NLShompole
or on her blog www.Kingdomsinthewild.com