Photo Series – Lagos Island #1

There’s a palpable, breathable melancholy about Lagos Island. It is a wild and claustrophobic place. It is beautiful, quiet, and noisy. Sparse, congested, and industrial. Ugly, fascinating, and begging-to-be-photographed. I took some pictures and captioned them with lines from one of my favourite Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poems, God’s Grandeur. 

“The world is charged with the grandeur of God.”
“It will flame out, like shining from shook foil”
“It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil”
“And for all this, nature is never spent;”
“There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;”
“And though the last lights off the black West went”
“Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —”
“Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.”

Dead People (And Goodbye)

Dead people don’t say nothing
This is a lie, they be talking all the time,
Like the narrator of sad film
Who be yapping when the characters be doing things

Dead people don’t just die
They disappear into nothing
From nothing to something
To nothing again

But they be talking all the time,
Reminding you of their softness
And the stories only dem fit corroborate

They be teaching you things, if you listen
How to make hay
And do a stitch before Sun sleeps
And how not to run into swamp

They be reappearing
And making you sad
And happy
And be teaching you things

Hey everyone, there you have it. The final bit of poetry on this website. It was partly inspired by Marlon James’ A Brief History of Seven Killings. The syntax of the poem is based on the cadence of one the book’s characters

I have to say the biggest thank you for sticking with me through the changes in name (poetryispeace, remember?) and appearance. For enduring the many cringeworthy poems and prose and for liking and commenting on the good ones too. This place has often been my catharsis and I have formed a few friendships and many acquaintances in the process. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
What next?

  • The website will stay up (till  I change my mind)
  • When the time is right, I’ll provide the link(s) to my new abodes on these internet streets.
  • I may or may not revamp or move this site, modifying it to include other bits of my life outside of writing. (This goodbye may prove to be short).

Again, thank you!