Lessons in Gravity: A Command from the Moon
By Mateenah Adeleke
We looked up
as we always did
planted roots at your feet
like we bow at the pulpit to God
like you are god.
Dancing in the shadow of the sun
I remained locked in your gaze
chained to memories of your reign
splintered thoughts impregnated with resentment
a past due.
My loyalties persist with the night sky
could do without a moon -- now for the sun.
2.
The man
There is a man on top
of my house. Each night
he calls me. I waited
for the birds to tear him
apart, for the sun to purge
him of life or the moon
to draw out his flesh I wanted
it to feed me patiently I sat
on the steps of the future,
hungry as the sun for skin,
the moon failed to sing --
I waited, the old saying clung
to me like some truth, ghosts
never die or something
like that...The man on top
of the house never stopped
calling frozen in his own metal
there's a man on top of my house.
About Mateenah Adeleke
Mateenah Adeleke has been surrounded by literature all their life. Their dad is a poet and can recall many library trips and receiving books upon books as presents. They love reading and how artistic words on a page can be arranged.
Lessons in Gravity
Poems from Museum of the Home by The Young Poets Collective. Edited by Anthony Anaxagorou. Get a copy of the anthology from our shop
About the project
Lessons in Gravity is a collection of poems written by young people aged 15–24 exploring themes of power, identity and the legacy of colonialism at the Museum.