Amatoritsero Ede
 

                                                  Not in Love

                                                             d                                                   

                                                this slap-dash of wave on wave
                                                               thigh on thigh
                                                               groin on butt
                                                                as the tongue of water drinks the banks
                                                                            a sloppy thirsty mongrel
                                                                                  sucked   the nipple   
                                                                    howled    whined
                                                                           in lilt and lisp of wet-slippery ecstasy 
                                                                                  licked by the waves in turn and re-turn
  how did it transpire!
 

 
                                                                e

                                not in love 
                                                    with a skinhead
                                                                     who is not in love with christ or krishna
                                                                         the dog barked in one huge bound
                                                                                         upon a giddy crest 
                                                    mist-headed
                                     and  behold papa hemingway
                                                riding  the lion mane of a tidal bore
                                                                                                         in sympathy 
                                                                   his cheeks flushed 
                                                                             from cramped watery grave
                                             windy hair blown  back flush milk-white    back into breakers
                                                                                      the waves unites us and hemingway
                                                                                      on the seaway
                                                                  he pleads   here is love                                                   
                                                                 which is life
                                                                                        struggling with a whale  
                                                                                                and a whale of a lot of sharks
                                                                               knife-toothed and soon to be 
                                                                                      food for bigger fish 
                                                                                                like Pi
                                        the thing that crowd his mind
                                                                       and that room      his life boat
                                                                                              was tiger     hyena
                                                                                                                        and sword-fish
                                                    dog howled
                                                                          the priapic hold of water
                                                                                                     tossed and buffed
                                                                                         by cleft-passion deeper than diver  
                                                 then  gargled papa Hemingway 
  in the rood
 rudder away rudder away
                           mercy for more room
                                  gaff!       there should be longsuffering
                                                         gone to its own noises
                                                        sea and sperm fuse 
                                                        in amphibious incandescence
                                                                          the child was heartburn 
 how did it transpire!

 

  
                                                                 f

                                     burnt      the dog barked
 beowoulf
 beowoulf                    
                                                                                   but  tumult of sea
                                                                                              or  chain-saw snap of        
 shark                                                                  
                                                                                                                            or neo-nazi
                                                                             is no classic of literature  
                                                                                   nor is the studded fist of a skin-head
                                                                                             down in dessau
                                                                                        a Nazi is a Nazi
                                                                                                 warned the waves 
                                                                                   write ‘neo’ on sea-bed
                                                                                                as long as you dare 
                                                                                                            in longhand or short
                                                                                          it won’t dent water
 

 
                                                                 
           
                                                not in love
                                                                   because the baby can be  
                                                                              a terror of water
                                                                  where a vegetable mouth
                                                                             should drink of life in sinful gulps
                                                                                         sift sun-seeds
                                                                     spit out the bitter grain  
                                                                                          the black martyr  could not
                                                 afro-German
                                                                                      he fell on a knife
                                                                                           on the road to corn  
                                                                 al-Qaida-ed
                                                                            under a iron democracy 
                                                                                               in gehenna
                                                                                               rachel will weep and weep 
 
 
 
                                                                  h    
                                                 
                                         where did you so lay 
                                                          your awkward angolan head 
                                                                              to waylay stones  and rocks so
                                                           worry fist-cuffs  chain- and baseball bats     
                                                               knifed-boots and jack
                                                                                              why harass the sons of moloch
                                                         hitler’s children
                                                                     gentle in mighty mail coats
                                                monster-lambs   sworn to perpetuate  
                                                                                              the gory father
 
 

 
                                                                  i

                         how did it transpire 
                                                                   that you traversed
                                                              the ‘national free zone’
                                                                      your ugly black face in tow
                                                                                did you not know 
                                                                                  of the head’s duty to the legs
                                             that the one  should 
                                                                    not lead 
                                                                           the other astray
                                              what is your rage      O adriano
                                                      that you must trouble these spoilt kids so
                                                        ajantala
                                                                        rotten to the bone-marrow
                                                                                will have mother’s doting right eye 
                                                                                                                             for dinner 
                                                     they burst your left eye
                                                                     did they
                                                                       as masons break stones
                                                     break your bones
                                                                to build hate’s sanctuary
                                                                         they did
                                                            what is this amour     
                                                                              with  
                                                                                   men in armour
 
  

Amatoritsero Ede won the All-Africa Christopher Okigbo Prize for Literature in 1998 with his Collected Poems: A Writer’s Pains and Caribbean Blues. He is Editor of Sentinel Online Poetry magazine, and in the editorial team of the online PONAL African literature site established for Carleton University, Canada, where he is based. His work appears in many journals and anthologies of African poetry. Ede was also Second Prize Winner at the May Ayim Award: International Black German Literary Prize, 2004. 
Not in Love is an excerpt from the forthcoming collection, Globetrotter & Hitler’s Children.
 
 
 
 

                                        Nicht verliebt

                                                          d                                                   

                                                dieses flücht'je Geschehen von Welle anWelle
                                                               Schenkel an Schenkel
                                                               Unterleib an Arsch
                                                                während die Zunge des Wassers die Sandbänke trinkt
                                                                            ein schlabbriger durstiger Mischling
                                                                                  sog  an der Brustwarze   
                                                                    heulte      jaulte
                                                                           im Singsang und Lispeln feucht-schlüpf'riger Ekstase  
                                                                                  geleckt von den Wellen in ihrem Gehen und Kommen
 wie's transpirierte!
 

 
                                                           e

                                nicht verliebt 
                                                    in einen Skinhead
                                                                     der nicht verliebt ist in Christus oder Krishna
                                                                         der Hund bellte bei seinem großen Satz
                                                                                         auf einen schwind'ligen Wellenkamm 
                                                    nebel-köpfig
                                     und  sieh nur papa hemingway
                                                wie er die Löwenmähne einer Flutwelle reitet
                                                                                                         voll Sympathie 
                                                                   die Wangen gespült
                                                                             aus'm  engen wässrigen Grab
                                             windiges Haar zurückgeweht Röte milchweiß    zurück in Brecher
                                                                                      die Well'n vereinigen uns und hemingway
                                                                                      auf dem Seeweg
                                                                  er argumentiert   hier ist Liebe                                                   
                                                                 was Leben bedeutet
                                                                                        kämpfen mit einem Wal  
                                                                                                und ein Wal von ziemlich vielen Haien
                                                                               messerzähnig und bald werden sie 
                                                                                      Nahrung sein für größere Fische 
                                                                                                wie Pi
                                         die Ding' wie sie in seinem Kopf rumschwirr'n
                                                                       und jenes Zimmer da     sein Rettungsboot
                                                                                              war Tiger     Hyänen
                                                                                                                        und Schwertfisch
                                                     Hund heulte
                                                                          der priapische Griff des Wassers
                                                                                                     geschüttelt  und poliert 
                                                                                         von Spalten-Leidenschaft tiefer als Taucher  
                                                 dann gurgelte papa Hemingway 
  im Heck 
abdrehn, abdrehn
                           um Himmels willen mehr Platz
                                  Gaff!       da sollt' Langesleiden sein
                                                         weg zu den eig'nen Geräuschen
                                                        See und Sperma verschmelzen 
                                                        in amphibischer Weißglut 
                                                                          das Kind war  Herzbrenn'n 
wie's transpirierte!

 
 
 
                                                          f

                                     gebrannt      der Hund bellte
b'owulf
b'auwuff                    
                                                                                   aber Meeres-Tumult 
                                                                                              oder  Kettensägenschnappen von'nem Hai                                                                 
                                                                                                                            oder Neo-nazi
                                                                             is' kein Klassiker der Literatur  
                                                                                   noch auch die nägelbeschlagne Faust eines Skinheads 
                                                                                             unten in Dessau
                                                                                        ein Nazi ist ein Nazi
                                                                                                 warnten die Wellen 
                                                                                   schreib ‘Neo’ auf den Meeresgrund
                                                                                                so lang  wie du's wagst 
                                                                                                            in Lang- oder Kurzschrift
                                                                                          es wird keinen Unterschied machen 

 
 
                                                          g  
          
                                                nicht verliebt
                                                                   weil das Kind  
                                                                              ein Wasser-Terror  sein kann
                                                                  wo ein  Krüppelmund 
                                                                             das Leben trinken sollt'  in sündigen Schlucken
                                                                                         sieb Sonnen-Samen
                                                                     spuck den bitt'ren Kern aus  
                                                                                          der schwarze Märtyrer konnt's nicht
                                                 Afro-Deutsch
                                                                                      er fiel in ein Messer 
                                                                                           auf der Straße zum Mais  
                                                                 al-Qaeda-iert
                                                                            unter einer eisernen Demokratie 
                                                                                               in der Djehenna
                                                                                               Rachel wird weinen und weinen 
 
 
 
                                                           h    
                                                 
                                         wohin hast du's so gelegt
                                                          dein unbeholf'nes  angolanisches Haupt 
                                                                              um Steine und Felsen zu überfallen so
                                                           sorgt euch Handschellen und Baseballschläger     
                                                               Springerspiegel und Stiefelknecht
                                                                                              warum die Söhne von Moloch schikanieren
                                                         Hitlers Kinder
                                                                     sanft und in mächtigen Briefträgermänteln
                                                Monsterlämmer verschworen den  blutigen 
                                                                                              Vater zu perpetuieren
 

 
                                                           i

                         wie kam es an's Licht  
                                                                   daß du sie durchquertest
                                                              die ‘national befreite Zone’
                                                                      dein häßliches schwarzes Gesicht im Schlepptau 
                                                                                kanntest du nicht
                                                                                  des Kopfes Pflicht gegenüber den Beinen
                                             daß einer nicht 
                                                                    den And'ren 
                                                                           auf Abwege führen sollt'
                                              welcher  Zorn ist dein       O Adriano
                                                      daß du diesen verwöhnten Kindern Ärger machen mußt 
                                                        ajantala
                                                                        verkommen bis auf's Mark 
                                                                                werd Mutters abgöttisch liebendes rechtes Auge 
                                                                                                                             verspeisen als Abendbrot 
                                                     sie zerschlugen dein linkes
                                                                     nicht wahr
                                                                       wie Steinmetze Steine zerbrechen
                                                     brechen deine Knochen 
                                                                um des Hasses Altarraum zu bau'n  
                                                                         sie taten's 
                                                            was ist diese Panzerung      
                                                                              bei 
                                                                                   Männern in Panzerung
 
 
 
 
 
 

Amatoritsero Ede erhielt den  Gesamt-Afrikanischen Christopher Okigbo Preis für Literatur im  Jahr 1998 für seine Collected Poems: A Writer’s Pains and Caribbean Blues [Gesammelte Gedichte: Eines Autors Schmerz und Karibischer Blues]. Er ist Herausgeber des Sentinel Online Poetry Magazins, und gehört zum Herausgeber-Team der Online PONAL African literature Website an der Carleton Universität, Kanada, an der er tätig ist.  Seine Texte erschienen in zahlreichen Zeitschriften und Anthologien afrikanischer Dichtung.  Ede war auch der zweite Preisträger des  May Ayim Award: Internationale Schwarze Deutsche Literatur (2004). 
Not in Love [Nicht verliebt] ist ein  Auszug aus seinem demnächst erscheinenden Gedichtband Globetrotter & Hitler’s Children.

[Source:  http://www.african-writing.com/ede.htm]
 

   

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