{"id":211,"date":"2011-05-19T10:12:49","date_gmt":"2011-05-19T10:12:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/?page_id=211"},"modified":"2012-02-08T06:29:18","modified_gmt":"2012-02-08T06:29:18","slug":"wale-adebanwi","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/writings\/poetry\/wale-adebanwi\/","title":{"rendered":"Wale Adebanwi"},"content":{"rendered":"

Easy Motion<\/strong><\/h1>\n

It wasn\u2019t in Marrakesh that he met her<\/p>\n

Not in Fes, either \u2013 even though he was stunned by her stupefying beauty.<\/p>\n

He would have loved to meet her in the former, though, in<\/p>\n

the \u2018Red City,\u2019 or near the foothills of the snow-capped Atlas Mountain,<\/p>\n

pouting her lyrical lips at sonic tensions.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But he never made it there – initially.<\/p>\n

He did not even know her name.<\/p>\n

For a while, he couldn\u2019t even remember where he met her,<\/p>\n

or if he met her at all.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Yet, she reminded him of the ethical necessity of unethical things.<\/p>\n

Despite the odiousness of it all<\/p>\n

he sought her ardour in the odd places.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u2018What is your name, by the way?\u2019<\/p>\n

She – whose way he sought.<\/p>\n

But she did not respond,<\/p>\n

rather, she looked away from him with sensual spite<\/p>\n

lifting the strands of the hair that fell on her face with a lithe finger….<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She is a sermon waiting to be delivered;<\/p>\n

she\u2019s wrapped in the robes that the celestials seek to lift.<\/p>\n

When the surplus of meaning confronts the meaning of surplus,<\/p>\n

even Ricoeur would dance to her tonalities.<\/p>\n

Moroccan beauty, ask the Berber, your progenitors,<\/p>\n

didn\u2019t they conclude that \u2018silence is the door of consent\u2019?<\/p>\n

When is your silence?<\/p>\n

\u2018Cause, he is seeking for your door….<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What did the sun promise the moon?<\/p>\n

A substitutionary kiss, or just a kiss?<\/p>\n

Or a redemptive touch, stolen while she was moonlighting?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Look towards Fes and let the ancient imperial city<\/p>\n

transport you towards Paris, the migrating city.<\/p>\n

There, let him say to you, what the sermon said to the mount<\/p>\n

Go ye, therefore….<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beyond the journey, the preacher would remind you of the Berber proverb,<\/p>\n

\u2018If God were not forgiving,<\/p>\n

Heaven would be empty\u2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Easy motion….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Easy Motion It wasn\u2019t in Marrakesh that he met her Not in Fes, either \u2013 even though he was stunned by her stupefying beauty. He would have loved to meet her in the former, though, in the \u2018Red City,\u2019 or near the foothills of the snow-capped Atlas Mountain, pouting her lyrical lips at sonic tensions. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"parent":203,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"authorpoetry.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-211","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/211","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=211"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/211\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":968,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/211\/revisions\/968"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/203"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=211"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}