No Umbrella



No Umbrella



I have made an appointment with my destiny

never to go out with an umbrella,

never to cover my head and face

with a nylon shirt to soak up the wetness

dripping down my body when it rains;

I have decided to dip my body

where the water is deep and thick

that I might be as damp as dews

licking up the dryness of the grass.


I know you will think I am crazy

when the rain makes me cold or freezing,

and my hands are limp, my feet trembling,

when, like the duck, I cannot fly away

from the pursuit of pests or forays of arrows;

when I stand on the spot of the sniper

I cannot skip away to save my skin.


But these are basic calculators of ordinary men

who take up their rescue in their slippery hands

and battle in vain against the inevitable;

I did not ask to be born or dead,

nor was my conception the fruit of my labour;

all that happened have become my miracle,

and if I am not wet, how will it go on?



Jonathan Chibuike Ukah


Jonathan Chibuike Ukah is a graduate of English and Law living in the UK. His poems have appeared and will soon appear in the Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Boomerlit magazine, the Sparrows Trombone, New Note Poetry, New Reader Magazine, the Pierian, Wildfire Words, Discretionary Love magazine, the Poet Magazine, etc. He is a winner of the Voices of Lincoln Poetry Contest 2022. 

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