In Search of Equilibrium

Theresa Lola

• Publisher: Nine Arches Press
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781911027768
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Poetry
• Index: Literature

Theresa Lola 's debut poetry collection In Search of Equilibrium is an extraordinary and exacting study of death and grieving. Where the algorithms of the body and the memory fail, Lola finds the words that will piece together the binary code of family and restart the recovery program. In doing so, these unflinching poems work towards the hard-wired truths of life itself - finding hope in survival, lines of rescue in faith, a stubborn equilibrium in the equations of loss and renewal.

"Theresa Lola's poems never fail to surprise with her breath-taking ability to create unexpected imagery; they never fail to move as she laments the last years of a loved one; and they never fail to delight with the transformative and healing power of poetry to create beauty." - Bernardine Evaristo

wikiHow To Find Things You Have Lost

(1) Try to remember the last time you had the item.

The last time I saw my grandfather with his memory was two months ago,

it danced on his tongue as he taught me about gardening,

about how you can never predict which plant will be weakened by weeds.

(2) Think of everywhere you went since you lost the item.

My grandfather spends most days ransacking hell;

hell is the heat of our crowded breaths asking why

he no longer remembers us.

There are two things to do when looking for the item:

(a) Try to get in the mindset you had when you lost the item.

My grandfather was a patient man,

but patience is useless to a man being pinned to a target by a clock.

Each family member waters the parched mouth of their search

with a can of anger in hope it will hasten the growth of answers.

(b) Be positive and relaxed when searching for your item.

When my grandfather transforms into Edward Scissorhands

we force pills down his throat to detach the blades.

(3) Retrace your steps.

I asked my grandfather when he first noticed loss of memory, he said

it could be that time         I was catching up with a friend

and the wind was a vulture snatching words          from my mouth.

It could be that time

I was ironing my tie for work          and Mona reminded me I had retired

from the computer firm years earlier.          It could be that time

I hid in my room for days after the mirror called me          an intruder

It could be that time          I went for a walk

          and my legs felt like two faulty compasses

until the dark green painted mama-put shop told me I was

never far away from          home.

(4) Search thoroughly for your item.

I led my grandfather to the tomato stew pot in the kitchen

and prayed for him to inhale memories.

Grandma says the aroma of food is a nest

where vivid memories of when it mingled with us is stored.

The smoke from the stew thick with Maggi cubes rose up

to his nose like a sky lantern released by a grieving loved one,

and my grandfather became a trigger spilling with memories.

He told us stories of Sundays when his children and we

the grandchildren gathered to feast on jollof rice and plantain.

To keep the triggers pouring I begged him to search my face;

though I do not resemble him, I can recite back our conversations

in his spitting image.

(5) Ask for help.

We have prayed to God for his healing to arrive quicker, made it clear

we don’t want to be lab rats used to test the stretch of faith.

We asked the doctor for help and the doctor claimed this loss

can never be recovered, and neither can the body.

Call me pessimistic, but what difference does it make anyway,

man can only delay death, not stop it.

(6) Take a break.

My grandfather has stopped searching for his memory,

I tried resuming the search,

but he refused, he does not remember what he is looking for.

Death: Definitions (I)

/dεθ/

noun

The plague that whittled down my family size

by one less grandfather.

Or

The tool that maintains equilibrium;

one human exits earth for one new one to enter.

Friday the 13th

Every year my grandfather is not alive

my grandmother blows out candles on a cake

spongy as a corpse and celebrates the parts of him

living in her grandchildren.

I am sure someone will miss me

when my age becomes a stagnant number.

If not, I’ll wave from heaven,

even if the world dismisses it as a violent wind.

My mother danced into my room with a candle-lit

birthday cake, the fire rose to form a chandelier.

She poured a song into my small hands

like medicine poured into a teaspoon.

Later, I went into school with my birthday badge

to remind the class I am not dead. Emma murmured

“no one cares”. She was a generous beast,

she gave her teeth to everyone I met later in life.

Insomnia is a Cheap Drug

Cause of use	Anyone who is hungry for a way to elongate the erasure of themselves will experiment with methods. Sadness is the silent syllable in every stored sound you know, your brain is in desperate need of emptying its memories, and not everyone wants to wait till their 60s for the body to naturally begin to forget or for a prayer to return with results.
How it was first ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• The Unedited Version of The Lord’s Prayer
• Equilibrium
• Alzheimer’s Algorithm
• Sing with Me and Do Not Die of Thirst
• wikiHow To Find Things You Have Lost
• Death: Definitions (I)
• Friday the 13th
• Insomnia is a Cheap Drug
• Lean Back as instructed by Fat Joe
• Crisis
• ode to edge control gel
• Sight Test
• The Pastor’s Daughter Refuses to be a Circle
• Black Marilyn
• wikiHow To Mourn: Mourning in Healthy Ways
• Removed from the Edge
• Balloons
• Judas
• Closer
• A Shattered Ghazal On Understanding Existence
• Dead Man Walking
• Tailoring Grief
• Reporting Live from Grandpa’s Funeral
• The Vow
• Pass the Parcel
• <h>Cutting Back on Work Shifts </h1>
• Moving on is Involuntary
• Death: Definitions (II)
• Lazarus
• Blessed Are the Mothers of a Dead Child
• We Rebuke This Bad Death
• Swimming
• Staying Alive
• Where is Ja Rule to Make Sense of the Apocalypse
• Death Definition (III)
• Portrait of Jesus in a Blue Robe
• Psalm 151
• Notes
• Acknowledgements and Thanks
• About the author & this book