They Forgot to Frisk My Mind!

I went into the exam room

With a prohibited material:

My mind.

They confiscated my phone,

My mwakenyas, my prayer notes,

Looked at my palms

So as to be sure I hadn't written anything.

But they forgot to frisk my mind.

In it I had stacked volumes and volumes of books

All the audio files of my lecturers

All the exam questions

All the possible twists and turns.

And it was written all over

It spread from one wall to another

Of my mind.

Unbeknownst to the good invigilators

My mind should have been the prohibited material!

So, in the exam room,

With my mind sprinting like a deer

And as graceful as a dove

I threw in a dash of my self esteem

A sprinkling of my poetry and humour

And the airtight logic of my thoughts

Such is my mind, Invigilator

Such are my thoughts.

I have been doing these as long as I can remember

Pursuing reason in dim-lit pages of legal clutter

Walking through a labyrinth of a professor’s strange thoughts

Sizing up opinions, humbling proud edifices of theses and antitheses

But long after collecting my script

When the pressures have died down

I will go back to the library and read

That is how I operate

Books were my first love

They still are, still will remain.