I dream sometimes of suns—
They are lost in this cave of storms,

I dream sometimes of storms
On skyward reins of a thirsty earth

As ants, burdened, yet a grieving shadow
To exiles of sap, drawn as moons

And I hear them scuttle only where
Papa’s wine usurps mother’s breasts;

Lone as the tongue that recalls, as our
Roof who casted mangoes used to kiss.

I dream sometimes of kernels, earthed,
As marooned tribes of the world—

Burrowing voices, a mind’s penance
Shriveled in time’s progression

I dream of barns, for now I see walls
I dream of dance, for now I see haste

Lest, seeing, I mourn for eternities
That receding skin where furrows lie;

All that lies mocks a dying cloud
Survived by long forgotten mists…

Lover, you have become as mist
I dream sometimes of you in sessions:

“Do you miss me?” “When will you return?”
PHONE STATIC— “Have a nice day now.”

Or a nice month it was. Or year. Or decade.
Incessant fears prolong the path of hope

Yet I dream sometimes of your touch
Upon this dangling telephone wire.


Post image by emilykneeter via Flickr

About the Author:

IMG_20150622_231020Oyin Oludipe is the Nonfiction Editor of Expound, a magazine of arts and aesthetics. He is a young Nigerian poet, blogger, playwright, essayist, critic, columnist and copywriter. He contributed to the anthology, “Footmarks: Poems on 100 Years of Nigeria’s Nationhood” with his poems, “Student” and “The Rage is Red”. His works have been published by The New Black Magazine, Ehanom Review, Ijagun Poetry Journal, The Kalahari Review, Praxis Magazine for Arts and Literature, The Literary Vox, Kaanem Art Magazine, Kalamu Review, Pulse.ng, The Guardian and other Nigerian dailies. Oyin’s major influence is the Nigerian Nobel Laureate and Playwright, Wole Soyinka.

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I'm finishing up a phd at Duke University where I study African novels, which I believe are some of the loveliest things ever written. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

6 Responses to “Dream | by Oyin Oludipe | African Poetry” Subscribe

  1. Celestine Chimmumunefenwuanya Victorson 2015/10/16 at 3:07 pm #

    I hope you’d write like Prof. Wole very soon.Your lines hang his muse’s aura.And am sure.

  2. Sola 2015/10/19 at 8:05 am #

    “I dream sometimes of kernels, earthed,
    As marooned tribes of the world.”

    A serious nostalgia breathes through these lines. Wonderful poem, Oyin.

  3. Olanike Fowora 2015/10/19 at 2:08 pm #

    Very well written! Reading this has left me with dreams. Lol Oyin’s lines are so vivid, full of imageries and haunting thoughts.

  4. Jumoke 2015/10/19 at 2:33 pm #

    I love his mastery of language!

  5. ehindola 2015/10/22 at 3:09 pm #

    You once again blend bisected aspects of human most disturbed side with serious and provocative images.

  6. Mide 2015/10/24 at 8:54 am #

    Fine writing… I enjoyed your poetry

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I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

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