After Omodero David Oghenekaro’s “Where The Poem Begins”
It’s the frequent & lousy nightmares that wear me down
into the thought of my demised father; a truth crystallising
I never yearn to let my lines agonized like burning bones which I do not own,
as it once did after my grandfather’s ancestral expedition to becoming lineage of stars
How do I envision the condition of my eyes, when its voodoo is sacrificing tears?
I looked into my father’s eyes, I never knew it was death I saw
God! I call you with a pitch of respect in this talkative rain
like Jesus the savior, on the cross, incarnating
“Heli heli lama sabaqtani”
because I know your miracle is in progression
& I know God will never renounce me as he never renounced Jesus
The rain succumbed the flower on my father’s sepulchre into prostration,
& I asked my mother a day climbing it, if the plants too worship God?
My body is a fragile wool;
& for grief to be the adornments the world will offer me is sheer cruelty
When grief is a wildfire that could burn my tongue
It’s the phobia of losing someone that I first mastered at my cradle like Muhammad
the day I begin to decipher the land is skilled
at swallowing living things and exhuming dead things
Imagine, a small bird flies arrogantly in the rendezvous rain
& opines that singing melodiously in the rain has made her conqueror of grief,
Happiness has been a stepping stone to people’s pride
The electric wire electrocuted the bird & the sky became silent
I whisper how much I loathe grief in my seclusion during Ramadan
& my body fret like a sundry mat set ablazed.
Do not pronounce me a boy, when I have behold what old men had espy
Belief me, I have espy death in our house and I vanish like a shadow cuddling a body
After sighting the flash of light penetrating from the sun
I am too naive to see a ghost in my dream that I resurrected back to life
Tell me, am I not too juvenile to sacrifice a father at the age of Eleven?
when I abruptly knew nothing about the intricacies of life
& My heart is a grieving sea, screaming of pain,
God knows I am younger than my grief and I know it too
& this is where grief begins to unfold.
Photo by Hanniel Yakubu on Unsplash
COMMENTS ( 13 ) -
Akwu August 13, 2021 04:05
Poetry of Lamentation. Beautiful piece.
Michael Imossan August 11, 2021 07:22
"God knows I am younger than my grief"
Mashuud Shakiroh Adepeju August 01, 2021 06:45
"do not pronounce me a boy, when I have behold what old men espy"... Is there another definition for grief?? This is awe-inspiring!
Slimyetty July 29, 2021 05:52
Lukman Warith Akinkunmi July 28, 2021 14:40
I can see the grief you buried in this piece. It is the use of Allusion for me... That was fanta-bulous !
Abdulkareem Abdulkareem July 28, 2021 11:19
This is beautiful!! The imageries, metaphors all perfect!!!
Akinola Amina July 28, 2021 08:40
You've got a very beautiful piece here dear Ariyo, Keep it up .
Adebalogun Muneeroh July 28, 2021 07:16
Awwn.. this is so emotional and beautiful, keep it up bro
Slimyetty July 28, 2021 07:15
Good job Congratulations
Idris Olorundare Moshood July 28, 2021 06:25
Beautiful one, Ariyo.
Eniola Abdulroqeeb Arówólò July 28, 2021 05:25
This is well crafted and versed. I like the message, structure, cadence and the piece in its entirety. Good job! Ariyo.
Damilola July 28, 2021 03:49
Good job. Well done, bro. "God knows I am younger than my grief" Beautiful.
Omodero David Oghenekaro July 28, 2021 03:01
Excellent work, Ariyo! Congratulations