Poetry

Of Sorrow: Poems by Wazani Adamu Ijarafu

Image: Pixabay.com

Image: Pixabay.com

OF SORROW

I know a place of sorrow
It’s here
Where there are no youths
To dance and sing for the moon
Hear the silence
It’s beneath the carmine ashes that now recite elegies
In the bellies of their homes

I know a time of sorrow
It’s when you’re born in a time of war
You dream dreams larger than night
Where men slept on broken nightmares
Dawn wakes you up before the war
To the goodbye kisses of your soldier father
You watch your mother cry
The December harmattan wind
Drying the tears from her eyes

I know a feeling of sorrow
Carved on the walls of a lonely heart
You sing and your lover doesn’t smile
You play the drums and your lover toes no dance
You then return home
You write a poem squeezed by your stepmother
Thrown into the lagoon
It melts into the deep waters
Evaporates into the sky
They now come in droplets of black
You’re a nation in crimson colour
Your pain painted upon the flag of a conquered land

I know the people of sorrow
They’re men who swim in salty waters
Women whose tongue knows no love
Children buried in old graves
Whose pain varnish into a timeless universe
——————

MASTERPIECE ART

I was asked
What I would sculpt
If my sculpting was to come alive.
I said you, Nature
You the art through which life breathes
The heart through which art beats

I was asked
Who I would paint
If my painting was to come alive
I said you Nature
You the art through which life breathes
The heart through which art beats

I was asked
What song I would sing
If my singing was to come alive
I said you Nature
You the art through which life breathes
The heart through which art beats

I was asked
Who I would write about
If my writing was to come alive
I said you Nature
You the art through which life breathes
The heart through which art beats

You are not an art made to sit on a mantle or a glass case
Protected from life
You are not an art made to be hung on a wall
Or a window ledge
Protected from life
You are not an art made to be written on the pages of a book
You are a masterpiece of art
An epic poem handcrafted by God
Made to be beautiful, to compel
To express the vision of Him who made you
——————
Poems © Wazani Adamu Ijarafu
Image: Pixabay.com

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3 Comments

  • Very touching words Wazani, The place of sorrow continues to wound our existence, but we can only keep fighting, not with the guns but against the ideas that wake up the places of sorrow. Nice piece bro.

  • You’re right it continues to wound our existence. But we shall rise above the mire. Thanks for reading through.