Poem by Arikewusola Abdul Awal
Do not ask me who I am
’cause my tongue is tethered to darkness.
Father calls me his heir & mother; “my son.”
“This is my brother.” Aisha introduces me
to her beautiful black friend.
Is the moon also the sun?
Or is it the sun that breaks
Into scintillae we call stars?
I swallowed the air wind many times
& a tempest roils in my head
& calls me names I can’t pronounce
remember.
This body is a portrait of a sinking ship–
Hope is a fallen off keel I hold on to–
I drown in the quest of finding myself.
Only the Atlantic can tell me of my body;
Waves remember me well.
Adieu!
About the Poet
Arikewusola Abdul Awal writes from Oyo state. His poems have appeared on Ila Magazine, Willi Wash, Teen Lit journals, Literary Yard, The Yellow House, Eboquills, Afrihill Press, Spillwords, World Voice Magazine and elsewhere.
When he is not writing, he is found reading or watching movies.
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