Poetry

Fred Noy/UN photo

By

Opeoluwa Olatunbosun

There was once a time

There was once a time

When a child’s little fingers

could poke the elders to speak the bitter truth.

There was once a time in life’s tale

When the dry leaves were deaf

To the voice of the wind.

Those times were like the dreams

of a drummer boy teaching his tongue

How to speak in the language of fire.

I sat by our window

Where mama always told stories of villains

Who suck blood of sheep in lion’s skin

For the rapid growth of the ant.

I remember then,

How her eyes blazed

And how her limbs broke our bones.

I remember those moments

when fear eats deep into the sore of our non-chalancy.

Mama always smiled- in silence

And now, I hate those times!!

If I told u, would you believe?

There were times, the wind blew my chest off

And made me bare to the stones and metals.

There were times i rubbed my shoulders upon spears grasses and

Wished a miracle would come down fast.

Those times were like a flood washing off my skin.

Those times were shredded papers floating on airless air.

Those times, you were faraway,

A phone call wasn’t your tradition.

And i, with pride, denied responsibilities.

I told myself

I’m alone and always alone.

i have passed through life’s stormy way and highways

I have ran on life fields hoping to catch the wind and cage the sun

I have written life’s test, answered life’s questions,

Hoped for a better ministry, than this strain i found myself in.

But as i journeyed and raced with my equals,

I realise

Life is empty,

It’s void of breath,

It’s dark and white.

It blinks in unsure decisions.

Life throws us balls

Life sometimes shatters us.

Life makes us an episodical stage of our mistakes.

Its pricks us with the truth and forces us to lie against our existence

Life is a shadow..

Now,

If i told you, i was once a bitter child,

Naked and brutal,

Stupid and flexible,

Useless and without shadow.

Unrepentant and unforgiving,

Would you believe?

Or if i told you, there were times i wanted to kill life itself,

Would you label me a Criminal?

Another tale to this slavery

I sang songs from my empty bowels

“come feed my soul with thy truth”

I spread my hands to the sky

Where the white man looked with his squirming eye.

“Does your found-ther

Hear the fainting call that eludes my heart in shrinking voice?” I cried

“His ears are on the ground,

He peeps through the cotton wool

And weighs the aggravation of your heart

With his cleansing pole” he said under his breath.

I felt their limbs fall by my side,

When the thunder we all seek

Rampaged the Earth and stole my treasured earnings.

“He has answered” they said.

He has accepted the rituals i didn’t burn night escapades to sacrifice to him,

He will resume his Duty as “our” Father

And I will continue to suffer as a slavery child of which I am.

Opeoluwa Olatunbosun

Opeoluwa Olatunbosun is a student of The Polytechnic of Ibadan who studies Mass communication. Her poems have been featured in The Night anthology, Gods of August anthology and In my Father’s house anthology.