Thursday, 15 December 2011

Sparkle


Wish

going with the gust of the wind
the candle flickers its last breath to sleep.

Mourning the howl of thunder is no use
when seedlings are yet to take hold.

Chances: treasure of wise souls digging deep 
Should these be drawn up, seized and saved?

Dreams burst into song, the fertile refrain 
shoots up seasoning delights as

visions like buried diamonds
sparkle in the heart of adventurous

dreamers dancing on the trail of love to
keep the wick straight up. It burns bright

still.  

©Adura Ojo, 15 December 2011


For Romantic Friday Writers. Theme: Sparkle!


Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Perfect Snow


The joy of cleaning windows is that I
see the dirt you leave behind  
Like your treacherous torso,
a winter of discontent stretches before me
You smile and I bleed unseen blood on snow
peaks of perfectly reconstructed teeth

Between fluorescent smiles of unblemished
brightness, red lips poised to sing:
Merry Christmas darling mine
I am a man with bruised insides and misled toes
‘Pity time does not always announce a
change of plan while you get central heating

in your extremities. Your blue Xmas
offering I watch with new eyes
and a hardened heart. Just don’t
get to the black ice beneath the snow, be careful
Caution left this home of unbridled lust
Sold to Ebenezer scrooge, the reason

love is a four letter word. 

©Adura Ojo - November 29, 2011

Romantic Friday Writers asked for responses to the image in the post. 'Romance turned sour' were the images that came to mind;) Pls pardon my posting early, got my hands full Friday/all weekend:) ‘Shared with OpenLinkNight Week 20 at dVerse Poets Pub.

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Old Boots*

Google images
Old boots
Proud, supple
Tough comfort
Snug, worn
Waiting to leave again

Bends, edges
Marked forever
Evergreen tinges
Memory ties
In the right places
Laces knot
On end, anew.

Old lace for new lanes.
Reboot.


Adura Ojo - September 2010


*Posted today for OpenLinkNight at dVerse Poets Pub.
*Published in Sentinel Nigeria, May 2011 edition. First posted here.

Monday, 30 May 2011

Mango Tree

My cousin Kwaku is wise beyond his years. By that, I mean he has grey hairs in his mouth. He talks the talk of a fifty year old with the cute mouth of a thirteen year old. Kwaku is the young brother I never had. He's lived with us since he was seven, after his parents - my aunt and uncle died in a car crash. So here we are under the palm tree at the back of our compound. Kwaku is giving me his priceless cowries as usual.

He flashes his widest grin. "You know what they say, Jackie?"
I scowl at him. "And what exactly is that Kwaku?"
Kwaku laughs. "What is it that aunty says?" 'If you need a man, get a shade.'
"What you need is a palm tree like this. It provides far better protection and it will never walk away and leave you."

I roll my eyes. "Kwaku! Who says I'm thinking about a man?"
Kwaku grins again. "Eh, it's written all over your face. Your face has worn that maxi of sadness since you got back from Uni. That maxi needs cutting back to reveal a summer dress. You know...like the one aunty got for you when she went to Atlanta".

For the first time, I smile. I will myself to get stronger. But it is not the shade of a palm tree in my sights. What I need is a mango tree. Yes, a mango tree. I can see it now.

Adura Ojo - All rights reserved

Monday, 31 January 2011

Owu Rubutu*


In memory of our dance
That we may keep what is precious, 
The music within us.


Oya ijo ya, Owu Rubutu
Dance the dance of spirits old
Ki bata mole, ka jo
Ijo bata
Hips so swell, beads to the beat
Gladly hit feet bouncing in heat
Dance in the light of darkness
Like the deaf lady and her best kept script
The rhythm of beads heard, unseen
Ileke dudu, ileke pupa
Feet and hips the way the beads sway
Jo fun mi, Owu Rubutu.



Adura Ojo - January 2011 - All rights reserved

*Image from fineartamerica.com (Artist: Chidi Okoye)


*Yoruba - Language spoken in South Western Nigeria. 
Yoruba phrase 'Owu Rubutu' captures the beauty of a full figured lady. 

* Sorry, no translations on this one. You'd have to use your imagination, I'm afraid;)
(Translation later provided: See comments section)


*Poem written while listening to Fela's 'Water No Get Enemy' and also Amerie's '1 Thing'