Burnt
Ada said, it was those nights while Papa travelled to Aba,
And Mama was too busy casting the devil from valleys to mountains.
It was those nights I saw the beautiful beast—with all kindness and sweet talks.
With lustrous affection, he wriggled his way into my heart, unclad my soul
With dirty talks not meant for an innocent—he trod the path into my skirt.
He sowed on my temple a fruitless seed, he burnt the covet of my soul.
He taught me the blues I never knew of,
He stole me from myself. I tried to come back home,
But this map is a wheel within a wheel,
I couldn’t find my way back.
Remnant
If only you could look so closely,
You would see unimaginable things litter her mind.
Her face is a battleground.
Check well,
You will see the fragments of bombed things.
In her mind is a civil war—no bridge to walk her out.
Her mouth—a small riot—littered with broken bottles and burning houses.
She is a remnant of war—she smells like war—only if you can smell.
Fasasi Abdulrosheed Oladipupo studies veterinary medicine at the University of Ibadan in Nigeria. He loves writing and has been practicing poetry for five years. He is never far from his books. Closest to him are No Home in This Land by Rasaq Malik, Teaching my Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire, and Salt by Nayyirah Waheed. These writers are also his mentors.
