A Night Letter

(For Ruth Banjo)

 

Like a wolf in the dead night,

My quill howls some pressing words.

They that are my joy to keep

And still a burden I love to bear.

 

A boyish man of the hood,

No landlord to thoughts of emotions deep,

Groomed to wake and sleep,

Whatever happens between matters less.

 

Forgive that I a sexist was;

Fear mothered the hatred in me –

Fear to descend so low,

So high as gentle meekness.

Envy fathered the hatred –

Envy of they that know hate not.

 

I concurred with them –

They that announced the passing away

Of what used to be named Love.

Though we never met –

The late and I –

I concurred still; I concurred.

 

Yet in my silence,

In sleep and in wake,

Dream I of a beep;

A soft beep on my cell phone.

A tiny voice saying “hello”

A smile for once that is true.

 

“Hark!” I told me,

It won’t happen.

Not until the scorching moon

Burns my holy hairs black.

Not until the lonely stars

Pay visit to the midday sun.

 

Aye, I dream,

But if all dreams come true,

I would be dreaming.

 

Alas, it happened.

I drank the blue water I dread.

The thoughts became my patient.

I loved and loved;

Or,

So they called what I did.

 

They come, they’re gone,

Looters of a bit of my heart,

They come and they go.

But someone came,

And since never left…

You.

 

What kept you…

What kept us…

Together?

Perhaps the tears we shed,

Perhaps the smiles we shared,

Or the words we left to speak,

Or the friendship we made our base.

 

There on your eyeballs,

Those that the dew burn,

Is a letter scroll of old;

It reads, “it matters not,

Not anymore on man’s planet,

Books we wrote for yesterday to read.”

 

My cool in the terrible summer,

My wool in the dead winter,

Torch on the moonless nights,

Sparkle during the sun’s weird break.

 

If I return,

After Death I greet,

If to this awry land,

My stubborn self returns,

Please stay not.

Ply the road I trod,

Lest myself I see here –

Lost and alone.

 

That we, together as always,

Shall meet yesterday tomorrow.

“I love you,”

Each shall say again.

Michael Adejonwo

Advertisements

About Ijagun Poetry Journal

Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to A Night Letter

  1. Basit Olatunji says:

    l appreciate the brain behind this “literary assembly” for paving a way for budding writers to propagate their creative intelligence in an international journal like this.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s