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Captive No More (III)
Captive No More (III)
7.
Music is the language of tragedy,
and dance, the vocabulary of trauma.
Silence, the death of feelings,
marks the beginning of madness.
After my great grandmother in vain
yelled the name of her son, Akin,
several times, and got no response,
she stepped outside and scanned
where he was playing,
and yelled his name again,
when she did not see him there
her stomach sank
because down in the pit of her womb
she knew he was gone.
The painting
The painting of this canvas started in 2019 and ended in 2020.
You Are Our Sunshine
You Are Our Sunshine
If your skin is dark, we praise you as Adúmáradán.
If your skin is light, we hail you as Apọ́nbéporẹ́.
If you are thin, we salute you as Ọ̀pẹ́lẹ́ńgẹ́.
winter crown.
winter crown.
gọ̀ọ̀bì èèbó
lost and found gọ̀ọ̀bì òtútù
THE GYRATOR: ÒBÍRÍPO
THE GYRATOR: ÒBÍRÍPO Orunmila has a beautiful daughter to give away in marriage. There are three…
SAY IT NOW
SAY IT NOW
When you speak to yourself at night
be not afraid to speak truth
to thunder using the language of proverbs
to deliver music to homeless soldiers
eating from street dumpsters
with long spoons dining with the devil
wearing rifles loaded with a silver lining