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Trees
Trees are my favorite lovers.
They are always there for you.
People walk away.
Trees are marvelous spirits.
You can talk to the spirits in the tree.
The countdown begins
The countdown begins
as moments tick down
A stream of joy
when the sun
is not enough.
and when the sun
is febrile, she
offers needed shade.
The Butterfly Thinks Himself A Bird
Moyo Okediji
Title: The Butterfly Thinks Himself A Bird
Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Date 2021
Size: 24″ x 30″
The title is an important line in playwright Ola Rotimi’s masterpiece, THE GODS ARE NOT TO BLAME.
Rotimi took the line from a Yoruba proverb, “Labalábá fira rẹ̀ wẹ́ye, kò le ṣìṣe ẹyẹ.” ̛It means, “The butterfly compares itself to the bird, but is unable to perform like a bird.”
Haven’t seen my homeland…
Haven’t seen my homeland since August 2019.
I miss the colorful attires on the streets.
I want to listen to the people speak their various languages.
To drink palm wine.
Captive No More
Captive No More
1
What you are reading is not poetry. It is not fiction. It is my true family history.
I am an ascendant from slavery. Yes.
It means I am a descendant of enslaved bodies. Yes.
Inside me, they locked iron collars,
leg fetters, and hand lockers. Yes.
Yes. Does it sound weird? Yes.
Slavery was real in Africa. Yes
Africa was the Ground Zero of slavery. Yes.
Between the past and the future,
etween the past and the future,
The present is squeezed to death.
Stop allowing the junk from the past,
or the apprehension about the future,
to steal the pleasure of your now.