Posted: January 23, 2014 in Poetry

by Saddiq

Mister obscurity—
souls have grown numb from decade’s long shackles of bondage—
your language is spun with dated dust–
you are a clown–
you cheat the dead of their rest; cemeteries in wombs—-
I love your afro fur; it climbs the blues like White Mountains
The son of the Nun–
the river that kept our kinds alive—-
You bloom when the fertile land seems a desert—
when the mango came swinging out of dry lands–
it was indeed a mystery—
but with you, were the Boabab and Iroko trees too–
you are like the bearded jungle where the shade of green
becomes larger a field—-turns later–
your leaves become grey– your roots wrinkled—
and the generation of date-palm is here–
the original habitants of the desert lands

Saddiq is an emerging voice in the literary circle. His Second poetry volume; Canvas was 1st Runners up 2012 ANA Poetry Prize. Presently working on his 3rd collection due for realize this year.

Lyriversity — Liberty of Creativity

  1. timnwaobilo says:

    Left me confused…I must confess. I wish it were not so

  2. Anene Francis says:

    Mr Tim, it seems that’s the aim o. See assignment abeg. This one pass de-conversations, its so convoluted thus needs de-convolution lol. Mr obscurity confirmed…
    Anyway let me try… describing something’ (a kind of tree maybe) survived through time, its kind rear, bloosoming even when others fail. But now its existence is threatened… no laugh o

  3. Ezeamalukwuo says:

    This De-Conversation is indeed a puzzle. I am confused ooo. I may be wrong but I see ancient African Civilization, like Egypt that flourished when others were still living in caves. But today its leaves have turned grey, yellow in the sun. I may be wrong. I like the mystery but I need a clue Mr Saddiq

  4. stepehn says:

    Its a poem for date-palm trees. They survive in desert’ reach the blue sky high as does iroko trees…
    Beautiful piece.

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