THE ACCOUNT OF MY LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP
The night descends again and I am still wrapped
in your cogitation like a bouncing baby boy
Wrapped with a clogged shawl against the cold
that came as company after the rain at the bitch
I languish to feel the electrocution from your skin
As your shadowy thought revamps in my mind
I pine over your exhilaration of the oceans breathe
Alone, my heart feels empty again like you are my soul
I flipped through your collection of pictures
That bank your face
The splashes of your memories spread her
wings in my eyes
I dragged my body to the wardrobe that saves
Your designer clothes left behind
To smell your skin to appease my thirsty nose
I wandered my hands searching for your smile
As the night triumph over the day in a gradual departure
My body suffocate under the bedsheet as I tie with pillow
Under your eyelashes, I found a haven colored with bliss
Like a gold miner hueing for a gold in the earth crust
A sailor, searching for where the world has its last wave
And a lost boy looking for shelter under leafless tree
Like a blind man searching for the rainbow in Gods eyes
The way they say, long distance relationship
has no effect on the stretch of love in heart
the way the equation of your love
elongate in my heart
I will wait for our hands to clash ones again
BROKEN
I am heavy and heaviness finds dwelling in my heart
Each night – I reminisce about a broken boy
Living in a dilapidated house below the eyes of God
God is so merciful, not to have cared for him
But he kept querying the authority of God
Not the boys fault but his fault of ignorance
And his heaviness that his unbearable
There were marks of anguish, demarcated in the
Old voice of a woman whose eyes bears fortitude and loss
She has become a gardener of gnarly grief
Consuming her lungs like a wood pecker to a tree
The ashes of her husband was the gift she has
For the car that harbors him was blown to the air
No chasing of the moon around, the moon was human
Sometimes, the brokenness in the hearts pushes one
To stand at the cliff of a mountain or a broken bridge
And let everything clinging to the heart let loose
Life would encourage and discourage you at the same time
I don’t know how it feels much when two lovers
Had to place a bridge between themselves
But I could describe mine as life in hell
Because memories become the fire in our heart
Consuming ones’ heart like acid
The sound of tree breaking into two discordant
Grips my heart that I sometimes felt empty
Not only that, I do feel something has broken within
Like a broken birds’ wings
I KNOW OF A MOTHER WHEN I SEE ONE
I know a mother when I see one
Whose eyes twinkles of congregation
Of stars
And streams pine to hold her face
Her voice always stays in the arm
Of nature, spreading, solitude around atmosphere
And her skin melt of valor’s fragrance
I know of a mother when I see one
Who reeks of appellation of love
And she is a warrior of many victories
One who lays her soul for sacrifice
To save her son in the whirling war
She is a temple of many triumphant
I know a mother when I see one
Who always whispers early morning prayer
On the child head for Gods protection
A mother is a portrait of prayers
Falling like rain dews in the eyes of GOD
On the skin of a boy as revelation
Full of unseen blessings
I WRITE ABOUT FLOWERS WILTED BEFORE OUR EYES
Been a while I want to write about shadows with claws
Trailing my body like sweat in to my lungs / I can’t breathe
But my strange position should ravel
How my body is dent with war mark
I want to write how I got saved from the wicked hand
Crutching my flower
I once took a flower in my childhood days
I squeezed it into helplessness, screaming in-between my palm
Just to say I have power over it
When I got home, I washed off the fragrance
Before I entrust my hand into the food mother cooked
Like the way Nebuchadnezzar watched his hand off
The blood of Jesus, saying I have nothing to do
With the death of this holy man
That same way, the boko haram watched their hands off
The blood of my friend’s brother
I was there when they laid him helplessly on ground
Others were buried inside the mouth of the land
While their head remained up the ground
I closed my eyes to my empty head
As their head were chopped with Bismillahi
I saw how head scream of agony
Some of our brothers were sprayed with bullet
High rate at which the bomb finds way into the house
The velocity the sounds of the gun deafened our ears
The fall of the house in the eyes of bomb
The silence of the house in the eyes of gun
I wonder if this are not our flowers falling
In the arm of its nectar
For this is our brother wilting before our eyes
ARIYO AHMAD is a Nigerian poet who blends his thought into paper with his ever
flowing pen, whose inspiration is tapped from his beloved mother, and his late father who has
sojourn to the land of immortal, he graciously has his poem published in nymphs magazine, mad
ness muse magazine , Melbourne culture corner, tea light press, to mention but few, when he is
not writing, he finds himself relinquishing on Khalil Gibran poems.