When will I see you again father?
For you are long gone
and like a missing tooth the tongue hovers at your hole
your void a reminder of times shared but fleeting.
For you are long gone
and like a missing tooth the tongue hovers at your hole
your void a reminder of times shared but fleeting.
Times shared at the small sized shop shopping sweets and snacks.
Times spent waiting to be snatched off from mother’s grip,
to be fed the tuwo shinkafa with its black soup.
Idleness has befriended the cane
a constant companion it cannot dislodge.
For to fondle it as you do, dare say we try
but the memories they fetch leave marks,
marks etched deep into skin, into soul,
to be rekindled in times fraught with indecision.
Just this morning I caught sight of your sleepers,
it too is waning
gathering dusts, awaiting it's night,
like teeth needing to floss
its gullies are cloaking.
The bathroom sits unoccupied for so long
like a child whose mother has gone on a far journey,
loneliness as loaned it a lodge.
The splatter of water by the odd hour,
at the hour when all are cuddled it misses!
Oh, how it seeks to resound the little I occasionally drop when peeing!
Am six foot six inches tall now.
When will we compare who is taller?
Your warmth and essence as the last time I miss.
To look at you and see myself
to know I’d never grow bald as you didn’t.
The walls have lost their acoustic feel.
Your soul-filled voice as you rise in the morning,
a mere memory they would trade for your presence.
For it tinkers them to their core.
My legs too pit-pat lesser now.
For to call out in your voice a second time is a declaration to war.
Your voice that now directs me down this path,
resounding in my head still
calling to mind your sayings in our loud solitude times
them I wish I had paid more attention to,
them I wish I had wedded to
like boy-child to the Igbo.
I miss you father
at dawn and may be you will a better father be and me a better ward.
For your absence fondles my soul.
For as they say, baba ku,baba ku(father is gone,father remains)
I didn’t see you much enough.
I didn’t hover close enough.
a constant companion it cannot dislodge.
For to fondle it as you do, dare say we try
but the memories they fetch leave marks,
marks etched deep into skin, into soul,
to be rekindled in times fraught with indecision.
Just this morning I caught sight of your sleepers,
it too is waning
gathering dusts, awaiting it's night,
like teeth needing to floss
its gullies are cloaking.
The bathroom sits unoccupied for so long
like a child whose mother has gone on a far journey,
loneliness as loaned it a lodge.
The splatter of water by the odd hour,
at the hour when all are cuddled it misses!
Oh, how it seeks to resound the little I occasionally drop when peeing!
Am six foot six inches tall now.
When will we compare who is taller?
Your warmth and essence as the last time I miss.
To look at you and see myself
to know I’d never grow bald as you didn’t.
The walls have lost their acoustic feel.
Your soul-filled voice as you rise in the morning,
a mere memory they would trade for your presence.
For it tinkers them to their core.
My legs too pit-pat lesser now.
For to call out in your voice a second time is a declaration to war.
Your voice that now directs me down this path,
resounding in my head still
calling to mind your sayings in our loud solitude times
them I wish I had paid more attention to,
them I wish I had wedded to
like boy-child to the Igbo.
I miss you father
at dawn and may be you will a better father be and me a better ward.
For your absence fondles my soul.
For as they say, baba ku,baba ku(father is gone,father remains)
I didn’t see you much enough.
I didn’t hover close enough.
