this is the place you’ll find me
like the prey of a shrike
choked through by your thorny words
When the chase after Omo Ogun with your heart
Failed to be anything worthy to steal the cheapest glance from his
hammer and anvil
When the waist beads fails to be the skeleton key
to get all you desire
You will find me.
This is where you’ll find me
when the stars you so dreamed of- drifting off my bosom that has never
held anything as precious as dying mother breathing her last
are now but fireflies
stuck in the cobwebs of the black widow.
It is not I Morountodun if the songs that tried to serenade you is
served cold, sour.
The live coals within
my chest will drip down my cheeks.
Looking into my eyes
do you see a flower dancing in the furnace unscathed?
It is you my black woman
for pain will not devour
the faintest wisp of love
in the wildest of fires.
Tell me tales of your miseries
of the lots
cast on your iro and buba to be this tattered
I’ll fetch all the cowries
from the goatskin bag in my head
right on this spot
for the crown duly reserved.
No one must ask you why
Why all these fruitless years to make you wail.
Is the soul of man not meant for flight to console this wingless house of flesh?
Is the spirit not cursed to be thirsty for a drink from the fountains
of the deep?
Here you are Morountodun
ripest with penitence.
I am night
you have come with your fool moon
for the scene that’s makes our kindred spirits wish for the body of youth.
When you come to the fall off
you will be welcomed crashing
into my waiting arms obsessed
with pieces of a broken woman
gathered perfectly into the mould
This is where you will find me
Upon the earth you buried me with the words;
“Morountodun is a jewel destined for the lions.”
There is no dead man with fire
in his belly
My one cry still holds
the great heat
that’ll melt the hardest iron of Ogun
where the heart is shielded.
– Martins Deep
Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends.