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Ambivalence
In Sha Allah, we shall get exactly what we asked for
In Sha Allah – Imam Sarafadeen
In this land, where all we get is terror
We asked for water and got flood
We asked for living and got blood
The last time I smiled was when my neighbour murdered her husband because he didn't give her money//Today, I smile again because I heard my community is now the most corrupted area in the world. A dog that lost its home came back to bite its owner - they say it is because the owner did not make any attempts to find it. How about a mother who left her son and ran away but came to find the son after she heard that the son is now wealthy and rich? I stand at the balcony everyday to see how people are wandering around aimlessly but none of them look up to see how joyful I am to find myself in this community.
The Portrait Of My Grandfather
Today, I use the little happiness left in me to write this poem,
Serving as the portrait of my grandfather,
Who couldn't grasp any when he was alive,
Perhaps because of the smile lost on his face.
As the son beloved by my grandfather, I inherited his pains.
I thought he could use the grave as his hiding, but even the grave couldn't accept him along with the grief.
He tried to exhale {depression} as the wind blows,
But just as a plant grows,
Yet he still tried not to be a grot,
Like a bird without its wings trying to fly using its brain,
I used to see him fighting with his anxiety every day.
That's when I understood his words, 'We fight to live_ the air we breathe in and out is the result of our fighting. The moment we lose the fight, we lose our breaths as well.'
All this time, I thought he was in pain, but now I realize it is an abyss,
Abyss = {Trials, Tribulations, Suffering, and Disquiet}.
These days, I'm afraid of losing the smile on my face too,
Because yesterday I mistakenly cried while trying to smile.
As he used to pray, I pray as well:
'Oh Lord! Let today wash away our pains,
And let tomorrow bring us peace, love, and bliss
So we will not have Tomorrow as Today!
In The Night (II)
When a soul dies it becomes a star so I waited till the moon becomes a lantern that beam light to the earth to meet my grandfather who had answered the unpleasant call I waited - till the shining sun walked through the end of the world where no eyes could see it till every human on earth makes no sound till the river flow became sound and clear I waited - till my mom said her last prayer before going to bed I waited - till the lullaby patted her in the back and she fell asleep I waited - till the sky is full of stars I waited till his star became brighten in the sky__ then told him "I've missed you" and asked him to not forget to meet me in my dream so I could tell him about my day.
A Letter To My Dead Boyfriend
When the light outside my window started dimming, I remembered your smiling face, and for a moment, I felt alive again. But I still haven't been able to control my tears; they keep coming and coming, Maybe because that is the only memory of you left in me. I feel your presence whenever I cry—you pat me on the back and tell me, "It's alright." It feels like you never left. Yesterday, I met a guy who said he loves me. I said I know and hugged him—I thought it was you. It's funny, isn't it? I write this poem to tell you that I am still here waiting for you. Though I'm also trying to let go of you, but how can I do that when I always feel complete with you being here, even if it is just a dream? The last time you came to see me in my dream, you asked me to forget you and move on with my life. But what you don't know is that I was even happy to see you getting angry with me in the dream. And I try so hard to sleep for a long time every day just to see your face, but you're not visiting me anymore. My friend said I should see a doctor and probably run some tests, but the thought of 'I may not see you anymore' kept me away from the hospital. I think I made the best decision, didn't I? Ohh! I forgot! Tomorrow is my birthday, and I want to see you—it has been a while since you sang me a birthday song. I would like to hear your voice again. My wish for my birthday this year is to see you, with a smile on your face, and feel your warm embrace when you hug me. Even if it is just once, I really want to see you again.
Imam Sarafadeen is a Nigerian writer with a passion for poetry and other literary genres. His works have appeared or are forthcoming in Words Rhymes & Rhythm, Synchronized Chaos, Academy of Heart and Mind, Poetry Planet, Sublunary Review, Hot Pot Magazine, Disabled Tales, Rinnan Review, and elsewhere. He is a reader for The Selkie. You can find him on Twitter and Instagram at @11bamikale.
