Tukur Ridwan’s Poems
Liesel81, Tarkwa Bay – Jetty Station, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.
Abby’s Lens, Ori Olokun at Ile-Ife in Osun State 02, Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.
Olokun - Yoruba god of the ocean, prosperity and fertility. Represents the unity of the Yoruba kingdom.
Marine Musings
This planet of waters is too vast
For the transient. And sometimes,
We’re shores without seashells—the
Ornaments adorning the bay, or
Without the sea’s hygiene on
A polluted island, or without the zephyr
Gliding without a reason, other than
The joy it derives from its existential wings.
But then, we await tomorrow’s tide
To bring forth these ornaments.
We wait for tomorrow’s rain
To cleanse us and return our bodies
In bits of sand seasoned with salt.
I once worshipped by the sea
To invoke Olókun’s tide—to cleanse me
Of my filthy traces, and shelter me
From prying eyes like seafood.
This mystery deity swept across my skin.
Her white gown of waves captured me
While her abundance overflew my orifices.
By the time the wave subsided,
I knew I had been reborn in
Olókun’s hands. Afterwards,
I once travelled to another City’s shore,
The other end, to see how far
Water could go across the Earth.
If I saw the end, I might not be here.
I might just have become another body,
Another filth of the earth, washed
Off the sea, to another city’s shore
Like seashells. I might be condemned
By the mystery deity, for daring
To push her limits with my curiosity—
About the layers of depth that
The water surface wouldn’t show me.
I’m afraid I’d not be reborn this time,
Not even on Osun’s appeal to Olokun.
Marine Musings II
Each time I intend to taste the sea with my skin
I end up letting Olókun swallow me whole
Because I want to be in her good books.
We wrap in a sheet, waving,
Splashing and melting into each other.
I’m just a tissue, yet seasoned with salt
And whetting the water’s appetite.
Deep in this mystic rendezvous
I release my fear in this eternal pool,
Not minding how far or how deep
This majestic deity takes me.
For the powerful tales I’ve heard of water,
And for my pleasant anecdotes of the ocean,
A part of me yearns for a place
In the sea’s spell on the planet.
I learnt to dive, to swim, to melt
To foreign touches like a sea anemone
Shrinking its body inside its shell.
So, I dive into the water’s open arms
Relishing the cold in the rain, and
The warmth under the sun.
I once dreamt of a dinner
With the white-bearded Poseidon
As his harem of colourful mermaids
Showed me this surreal hospitality.
I remember waking up to my wife
Telling me how much she missed crabs,
Shrimps and other species of seafood,
Then I tried to recall if I had seen her face
In that dream—the coincidence struck me.
But then, we visited a Lagos waterside market.
Water's Subtle Power
I wake up to water with my mouth.
My daily affirmation takes
The shape of my body parts
Like seawater trapped in a plastic bottle
After being evoked with prayers.
Then I smear my face,
Orifices and limbs in ablution.
I touch my tongue with a pledge to God
Before my pot collects
The volume I need for breakfast.
Like my lover's magical touch,
Water stimulates my nerves
With goosebumps and hopes—
The type that comes with the rain
Against the draught and famine,
Reminding my soul of its benevolence
When I choke on the excess carbon
Of darkness before my eyes.
Water dissolves the heat
That icks my skin of longings
With the irritation of midlife crises.
In the middle of my lethargy,
A cold shower whets my appetite for life.
When my earth becomes sterile
Of a miracle, water blooms my seeds,
Douses my fire and collects`
My ashes of cremation under the sun.
True true, water no get enemy.