that one night |
she, too, will become a labyrinth |
for ghosts returning home | &
under a burning roof | we’d
pray for rain |
but nothing would fall | I know what
death can do with the little light | in a grand darkness |
what the little light | in a grand darkness |
can cause death to do |
both sentences end at the otherworld |
I’ve seen many homes used as illustrations
in grisly stories |
& these homes have only children in them | My
mother is gradually growing wrinkles on her face |
& she often yells out father’s name |
Her love for the sky is waxing | as if her heart is buried there |
Last night | I heard her cough | but
she wouldn’t take water | who doesn’t take water? |
The dawn is coming too early these days | &
mother’s feet are rejecting the ground | she would emplace
her body on one side of the bed |
holding her rosary abreast | waiting
on something to grip her | & hymning | hymning | hymning |
Hassan Usman
is an award winning (performance) poet, content creator, and an undergraduate of the University of Ilorin studying Counselor Education. He’s 2/4 of Next Generational Poets (NGP). Winner of Poetry Unlimited 3.0, 2nd place winner (Age 15-18) Dawnprojectnetwork Poetry & Pictures, runner up AMBNPL’21, Top10 ManiPoetry Competition, he was shortlisted in the BKPW Writing Contest (May Edition). His works are/forthcoming in Write the World, The Shallow Tales Review, Kalam Aur Kalam, My Woven Poetry, Ponder Savant, Poetry in Motion, and elsewhere. He’s on Instagram and Twitter @billiospeaks.
