A nice article on Farrago Poetry night in London
Feed me with a cancerous love as soft as an overripe mango
let my spirit shit gold.
Then snatch away the chain of your tumour
let my heart bleed to heal.
A brother an incredible being mine is the best of them all Ayodeji – the second of three
From him I gather my strength
From him I learnt to be me
I would lay my childish behind on a wooden stool and trade words with him
With him I learnt the sweetness of words
With him I grew my tongue
My brother he laughed when he saw my left feet dancing in a broken sandal with my right feet stamping the hot soil Hair bedding bits of grasses from the tumble in the field lips spilling red droplets of pain Eyes shining with pride I had come like my combat mate to get reinforcement My brother he laughed when he saw my tongue rolling out words he saw what I was blind to see
“Girl go back, beat her and her sister and then come back to tell me how you did it” I was 7 a child sent like an errant knight by her king Today I am a woman sent on many trips beyond my power and I have gone back a thousand times in these combats with life His words caressing my aching muscles I tilt the bottom of mountains and shove my tiny nails in goliaths’ eyes
Today I celebrate the brother whose words brought me to grace this world Today I celebrate
my brother the one with the golden heart laced with business plans and ideas
crafted in stars Today, I say “oh boy” ait I glad you are my brother
I don’t think you would have worked well
as a sister.
Here is the audio
