Ariyo Ahmad
The Last Wish of the Soul Is Death
For my Late Grandmother
Nights are scattered shadow; like a black blanket
I see the eyes of my grandmother etched with a drowning desire
Uncle death is in-charge of reading the body's end
With his eyes waiting patiently for the soul to exile the body
my grandmother knows she is stumbling on the wall of her end,
The sweet taste of her soup is a memory hanging on my lips
How she articulate into a boy's body, and emit his grief.
Mention the herbs, my grandmother knows what they heal
My grandmother keeps telling my mom not to cry,
For she is to wait for her at heaven's gate
& to wear another body like a snake; like a chameleon
A time my mother stopped my grandmother from going to the market,
Who knows she is purchasing her final sacrificial right ?
My mother's last born doesn't know the fever that befalls the house,
He went about hovering like a butterfly across a garden
But grandmother's soul is asking for her last rite,
The last time I heard my grandmother talked
A bird flew out from her mouth and nothing in her could breathe again.
Nights are scattered shadow; like a black blanket
I see the eyes of my grandmother etched with a drowning desire
Uncle death is in-charge of reading the body's end
With his eyes waiting patiently for the soul to exile the body
my grandmother knows she is stumbling on the wall of her end,
The sweet taste of her soup is a memory hanging on my lips
How she articulate into a boy's body, and emit his grief.
Mention the herbs, my grandmother knows what they heal
My grandmother keeps telling my mom not to cry,
For she is to wait for her at heaven's gate
& to wear another body like a snake; like a chameleon
A time my mother stopped my grandmother from going to the market,
Who knows she is purchasing her final sacrificial right ?
My mother's last born doesn't know the fever that befalls the house,
He went about hovering like a butterfly across a garden
But grandmother's soul is asking for her last rite,
The last time I heard my grandmother talked
A bird flew out from her mouth and nothing in her could breathe again.
Biography
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Ariyo Ahmad (He/ him) is a Nigerian poet from Ogun state. He has poems published in Brittle Paper, Native Skin Lit Magazine, Icefloe Press, Art Lounge, Kalahari Review, Rigorous, African Writers, and numerous others. He was an honorable mention in the Fitrah Review contest (2021), was shortlisted for Brigitte Poirson Poetry prize (June/July, 2021) and is also the Poetry Editor for fieryscribereview. Find him on Twitter @ahmad_akanni
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