Shitta Faruq Ademola’s poem, Sacrilege narrates the girlchild’s plight with sharp imagery. He wears the rather tight shoes, which fate gifts women, and takes a few steps, and recounts the feeling which came with every stride in lines and in verses. Sacrilege a pleasant poem
Poetry Editor
yesterday, we listened to the burns that choke
in the temple of a girl’s body – we have forgotten
it hurts, how her voice resonates loud
like a star’s fall, pleading for mercy.
Her lap is a home for sores; wounds wide
Like Moses splitting the Red sea.
in the cracked wall of an uncompleted building,
Her scream is a fire; the blood that runs underneath
her tampered fragile glass is thickness; a stone
that sings a thousand sore-bones.
She died. When she woke up, her soul is a flame
of fire regurgitating in the mouth of
a wicked furnace. Her tears had the hotness
of an angry sun. Like the coffee that burns the walls
of a little boy’s tongue.
we have forgotten she’s mixed
with beautiful feelings. we have failed
to know that one place
is where her mother cries; her father
seeing her in dreams of war. We have always
forgotten she’s human, not a stone.
Shitta Faruq Ademola is an 18-year old Nigerian poet and writer, as well as a prospective Lawyer. He has works and forthcoming in; The Trouvaille Journal, Down In The Dirt, Eskimo Pie, A Country Of Broken Boys: Boys Are Not Stones Anthology, Songs Of Peace: Anthology For Peace and others. When he is not writing, he is meditating, playing Scrabbles or listening to Simi’s sweet voice
Photo by Elina Krima from Pexels
