to ashes, & dust. father’s body drops six feet &
i feel elated over his demise—
finally, the top positio is mine.
mourners pierce the air with their cries. our aunt admires
my seven year old brother’s bravery to shut his well of tears;
how strong. how strong he is for being a passageway
for his father’s snake, an Issac before the knife of desire with no ram caught
in a thicket. how strong i am for being a messiah abased to his dad’s ignominious
wants. my father, my father, why won’t you just leave me alone?
mother blows her nose amidst sobs, a cloud of despair encircles her head. i
hope she won’t miss his blue eyes, his husky voice, his hairy
hands that have broken the red darkness my body contains.
called to duty of a spade. i shove and pour
dry earth on father’s face. maybe too much, maybe not enough,
the same say he defiled his seeds’ faces with his seeds.
a solemn hymn rises into the air. a blue-eyes vulture perching on a tree
flaps off with the lyrics caught at its beak—a look of knives and thread at its flight
sewing the torn part of me.
ALFRED OLAIYA is a young poet and spoken word artist. He’s in love with colours, emotional spirituality and the realms beyond. He was the second runner up at 2022 Spring Poetry Contest, he was shortlisted in the 2025 Bridgette James Poetry Contest, he was a finalist at the 2025 Custodian of African Literature (COAL) Poetry Contest. His works have appeared in Best New African Poets (BNAP) 2021 Anthology, Poetry Achive, Decades of Nine and Thrills anthology, Soil Unfurling from Stem Anthology and The AprilCentaur.
