no, I wasn’t always that kind of Muslim from the start.
I mean the all five-time praying, dhikr-bending, always smiling
& gaze-lowering brother. I wasn’t always the masthead
for sacredness. To not bend the truth, I used to be a guy. And by
guy, I mean, twice or thrice, or maybe a million times, I
have sat by a kiosk, under the cover of day & talked passing women
with my fellow lads. I have visited the bars with flickering
lights & seen the silhouette in style—bodies & fingers running along
what I consider the luckiest steel pipes. Tonight, I am
irked, reminded as my fingers count the rosary non-stop. My mouth
reeling endless duas into semi-opened palms. As if they
too, had not once held onto breasts as soft as dhikr escaping the edges
ofmy lips, as if they too, are innocent of suckles tender as
calmly as rose-beads. As if it were blasphemy, the body.
Lord, I confess, wash me clean of memory. These hands are
enough for counting, take away the recurring images. Forgive me lord,
Forgive the mess I’ve made of my life, Forgive the hands. Forgive
my mouth, the truth & steel pipes. Lord, I confess, wash me clean of
memorabilia.
DOLAPO TAJUDEEN, SWAN VI, is a young student, poet and essayist from Ilorin, Nigeria. He is a graduate of Science laboratory Technology from the Lagos State polytechnic, Nigeria. His works are largely about Memory, The gap of years and family, but cuts across many other themes. If he is not writing, he is in awe of paintings or photography or nature. Or found with a book in hand. He is the runner-up for the 2021 YMCA poets in Lagos. His works are published or forthcoming in A long House, Akéwì Magazine, Inkspired NG, Funminiyi Anthologies and elsewhere. Find him on Twitter @dolapotajudeen3. Social media handles: Twitter; dolapotajudeen3, Instagram: dolapopoetry. Facebook: DolapoTajudeen