Tukur Ridwan’s Poems

This planet of waters is too vastFor the transient. And sometimes,We’re shores without seashells—theOrnaments adorning the bay, orWithout the sea’s hygiene onA polluted island, or without the zephyrGliding without a reason, other thanThe joy it derives from its existential wings.

But then, we await tomorrow’s tideTo bring forth these ornaments.We wait for tomorrow’s rainTo cleanse us and return our bodiesIn bits of sand seasoned with salt.

I once worshipped by the seaTo invoke Olókun’s tide—to cleanse meOf my filthy traces, and shelter meFrom prying eyes like seafood.This mystery deity swept across my skin.Her white gown of waves captured meWhile her abundance overflew my orifices.

By the time the wave subsided,I knew I had been reborn inOlókun’s hands. Afterwards,I once travelled to another City’s shore,The other end, to see how farWater could go across the Earth.

If I saw the end, I might not be here.I might just have become another body,Another filth of the earth, washedOff the sea, to another city’s shoreLike seashells. I might be condemnedBy the mystery deity, for daringTo push her limits with my curiosity—About the layers of depth thatThe water surface wouldn’t show me.

I’m afraid I’d not be reborn this time,Not even on Osun’s appeal to Olokun.

Each time I intend to taste the sea with my skinI end up letting Olókun swallow me wholeBecause I want to be in her good books.

We wrap in a sheet, waving,Splashing and melting into each other.I’m just a tissue, yet seasoned with salt

And whetting the water’s appetite.Deep in this mystic rendezvousI release my fear in this eternal pool,

Not minding how far or how deepThis majestic deity takes me.For the powerful tales I’ve heard of water,And for my pleasant anecdotes of the ocean,

A part of me yearns for a placeIn the sea’s spell on the planet.I learnt to dive, to swim, to melt

To foreign touches like a sea anemoneShrinking its body inside its shell.So, I dive into the water’s open arms

Relishing the cold in the rain, andThe warmth under the sun.I once dreamt of a dinner

With the white-bearded PoseidonAs his harem of colourful mermaidsShowed me this surreal hospitality.

I remember waking up to my wifeTelling me how much she missed crabs,Shrimps and other species of seafood,

Then I tried to recall if I had seen her faceIn that dream—the coincidence struck me.But then, we visited a Lagos waterside market.

I wake up to water with my mouth.My daily affirmation takesThe shape of my body partsLike seawater trapped in a plastic bottle

After being evoked with prayers.Then I smear my face,Orifices and limbs in ablution.I touch my tongue with a pledge to God

Before my pot collectsThe volume I need for breakfast.Like my lover's magical touch,Water stimulates my nerves

With goosebumps and hopes—The type that comes with the rainAgainst the draught and famine,Reminding my soul of its benevolence

When I choke on the excess carbonOf darkness before my eyes.Water dissolves the heatThat icks my skin of longings

With the irritation of midlife crises.In the middle of my lethargy,A cold shower whets my appetite for life.When my earth becomes sterile

Of a miracle, water blooms my seeds,Douses my fire and collects`My ashes of cremation under the sun.True true, water no get enemy.