On the days these memories gather like storm clouds,
your eyes, like the sky, pour torrents of water.
You stretch your hands in a cruciform
as grief nails you down to the floor of your anteroom.
It is true what they say:
Mkpa idogho ubiak, adiduok ima ke mkpa ado akakan ubiak
Death is no pain, to lose love to death is the greatest pain.
When the rain falls and the drops pelt your face
its water would wash through your body
while the erosion exhumes a memory buried in your chest.
To you, the first rain carries with it a dirge.
It reminds you of the day your eyes had waterfalls for tears.
It reminds you that mourning bears the scent of dust
rising
like the soul of your lover to the creator.
Every first rain has a prayer for the dead
tucked in the nave of your tongue,
allowed to plummet into the ears of a living God.
Ifiokobong Etuk (KING of the QUILL) is a 300 level student of Communication Arts in the university of Uyo, a spoken word poet, and a writer. He writes poems about concepts and ideas that are often overlooked and undermined such as; trauma, boyhood and their development into manhood, African heritage etc. Through his writing, he approaches these concepts in different perspectives and view points. His works have appeared on thepeaceexhibit.com, Fiery Scribe Review and elsewhere. His social media handles are Facebook: @Ifiokobong Etuk and Instagram: @Ifiokobong_Etuk
I wanted to keep reading on and on, then realised how short the poem is. Honestly, this is beautiful, Ifiok. Heartfelt.
I love this piece, Ifiokobong is so good at what he does representing Akwa Ibom so well.