August Child

Okang

AUGUST CHILD

I was born to an African welcome,
A song and a spontaneous dance,
Undiluted genuineness,
The proud smile of a strong woman,
They put her cub in her waiting arms,
But first they made him roar.

And for blood
There was stardust in my veins,
Mixed with hopes and angel fire,
Liquid faith.

I was born with a crown
Tattooed on my naked mind,
August little god,
Majesty heralded
By my own raindrop army
Marching hard,
Cheering from the rooftops,
And the skies fought Earth
For their little god;
August’s child,
Until a rainbow made their peace.

I was born on a baby throne,
Made of bloodied sweat,
And dreams, and wars
Fought, to win the crown of thought
On my head, kabiyesi,
And does my humanity not reveal
My pedigree, my divinity?

160813@lag.ng/ashiwel

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Hello there,

Thank you for stopping by to read. For four years now, I have written a poem every year on my birthday. I try to take a piece of me; a bit of how I feel and immortalize that. I try to shrink the three hundred and sixty five days past into a few lines. I hope I have succeeded.

This year, I wanted to say a special ‘thank you’ to all my friends; the people that make staying alive easy. And to Seth, Toyin, Dami Teru, Uche, Wale, Mocha Dami, Hannah, Favor, little Tammie and everyone else who made August 16th 2013 an amazing day, I thank you. Your friendship (and love in some cases) completes me.

Ashiwel

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