SIMPLE COMPLEXITY (a poem) by Imisioluwa Adeniran

Where oceans of twentieth century kissed
The shore for a rest, I was birthed.
When East poured out early beams
Of from twenty first, I was bred.
My life was mixed in centurial Whispers:
Which was and which is.

Whose, which, what suits…
Tongues. Talks. Thoughts. Words.
When Tongues twisted amidst thorns
Of Queen’s leid, I saw tongues in tumult.
Tumult of mother words.
Tumult of father thoughts.
Tumult of White tongues.
My reed was cut from breed of trees.
First, second, targeted language…
Vernacular. Koine. Interference.

My identity was soiled, mudded in names:
Of Bulus Paul, Gbàdàmọ́sí Badmus, Amara Grace.
The rhythms of my songs, cuddled with race
Singing notes amidst hides and skins on strings.

The choice of era. Twist and turns of Reasoning.
The code of conduct. Rules and norms of governing.

I’ve found my simple identity.
The simplicity that lies in complexity.