NAME: Abdul Fatah Bashir
ADDRESS: University Campus
ABOUT ME: I am a 5th year veterinary medical student at the University of Maiduguri, UNIMAID.
I love poetry and stories I am Yoruba. I am trilingual and that’s excluding all the languages I can ALMOST speak.
POEM ONE: DEAR SOMEONE
Need I tell you, you have my heart?
That you are my most treasured art?
That I like the regality you carry yourself with like a queen
And the way you cling to the Deen?
As you read through this poetry
Know that no amount of imagery
Could possibly depict your beauty
No! Not even Shakespeare can handle such a responsibility.
You captivate me beyond words
I’d love to feel your supple lips
As we lean in to kiss
And I’d like to hold the feeling of bliss it brings
In the tight clasp of my memory’s fingers
I’d love to make that memory over and over again
I hope you too would want the same.
You mesmerise me beyond words
And I love the rhythm of your curves
As you walk with those graceful steps
Exuding nothing short of innate royal aura.
And I wonder
Some times nay, every time,
I really do wonder;
Of what flavour its taste would be?
The treasures that lie within.
Maybe someday I’ll get to know
Maybe I’m just dreaming, I don’t know.
I love you for myself alone to keep
I love you thoroughly and deep
I’ll only be able to smile
Open and unguarded smiles
When you promise to be and remain mine
Only then will I truly be fine.
You are such an amazing person
That’s the reason
Each time I attempt to pen a thought or two
I find it hard to
Because there’s so much to say
And I want to say them in a way
That will please you.
You are my world’s most favourite person
And I miss you more than just some times
I hope when you read this
It makes you smile
Beyond that I hope it makes you mine.
© Abdulfatah Bashir
POEM TWO: BORNO
Tribute to the home of peace
To times when every laughter was hearty and genuine
And people lived a life devoid of fear
And slept with both eyes closed.
To times when families lived happily and thrived.
The times when to the mayhem and strife
A father hasn’t lost a daughter
Nor a daughter to murder lost a mother.
To times when that widow that walks down the street sad and melancholic
Was a woman with a husband, happy and energetic.
To times when that bitter widower was a proud husband
And that lonely child wasn’t yet orphaned.
To when people lived in their own homes,
And IDP wasn’t yet a word known
And life was more than about just surviving
But also about thriving.
© Abdulfatah Bashir