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This poem is an attempt to accepting an understanding grief, grief that is yet to transpire. An attempt to accepting an understanding.
This poem possesses the dissatisfaction I feel skirting around the German word "Erklärungsnot": a tempest of the mind.
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What is there in our lives other than the remembrance of lost youth and lamentation for what is? This poem is about these moments.
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I recorded these poems from Anthropogenic Activities in an empty mosque on our school campus, in an attempt at finding a quiet place to record, otherwise I would not have made these recordings. So, I ask that you bear with me the background noise from the street nearby and the boy sweeping the grounds and consider them as white noise: nothing more, nothing less.
I like to think, in the end, certain things become enveloped into themselves again; they return to their subdued form–we.
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Recently, I cannot help but juxtapose grief with selfishness; there is a codependence I cannot explain: a necessity to living and co-dependence.
I asked myself as I redrafted this poem: "Are we in the shadow of something greater than us, that we cannot rebut? Our lives is in a trajectory we cannot direct."
I hope i'm not the only person who finds it difficult to think at the right conditions, in solitude: in our alone time, and not at the bad moments like in the middle of a test or a serious conversation before you get the eureka moment where you finally understand Descartes' "Cogito, ergo sum, (Latin: “I think, therefore I am)". To me, thinking happens at the most unlikely scenarios, here's a poem for that.
The Hausa Language:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hausa_language
Overthinking is far worse than procrastinating in my opinion, procrastinating makes you feel like you're the only insecure one; the vulnerable one... but we all are. I was, not anymore. Nobody's perfect... This is my first episode finally out after two years of PROCRASTINATING because of my voice, and "I don't have the right gear, here I am with the help from a friend and a little nugde from another. pilot 🎉🎉🐱🐉🌍🌕🌕🌕
From the publisher's feed