Aderohunmu abdulrokeeb Adedayo
is a poet and a writer who hails from Ogun state, Nigeria. He is someone who believes that poetry heals, when he is not writing, he’s busy teaching his student or reading his books, he’s jovial and loves the presence of little children. His works has featured in some anthologies

30 PORTRAITS OF MY FATHER’S HOUSE

I
A tunnel of fears for valiant bodies

II
A bottle of endurance sipped
through parched throats

III
A prison for my mother
who lifts the responsibilities of two souls on her shoulder

IV
wonders of disappointment for visitors
whose ears are full of stories about an exotic house

V
Father’s mouth, a room of lies

VI
A battlefield, that only its dwellers can conquer

VII
An entrance for boys
who know the crude language of the sun
and the naked echoes of the rain

VIII
A city where known is like an unknown

IX
A page of sad memories

X
At the darkest hour of the night
A pillow becomes an entrance for tears

XI
Before the sun slipped out from its room
we bowed our heads for the supplication of our creator

XII
Every night, a boy sits at the corner of an entrance
gulping the pages of a book to fit into the shape of others

XIII
A field of learning which taught my sister
about realms of solving conundrums

XIV
A bag of scars hung at my brother’s back

XV
We laid blatant in a dark dungeon
after futile struggles to crawl out

XVI
Silence is appreciated with bulks of insolent words

XVII
We muffled our voice
for it not to clang in father’s ears

XVIII
we lift trembling hands
when their hearts bask in the euphoria of dolour

XIX
We sing the song of hope
when father called us bunch of baskets

XX
Cries of my brother
whose mouth lacks the ingredients of youngsters

XXI
Descriptions of my father’s friend’s son
whose encephalon works like a robot’s
which father turned into a sermon
he never failed to preach on his altar

XXI
Mother taught us the art of fighting thousand wars alone

XXII
On cold nights, our body became  tenants on cold floors

XXIII
Every night, our bodies became  preys for mosquitoes

XXIV
mother’s words irk father’s ears

XXV
Its façade is a junction between I and my lover

XXVI
the uncemented floors of our parlour
is the study room

XXVII
A lounge for my sister’s bestie

XXVIII
My tribe said the father is the head of the family
but my mother is the supplier of daily manna
where father was negligent of the family’s growth

XXIX
Asylum for father’s braggadocio

XXX
A sky with hazy cloud