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JAN 10~ ADEJOKE (JOJO) ADEKUNLE ALAGBA

1/10/2025

 
Today I welcome, Adejoke (JoJo) Adekunle Alagba, to the SHINE poetry spotlight! JoJo is a Nigerian poet who is an active part of her local and online poetry communities. Today she is sharing "Never Mine" and "My Biggest Fear." In the latter poem, note JoJo's polished use of rhyme and meter. (Next week, SHINE will be featuring more rhymed poetry...keep an eye out!) Thank you, JoJo, for entrusting your words to SHINE!

Never Mine

The world was never mine to hold,
A fragile thing, a house of cards,
Spun in the breath of a hurricane.
The universe lent me its pieces,
Let me touch its light for a moment,
Only to remind me—they were never mine.

He appeared--
Not as a gift, but a fleeting glimpse,
A fragment of joy on loan.
The universe whispered,
“Here, take this, feel this.”
And I clung to him like a drowning soul,
Grasping for something I could not keep.

He was like water in my desert,
Cool relief against my burning chest,
A lighthouse I thought would guide me home.
But even lighthouses belong to the sea,
Anchored by tides I cannot command.
He was not mine—how could he be?
When even my breath is borrowed from the stars?

I gave him all of me,
My scars, my secrets,
The armour I thought I could shed for good.
But the universe smiled,
Cruel and knowing,
As it gently took him back,
Leaving only the echo of his presence.

What was I to expect?
The universe owns everything,
Every joy, every sorrow,
Every fleeting touch of eternity.
We are only tenants of its grace,
Borrowing moments we mistake for ours.

Now I stand in the wreckage,
Pretending I had ever been whole.
Pretending I could claim him,
That the universe would let me keep
A piece of forever in my hands.
But it only lends—it never gives.

How do I breathe
When the air is not my own?
How do I walk
When the ground beneath me shifts?
The happiness I held was never mine,
Only a borrowed light,
A spark returned to the vast, indifferent sky.

And so I beg the stars,
Though they do not hear,
To grant me just one more moment.
But I know now
What the universe gives, it takes,
And I am left with nothing but the ache
Of happiness that was never truly mine.

My Biggest Fear

My biggest fear is waking up alone,
With dreams that were bright now turned grey.
A world where every chance I've ever known
Slips through my hands, like sand that blows away.

I fear the silence of an empty heart,
A hollow beat that echoes in my chest.
The gnawing doubt that tears my soul apart,
Reminding me of how I've failed the test.

Inadequacy, a shadow by my side,
It whispers softly, "You're not good enough."
Its voice, a venom, poisoning my pride,
And turning hope to something harsh and rough.

I fear the eyes that see through my disguise,
The ones that know the weakness I conceal.
Their judgement burns like fire in my eyes,
A searing truth that I can’t help but feel.

What if I try, and still I fall below?
What if my best is never close to right?
These questions plague me, never letting go,
And rob my days of peace, my nights of light.

I fear the path that leads to dreams undone,
Where every effort ends in bitter pain.
A race I run, but cannot ever be won,
With every step, more loss, more fear, more strain.

Yet through these tears, a flicker of resolve,
A fragile hope that just maybe I can rise.
For even in the places where fears revolve,
There lies the strength to reach beyond the lies.

So though my fears may tear my heart in two,
I'll face them with a courage born of fire.
For in this struggle, something bright and true,
A spark of hope, a glimpse of my desire.

Even in these fears, my strength evolves,
Yet still I wonder—will it be in vain?

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Adejoke Adekunle Alagba is a writer whose work mainly explores themes of identity and human connection. With an introspective and evocative style, she crafts poetry and narratives that bridge emotion and thought. When she is not writing, she enjoys collecting books, exploring the world of wine tasting, and being immersed in stories that spark curiosity and inspiration.


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    SHINE - International Poetry Series

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    From the international poetry community, we have a "luxury of stars," as Sylvia Plath might say, and it is my honor to provide a home for their words through SHINE Poetry Series.
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    NOW IN PRINT!

    Stars Over the Dordogne
    BY SYLVIA PLATH
    Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy
    Picket of trees whose silhouette is darker
    Than the dark of the sky because it is quite starless.
    The woods are a well. The stars drop silently.
    They seem large, yet they drop, and no gap is visible.
    Nor do they send up fires where they fall
    Or any signal of distress or anxiousness.
    They are eaten immediately by the pines.

    Where I am at home, only the sparsest stars
    Arrive at twilight, and then after some effort.
    And they are wan, dulled by much travelling.
    The smaller and more timid never arrive at all
    But stay, sitting far out, in their own dust.
    They are orphans. I cannot see them. They are lost.
    But tonight they have discovered this river with no trouble,
    They are scrubbed and self-assured as the great planets.

    The Big Dipper is my only familiar.
    I miss Orion and Cassiopeia's Chair. Maybe they are
    Hanging shyly under the studded horizon
    Like a child's too-simple mathematical problem.
    Infinite number seems to be the issue up there.
    Or else they are present, and their disguise so bright
    I am overlooking them by looking too hard.
    Perhaps it is the season that is not right.

    And what if the sky here is no different,
    And it is my eyes that have been sharpening themselves?
    Such a luxury of stars would embarrass me.
    The few I am used to are plain and durable;
    I think they would not wish for this dressy backcloth
    Or much company, or the mildness of the south.
    They are too puritan and solitary for that--
    When one of them falls it leaves a space,

    A sense of absence in its old shining place.
    And where I lie now, back to my own dark star,
    I see those constellations in my head,
    Unwarmed by the sweet air of this peach orchard.
    There is too much ease here; these stars treat me too well.
    On this hill, with its view of lit castles, each swung bell
    Is accounting for its cow. I shut my eyes
    And drink the small night chill like news of home.

    ~~~

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  • ABOUT
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