Category: Poems

The Voters card wields as much power as the Pen.
If only it was used more frequently as the latter.
The pen is mightier than the sword and can build up or bring destruction.
The Voters card is as mighty as our freedom it can bring messiah's or tyrants.
Like I do in my pen, I'll try to believe in my Voters card ever more often,
Like my pen it also can make errors that are unerasable.
But these errors become less with the frequency of usage.

I'll get my PVC not because e of APC or PDP but to elect someone who will give Nigeria a good GDP.

Sober reflection to the time we knew not art,
Yes the tiny strokes of the artist steadily marking our heart shaped canvas
As I regard the vacuum which hitherto housed a magnificent piece
or better still the acrylic paint spread on canvas,
I realize the beauty I once beheld was nothing but illusion,
As the smokescreen clears,
Springs of overflowing wine bursts forth filling up cups and gourds.
The flow is premium and a bit striking,
This isn’t your regular taste it is the perfect brew of ‘vin rouge’.

Suddenly Ini’s question brings me closer home

‘Wise one, is it true that time heals our hurts?’

‘My dear daughter’, I reply

‘Does time really heal, or we simply learn to live with pain?…’

Sitting beneath the oak tree
Listening to the gossip of the birds
Staring at the dark sky
With the moon smiling sadly

Sitting under mother oak
Listening to grandpa’s tale
Clapping and smiling under
The gaze of the moon

But now mother oak is deserted
Mother oak is now childless
Mother oak is now bored
No grandpa’s story, no children’s laughter

The dark sky is now dangerous
The night is now to be feared
Who is bold to tell tales beneath mother oak?
When the lion lies in wait for his prey
Oh motherland!

Dark clouds forming like my childhood nightmare
A dip in temperature, the wind is fiercer
Trees swaying back and forth without care
A little darkening in the atmosphere 
All together they bring the news I wanna hear

The thunder roars and the lightning strikes
So do windows close and dogs bark
Mum’s calling their children in
As the fierce wind blows fiercer still
Come in the rain is about to begin

The first drops are heavenly
Beating against the roofing sheets
And liberating heat as it touches down

On a rainy day like this 
I sit by my window folded
Watching the drops fall free
Counting seconds for fun

On a rainy day like this 
I calm my thoughts as the rain sings
A beautiful song written by mother nature
The melody works through my brain
As I lose conciousness

The rain poured for hours
But I didn’t see it all
On a rainy day like this 
I wake up to grasses green
And clouds white, crispy smell

I wonder when it’ll come again
But till then
I’ll sit still by my window
And wait for the signs of the rain

To get educated on a crucial topic?
"I would love to,but I would do it later" 
Sadly, his later never came between Netflix and Warner Bros, 
A class to stop putting off tasks,
This was recommended by Keem,
"I will join them 'later'",
I guess he didn't get the joke. 
It's not that I don't like to do things, 
I just have too many of them,
Make a priority list I am told,
Maybe, I would do that later too. 

Torches and lamps, candles and flames,
It wasn’t always so,
I go back in time reliving that moment,
Yeah, the bliss before the arrival of the great bird,
We gather outside to gaze at the full moon,
Share a story or two,
Perhaps even a fried moose,
The chirping of the bird is quite different tonight,

The scene changes as we all turn to gaze at the big bird 🐦,
Who ruins everything with a sudden poo drop.

The end...
(Dedicated to our people resident in wartorn Ukraine, we're praying for you) 

When that dashing moment comes-

The time to tell a story of all you have ever seen

In deeds or thoughts or words, maybe in whispers,

The sound of the voice with the greatest tale to share

Will surmount all others;

For he will proclaim grandly

Of how he encountered an ordinary box,

Perfectly coated in deadly ash laced with the merest of intricacies,

Of how he loathed it with might and despised it with each passing moment,

Of how, compelled by hate, flung it into the deepest of deeps,

Cast down in the hopes that it will never resurface.

It is then he will sadly tell of how he glowered back

And in utter amazement watched how the castaway,

Slowly but steadily transformed the lost land

Into a city of gold!

That city rests high above its contemporaries,

Revered by many.

Another tale bearer asks him who has just finished his tale:

“Did you ever open the box?”

With head bowed, the former replies solemnly:

“No, I never did.”

In utter confusion I explored terrains great and small.

Curiosity befriended me,

Blurring reason and killing my soul.

Though I gave out life I really never had one.

I explored various shores and chores,

Perhaps the pianist keys would strike a chord.

What really are the odds of joy eternal

Or even peace whilst charting the Atlantic?

Alas! The jab of a friendly foe,

Armed with nothing more than a ring

Or strings of nails plunging deep around my neckline,

It all happens so quickly that not even a shout suffice…

…to be continued…

I'm a fighter,
Tired or maybe just wired to keep struggling,
trying various ways of adapting to the changing wiles of life,
I pick up few clothes, slip on my fancy footwear and set out for work,
Or do I just recline on my bedroom chair,

Here's a full grown chap by society's standard, 
Required not just to keep soul and body tight,
But regarded with an aggrandised status of high taste,
Yes by onlookers and mentees who desire some lifts and tips for a little weeks drive.
 
I'm not better than you,
Yes, I still struggle with the 'imposing' syndrome,
I sometimes feel the need to silence the celebration of my heroism
lest you get abashed by the battles left unconquered.

I still fight.

Relief would surely come

Soon I'll close my eyes and take a trip,
Unburdened by emotions, affection or neglect,
But first I take a moment to pause and pray,
Hope almost expires but ignorance is even a greater fear,
Would I awake in a much hopeful place or wish I never slept?
How then do I continue to live when fear remains in sight,
Mocking and teasing me at night,
Not just at night but even in day's light

There really is no visible way out of this, I say,
But how do I tell her I'm so ashamed to speak of myself,
She really must think you're such a big mess,
A big cry baby who masks up in cloaks of strength.
Well I do not claim to be strong,
I'm just a fighter knocked down constantly but not yet out.

I love the persona of explorers,

Fearless and limitless in unending pursuit of thrill, adventure and excitement,

Taking long walks with hands locked together,

Smiling and picking silly fights when exploring new terrain,

Or simply gazing at the darkening shade of the sky,

Slowly but steadily dimming to signal the passage of time,

However, the rules are broken tonight,

In a twist of fate we get to spend the night together,

Camping beside the fireplace not so far from the ship anchored ahead,

But then I jolt back to reality, wishing I never woke up from my sleep.

Only if I could write the scripts…

Fear! Fear!! Fear!!!

The heart in which truth and courage dwells,
It is the same that wins the world.
However long, rough, pain-filled the path may be,
This body of yours shall not grow weary.

Come on, forsake this fear and listen,
Your heart echoes the truth,
Harken; never avoid what causes you pain.
All will be well; all is about time.

General, you command this earth.
March on, and accept no defeat.
Believe, and you can triumph.
At the end of every gloomy tunnel, The sun comes bearing victory.

#KING#

I may not rhyme with words in poetic flows
But I’m constantly engaged in a mystic dialogue or monologue,

Weird?
Well I’m just a wandering soul floating and gloating around,

It’s so hard to ignore the voices I hear, constantly haunting and taunting me,

I shut my ears and eyes but the voice seems well articulate, conveying vivid imageries not far from reality,

I’m constantly reminded of my insecurities, inadequacies and flaws,

I believe in you Ben just keep fighting Ola says,

But how difficult it is facing the immediate reality around,

The fears of losing the only one of value I have due to sh*ts unfigured,

It’s difficult to keep fighting but I still do , at least, for that special one.

Hey how’re you doing?

I’m sure you asked that just for formality,

not that you really care about my well-being or desire to help
(well that’s just my imagination)

I’m fine thanks, I reply with a smile masking the ugly scars carefully concealed under the well shaped beards,
The one you think is a cool change for my revolutionary style or in your words persona.

If you ever need someone to talk to I’m here, whenever you need me,
Na your number I bin dial when those ghosts came haunting me at night,

but you hardly noticed my absence,

the recess from the usual clicking of tumblers and vodkas downed when one is called to bar by the supreme judge of our duel.

Behind bars I fight the constant thoughts of neglect,

The matters of my heart are what matters to her,

The pain I’ve caused seems to hammer 🔨 on for so long,

Long enough to void the space I once called home.

You sat so long,
Like sigidi, god of transfixation,
You sat in silence and solitude,
Falling in love with Buddha’s pose,
Like the external image on a catholic door.

It’s 5am , and you’re still tossing left and right on the bed,
When your mates are up already for the day’s work,
You finally rose up to resume at your favourite spot,
The shade under the ODÁN tree,
You sit there all day playing AYÒ
At the end of the day, you want to eat a 5-star meal,
Magic won’t do it; hunger will teach you a bitter lesson.

At your workplace,
All you engage in is useless unyielding gossip,
Bringing detriment to the organisation,
Whether the boss makes gain or not,
Your salary is your concern,
My brother, the food you buy with that money will harm you because you haven’t done the needful,
Needful as expected of you.

You sat underneath the oguro tree,
Expecting its froth of nature’s wine,
Without making effort to tap it,
Anticipating a non-forthcoming miracle.
Sitting idle will not yield anything,
Get up to duty and do the needful,
Involve your CREATOR,
And the sky will be your starting point .

##KING##