My Poetry Diary

The memoir of twenty sixteen, Plenty pages, but empty in-between, The sky was crimson red in summer Naira to Dollar came like a stunner, The menace of power came like the desert sun, Even the extremists came with their purging  guns, They scorched my kinsmen to an ovum beat, We lost some good people to their flaming pit, The Cemetery was heavier in autumn; Its wind took my town-ship to the bottom, I heard their wailings even at the dusk, They lie on the street and smell like musk, Our solace came from the freed Chibok girls, After nearly 3 years in the devil snares, Those with the Sceptre took covenant with the devil, They used our girls and resources to settle… The Falcons soared through the hideous clouds, Amidst the lightening shredding their shrouds, Back at their nests, those golden eggs were gone; They were taken and re-laid as spawns, The roads has swallowed more on its lanes, It spilled countless bloods from our tinny veins, Plenty pot-holes to po

Let the peace from above descend now, Come to us like the freshness of an ocean breeze, The crisis though is strong, so I don’t know how.. Still we pray for all inner turbulence to cease; O’ peace, we have been waiting for long; Set yourself free from the shackles of men, Come speedily now to correct all wrongs, I heard the whirl sound; From a tiny voice afar; Little ones on a Zion bound; Trembling till their mind torn apart. We all agreed that peace is possible; Why the sudden massacre? My clansmen this is horrible; Another battle is brewing; Like a decade palm wine ferment; This crisis is all our doing; Aren't you tired as the children lament? Each time I hear the infants cry, Or the weeping from the mothers, Those thoughts make one dry, Let the peace from above descend now, And fill our mind like the holy Ghost, We will open our heart to you; I vow.. Peace come to us like an heavenly host, All the good people of my cla

Did you get my Letter?, A parchment of three scrolls, Wrapped with the stalk of rose petals, Which I wrote on the wake of every crow, Did you get my letter? I sent it through a trusted friend, An ally that’s the better, Better than the unseen faces to send, Did you get my letter? Through the wind from my imaginary windowsill, Even though I may be fetter’d, Am just wondering if you still remember me still, Did you get me letter? Within its line I poured out my consciousness, So choked to the throat of this weather, Still I remain one with my righteousness, Only few years away in this hole, My clansmen bundled me away with strangers, I blindly warm up to the shackles of my foes, I saw the blue sky but not the dangers, It caught me ghastly behind its trapdoor, A quicksand to my humble leg to fight, I saw them, My clansmen – my captor, They sent me here for an eternity night, So they can unguardedly mutilate our salt, The precious sa

It is in your eyes, The fire, the attraction; Softy in them thy beauty lies, A place to savour satisfaction; We may twine at the moment, Like the lily and moth seduction, Faraway you seems, my torment; Your body I have none, still an imagination, Take me through your earthly stars, Guide me through to elevation Let me swim through to your softy mars, Thou a beauty of motivation, Your eyes, Your eyes The fire, a chain reaction, It can melt the bravest ice, I call you a motivation, So luscious thy velvet-black eyebrows, Crystal clear like the Seraph eyes So magnificent thy crystal eyeballs, Deep motivation flows from your eyes, In your eyes, every thing is bright, It illuminates like a night constellation So angelic, it radiates the light, In your eyes, there is motivation, Your lips, your lips Its softness, my intoxication Your lips, your lips I call you motivation Let me explore your depth, To savor the comfort of your chest,

I know the colour of love, Undeniably the same as your eyes, So transcendental and only from above, Like the trails of Elysian butterflies, It's neither red, white nor blue, It's like the infernal Vatican height,  It's like the softness of the morning dew; It's like the reflection of the starlight, Soak me up till am hued, Paint me with thy colour of truth, Let it bring out my beauty anew, And I will sing a melodious tune.. A tune like that of the birds, The ones that hums blissfully at thy gate, Let thy colour illuminate my words,  A life to my erstwhile boring state I know the colour of love,  It's like watching twilight from a mountain top, Like in a breezy country side fall, Those feelings like flying with the rain drop, Let me soak myself in your paints, Print all over me your colourful celestial scripts, Like that used for Mona Lisa and the saints, Brush me with the softness of your lips, With a taste of your love and beauty,

Seven years ago, Old buddies made a pact; Just seventeen months ago Gladstone took the ethereal path. The Saxophonic of your voice; Like a soft rain that appeases rancour, The silence now from thy seamless toils; They awaken me to thy candour, Another of my clansman is gone, Another mighty star has fallen; The finest of the stars of a sun; Gladstone has heeded to another calling. It's well beyond three days, July 6th 2015 has left a trace; Lazarus received his after three days; Unquestionable God, we bowed to thy face. For Gladstone, we again asked Why? We all one day will surely die; Never seen a man so kind at heart; Until Gladstone crossed my path. The last time we saw; It was the last time we played; The last time we saw; It was the last time we prayed. Gladstone my mate ! What a fate !! Is this another test of faith? Now Salvation is late. "Pressy GQ, a dearest husband" Like Abraham, you are a father to many; This generation w

From my little room window I saw, A silhouette of a being in grey like hay, He was hollow, lost and worn, His face brazed like a jointed clay; He muted and he sauntered;  He squeezed the pint for another drop; He kicked the dust and muttered;  That when will he get nourished at the top? To meet the redeemer, saviour and friend, A better place from earthy hitches;  Where torn souls can rise and mend, And forget the thirty shades of his ditches. Thirty years, he traversed this road, Soon he will be sixty years old, How many stories of him being told, Maybe none or just untold, He has neither diamond nor gold, Even a blanket to keep off the cold, The luxury of love is a luxury load, Those lonely heart has just been sold.. Sold mysteriously with a deity code, A code those tyrant has sowed, Within their circus this being leaped like toad, Wondering when will he reap all he sowed? Faraway thou seems O' dream, So far like the stars

At the other side, Their silhouette beckons, We murdered their pride Their tears we unoften reckon Oh, the silent eyes wails, Their bittered lips quaked When all else fails; No one at their aid.. Their heavy heart sails, Every night at mercy bay, No more vitality in their veins, With hunger and loss, they lay At the other side, My aperture clicked, Like a lily that went dried; The unsheltered ones limped Oh, their ebony flesh flakes, They walk among the living like a ghost, Their ghostly spirit further breaks, As none to call their host, We threw them coin for cakes, My Clansmen and I kill them the most, They silently hope for daybreaks, Maybe a better stake at your post, At the other side, We stood aloof and watch Some shook their heads and sighed; Helping now looks like a botch, Oh, their bones stood at frail, They twine with hunger like a friend, Every night, they shiver in the gale, Wondering when their su

So witty a wife, Nostalgic from time past; Like perfectly a sun to life, Thou completely fits my heart; An awesomeness like no other; The virtuous being of its kind, Thy beauty I enviously ponder, How it ruthlessly conquered my mind , Who dare traverse with thee ? Only the bravest, strong and fast; A woman warrior have ever seen, Thou remain a fountain to last .. To last forever and a day A day into eternity, Even if my breath with me should fail; It would wake me with thee in immortality ; ( Poem: “Ethereal Wife” by Olorunleke Odubote )

Adieu  Eugenia The windy sky has ceased to blaze, She left the horizon with a tethering trace, The end deeply rooted below the ground She slipped away forever without a sound Thou was away to the river for a night, Who told the sky not to bear its light? The sky has shredded another shiny star Though sad; I surely know where thou hath, When thou saw the heaven at a glance; In thy spiritual journey like a trance Thou saw its beauty and its jasper stone; So rapturous at the sight of thy brethren Gladstone, Will I now summon thee for a second? The mortal sullenly beckons.. But thou has gone beyond, Far from here, but thou is still young? Let’s unwind through our parchment soul, Thou through thy poems thy lyric glows, A writer, giver and an active citizen, This life is short, all ye please listen, Death came in his sulky trot, Wantonly took Eugenia with the illness plot He wrapped her with an eternity cloak, The inevitable came wit

Hurriedly... Cloths off, Shoes kicked out, About to go rough Not by mouth; How ooo ... I mean a seasonal bout; Only for the night Just for two, Nuptials fight, Never a rule; No No No ... I mean No one can sue; Hurriedly ... Wig off, Skirts askew Hands cuffed, Then blouse breakthrough  No no no ... I mean no rescue Knuckles drawn, Thighs apart, A battle till dawn, Then later a restart, No oo Nuptial fight, pls adapt No legal tussle, This is a war, More like wrestle Spectators only for the wall, No oo ... one or two Those birds on the wall, They overheard the creak, Those noise from the fist, Pounding to the peak The owls may spread the gist Clapping and slapping; (Poem: “Nuptial Fight” by Olorunleke Odubote ) Painting by Vincent Grondin

O’ dirt, thou quicked’d to death, With thy tattered hands and choking smell; Thou has further marred our ailing health, Our town and market square looks like hell O’ dirt, thou a harbinger of sickness, Not you.. I blame my town for rearing thee, They harbor’d thee because of their recklessness While thou feast on their children thou kill, If our town can be clean and pure, Then cholera and malaria would stop; Chase out dirt and long life is sure, Don’t litter… pick every dirt you drop’d Tidy all drainage and those alike, Embrace sanitation as thy clarion call, Make cleanliness thy watch word to abide Teach thy children to obey all hygienic law O’ dirt, thou can no more sojourn here, We’ve cleansed our hands from thy curse, My clansmen and UN has vowed to end thee this year, Before 2030; we would end thee by force (Poem: “Dirt” by Olorunleke Odubote)

My country people lets talk, The earth hurts daily of boredom, Those seasonal guests had deserted her soil, No more trees and wheat, they had long-gone Why cast out your fork and owes? The ground longed for its hair to be combed, Our clan is a friend of the soil not foes, This land has fed us from the days of the old, We are starved… Our breaths are strained, The fruits are scarce Even when it just rained, Our farmland is dry, The stronger has gone to the town, More commuters than food, lets try Farming tagged to the commoners and clowns, Garri refuses to swell, The grains are scanty, O’ we grief Only few for the market to sell, Even when the earth is willing to give Your parents are hungry and old, Your kinsmen are starved still blind, Your children are angry and cold, When their fathers neglected farmland for the mines, This land is fertile and fat, The sky always there to uphold our course, Go back to farming and m

So subtle, So virile, So turbulent yet liberal, Thy tidings is of a better future, But thou has rubbed me off my culture, Tide of the west; Thou the better of the rest, Thou came with iron fist and chain; The heritage thou carted away is our bane, My ancestors religions are lost, My dialect now dead and rust; Our earth has shredded away her treasures, To feed thy games and leisure's, T ide of the west, Thou has taken us far from our nest Our ship now harbor’d on a shallow coast Our tradition to this generation is a ghost; O’ tide of the west , Still thou is the best; Not like such that unguardedly kills, Still I will always choose thee, Can thy tide be gentle and mild? Let it bring more relief to our yuletide, Those rustiness that comes with its breeze, We will ignore and accept thy bliss , (Poem: “Tide of the West” by Olorunleke Odubote)

I remember pelimeseki A lady from medisedeki One of the daughters of zion Having the sheba's beauty of armour Her body was like a throne  Shinning with light like a crystal cone Not of the likes of jezebel and Delilah Their body full of darkness and denial Any virtuous woman among you? The daughters of zion are always few Stop the earthly riches and body lust Youthful skin will get old and turn to dust (Poem: “ pelimeseki ” by Olorunleke Odubote)

An Ode to my father, Thou a god like no other, Thy prowess illuminates like the sun, Sparklingly glad to be thy Son, A young warrior from birth, Thy warship at Imodi-Mosan was berth, An Ijebu-lagos finest of men, With unwavering principles unlike men An Ode to the Lion of my clan, I give homage to him that made me man; Who dare confront thee in the battle of wars? Thou that roars and ride on their corps; Thou sharpened my canine than hunting bone, My bicep wantonly tamed all flaming bows, My father the native jaguar of the hills, Thou that commands the turbulence of the sea, An Ode to a virile and humble lover, An inner muse beyond the armour cover,  Thou the sparkles to my mama's eyes; Through a bond of unconditional ties; My father is not just a gem, He is the finest of men, A priceless reflection of perfection, He wears respect and love as attraction. (Poem: “Ode to my Father” by Olorunleke Odubote)

I quickened to taste, Alas, thou has gone sour I took my parchment in haste, And lay to the foot of those in power Where is our salt? The marrow of our clan, The treasure we never bought, The oil of our land; Why thou sweetened not? Where is thy light? The sect of the Capital has eaten thee raw; They carted them all in a daylight, Our salt, our today The colonials depleted thee to a pint, None to use for our baby on born-days, The democrats now buried all in their pits; Our salt, our future Give us some we are mal-nourished Let us taste their source before rapture, Show me thy pillar, my land seek thee to flourish, Our children were promised to be crowned, But the elders never left the throne, Those  the salt chooses are drowned; The Elders install theirs and only their own, The salt of my land where hath thou? Thou the children of my clan, Spring forth and come to us now, Take thy glory and trample their plans