My Poetry Diary

I heard their loud eerie cry from miles away mixed with crushes of bones and it's sultry damp; . My clansmen were tortured, massacred and wasted with their bodies littered at the cathedral turned mortuary; . If only death had strangled them in their dreams we could've cleansed the land with the blood of the lamb; . If only these were caused by the gods we could have appeased Amadioha and Ógun at its sanctuary; . But they were hounds and scavengers that came at the wake of the dawn to the rise of the sun with their hatchets, gun and knives to steal defenseless souls; . Who will heal the wounds of my clan or bury the fiery dog that relish only the fetus of the saintly virgins that offers prayers at the town's cathedral? . Not the rulers or those at the Aso rock can avert this calamity masterminded to cover their woes ... only God can save my foes !

I'd conquered death  twice with the  blood of the lamb, Death came again  with spikes and  a softy guise, She fleshed up her  bony tail with her  stinging balm, I looked at her  eyes and I said  name your price; "What's your  favourite meal aside  blood and bone?", My blood is bitter  and can't be spilled  even for a pint, "Then what's your  cherished Jewellery  aside skulls and thrones?" So go away,  I am a body of light; I have no grave,  my place is among the  people of scented lips, Dig not the hole  that goes six feet  into the land of the hades, I won't sleep there,  I won't step there, I won't dwell among it's keep; My clansmen please don't go  to an empty grave,  Am not there, I've said this... I won't be in the shadow of  casted beings of death  for thousands years, Where death icy hands  torment the soul

To the leaves at every fall that falls; They melted away and with the wind they swayed; Their chlorophyll became ghost to the stalk in their stalls, Though separated from their stalk but their essence never fade! I stumbled upon death and we conversed thrice lately, A warlord of beauty with undaunted pride, She pounces, pant, and braces stately, Wanting my mortality within its whirl tide, I have no grave within death's abode or beneath; Do not cry for it's emptiness when am gone, My flesh to the dust I humbly bequeath, My leaf has flown with the wind waiting for reborn. (Poem: “Empty Grave 1” by Olorunleke Odubote)

"I heard the whisper that don't cross that line; But I am diversity - I am not bound to a clan; Now becoming a mirage - no longer invited to dine; But l've being here from the early days of man; I know the homes of kings and places of treasures, I bring positive critics to your teams and boards; Within my arms peace is possible and we all know for sure, I bring resonance and symphony with my strings and chords," . "Like an unwanted guest, we chased you out; We left you shattered like a broken mirror reflecting million faces; My clansmen called you names, such as being north, east, west & south; My darling diversity is only here like a bridge to connect us to heavenly places; We sunk your ship beneath the deep sea of time, My nation has forgotten the climax of 1960 and the likes, We crashed your pride like a calabash of slime, Now at your absence different nation strikes, . "We are here, we are one; We are Divers

The beast of the road, so nostalgic a bus; The type painted in yellow before modernisation emerged, The memory of jumping molue now came to me as a rush, At whose entrance the calamity of humanity submerged; Molue once acclaimed lasgidi king of the road, The walking mammon that fumes like Apapa chimney, Within its midst ethnicity mingled with people and load, Molue, the rescuer of the just and lonely… This is another market place on the run, A place to barter your footwear for the fare, Within its midst we trade, party and fun, Only few can challenge the conductors that were mean and dear; In the Molue, robbers dare not prevail, When the anthills dwell among commuters, But beware of the pilferers and pickpockets on the rails, They were the agberos that pretend to be transporters; Molue the envious of its pairs, On whose body tattoos of praises and inspiration engraved, Molue that scares the warders by its stares; The only abode the meek a