My Poetry Diary

 I watched the August stars dwindling down, Shedding out their light in an eerie sound; Few more full moons and the year is out; But will the field yield its mead is still a doubt. I lowered the car window and took in the August air; It was bittersweet like an old Irish beer; The stereo just spoke of another covid strike; Erstwhile the Minister husky voice mentioned the gas hike; With my glasses over the nose, I soberly smeared, Through the August night I quietly steered; On a crowded highway along the water town, As I watched the August stars dwindling down. (c) gafar -  August stars

Twenty widows at the confessional pleads, ‘O thou send a soothers as thy spirit leads, Twenty more long years will make thy servants numb, A momentary storm that will make thy ladies come’ Amidst the metal grill, the priest subtly grinned, With a crucifix he bade the hallowed wind, ‘Howbeit thou seekth no pertinence to thine needs, O twenty widows accept thy Godspeed'. (c) gafar

I heard the trumpet, the crier has come; Alas some tiding, hear his call; Amidst the clouds and batá drum, Be not weary (he says), the rain will fall; With her fresh airs, that give a sensual hum, Gather around, your little ones, old and all, She will wash away the dustiness, covid and glum, Hasten your steps, deliberately it will pour. (c) gafar - Rain will Fall

As I traverse countless stars, In a sleep far and beyond mars, O’ Lord keep me safe from all graves, Make me sail gallantly above all waves, But if I should die at those hours, Let it be a concord that’s only ours; Be my light all through the way I pray, Acquit me O’Lord on judgement day I say. Gafar Odubote, "As I traverse the countless stars", copyright 2020

Another tree was dropped - what a loss!, From the axes and plastics that suffocated her bud, She was the giant one, I heard the powerful thud; Lamenting and supplicating while she sobbed. I listened closely and made the notes. Last night she heaved and saw not the light, She peered through, but the reflections were none of the stars - she cried! Erstwhile its beauty beckons even at night; Planet earth is dying even to mars - she sighed! The cheerful bees were long gone and said their byes, The squirrels sore-throated and sneezes with hollowed skins; The butterflies punctured wings with emissions flaked eyes; The little ones chopped, those were her kins. She sent her roots to the sea but met a dead deep; The thrash has taken over; The sea was forced to sleep; The deities were angry at the sea-rover; She heard the ancestors exclaimed “ O' abomination” The goddess abode long gone and desecrated: With plastics, and chemical defecation; ...

The path of circle, leads from here to here, Behold the karma, is unfair and near; Lo, the scepter of mercy wielded by the garment of aristocracy, O! wearied constitution and of the patched injury by hypocrisy:  The mediocre’s singspiel crowed aloft and quaver not, With profligacy, the elite yielded in piety and rot; What connections have rectitude and piety? The clergies with honed pipe of dubiety. what relevance is sanctity in hell? The path of circle, leads from here to here, In ardor of promises; the ordained futilely yelled; O, far gone utopia and paradise smeared; Sorry I have not; thou ordained the rot and the scepter; The nobles and clansmen aswarm with nepotic nectar; O friend! be purified and soberly fight; The sobriety of faith and decency is in flight. Gafar Odubote, “Karma”, copyright 2020

A Lagos workers’ life; The buzzing starts at five! The eyes sleeps and walk, Everyone meet and talk, They wake before a rooster crow, And get home to startle the Owl. Their necks dangling in ties, Commuters soaked in miles; The honks and horns breaks the tide, The hawkers and peddlers fervently glide; A rush up the lift or stairs in swift; To avoid bossy morning rift, Lips burnt with gallons of coffee, Surrounded by ladies that tastes like toffee; The AC bites off the tropical sun, At every 5 minutes, they uncontrollably yawn. At every 4 minutes the table phone scowl, Followed by husky voice with intermittent dusky growl, Files in hand and some undated scrolls, They come up with excuses for a deniable no! Hurriedly instinct summoned every tales of data, A shield and armor, before a worker gets a sack letter; So little they do and little undo; Depending on the take-home bundle; Again at an outbound round of five, So start again a Lago...

Perfect night, starry eyes; Nothing is as beautiful as the color of your eyes, It shines like the sun and gives like the trees, It echoes like a melody and soothes like the breeze. Silky dresses, as dark as the night; Wantonly, what a craving sight; It mesmerizes and every men want to say hi, Nothing is as sensual as the rhythm of your sighs, There a fairy with the hair as white as snow; Her countenance teaches the light to glow, Delicately wrapped in Tiina Talumees’s blue; She is the most perfect of the beau. Gafar Odubote, “Perfect”, copyright 2020

We found a spot on the pipeline along the way, We cracked her open so the golden fluid gushed and spewed the hay: Our jerrycans wantonly filled and like rain we got soaked in its splash; We struggled for the fountain but without a clash; Alas, we sprouted chaos in the clans that it’s a gift drawn from our soil, So we fought the authority to give us good return from our oil. Amidst shouts and excitement, my clansmen drew the carbon blood, Then came a bang from the hay amidst the flood, The fluid o’er the stone and flesh starting to burn, While she spewed, danced and glittered in the sun, The day suddenly dawned and I knew we were wrong; I pushed beyond the crowd but the inferno came with a thirsty tongue, It licked our mixed sweets and the innocent eyes far aloof; I lifted my head and I saw the vultures hovering above, This was the last thing I saw and I knew it was the end; We cracked the pipeline and we are dead. Gafar Odubote, “Golden Fluid”...

On this street, O’ what a sudden cease; The beauty came but we couldn’t hug and bloom, O’ what a plague, my nose cannot savor the breeze; Or being tickled and wantonly sneeze. If this should pass, I will hang out more to see the moon, I will run free and perceive all earthly scents, I will shake hands with clansmen and strangers alike, At the market square, will I pitch my tents, To talk more about having a clean earth; I will walk in the rain and watch as each thunder strikes. I will be at crowded beaches in splashes of waves, Rolling on crowds at every ‘thank God is Friday’ Drinking from the same bottle with Usman and Daves, Beastly shouts as African braves; And watch Manchester United at every single matchday. If this should pass, I will come home early from work, To be at SEA and KOE’s bedside and sing some lullaby, Sharing bedtime stories with a subtle tuck, No more excuses for Agbeke or scouting for an alibi. Gafar Odubote, “If thi...

When death takes the flesh! In an harvest of time when unmellowed; Earthly tears rolls through the serpent mesh; Hurriedly taken unhallowed; Then the light went off the erstwhile spunky eyes; After the fall and rise of turbulent quests; Her soul has gone with the butterflies 🦋  A vivacious soul has gone to rest. Resting In the firmament beyond the sky; In paradise to heed to the subtle call; Maybe you rise and say goodbye; You left without one and I mourn. Alas, you gave us memories and though we wept; Thank you for toiling for better humanity till last breath. Gafar Odubote, “Serpent Mesh”, copyright 2020 (To Marit; a cheerful soul - rest on)

Those eyes I saw, Held me nigh like a crystal ball; O’ Mirror, Mirror thou watching the world; I know already she is the prettiest of all! So succulent, So raw! Wildly enticing, I wanted more. But I knew those eyes I saw; Thou a goddess basking by the shore, Entangled thou bid me to thy eyes; slowly I met at thy flirty stare; Thy magical voice is a fire and an ice; Thou so seductive, thou so rare; Those eyes burns like the sun; I seek thy heartbeats, I found none; In thy grasps the flesh heaved to spun; Awestruck, thy webbed arrogantly won. Those eyes; O’  Näkk  they cunningly stuns; Thou so seductive, thou so rare; Thine hypnotic murmur wantonly burns; O’ charmer of the lakes, thou with snowy flaming hair, Thy charms had me wantonly in thy snare; In a quicksand I dare fight not in thy lair. By the river in thy abode I knew where, Those eyes I saw are magical, I swear. Gafar Odubote, “Eyes of Näkk”, copyright 2019 ...

The accuser of the brethren came stealthily with scythe and dye, Bow now! he said with this breath of ash, Alas! He struck and the wheat bleeds crimson and die, And thro’ the dye he faked wounded with a slash; The wheat stooped but deeply rooted with the tide, The crucifer grinned and climaxed in front of the sire; He accused again with a flirty wind of pride; Let’s burn his stalk, he said with a fire; The Sire nodded and said not in my eyes; The leaves are yours but the root is not for thee; The wheat heaved to the opinion of the wise,  Mother Earth whispered, ‘i will nurture thine fibrous feet to a tree’, The sage pleaded for a truce and not much. Howbeit thou bury a dust on the urge at thy please? Gloatingly he strutted, and that’s the end of such. For eternity, the tree is at bliss. Gafar Odubote, “the accuser and the Wheat”, copyright 2019

O' beautiful morning breeze, sated in thee; Thou my lover, a pure magic indeed; A little more sunshine and tidings will be, This is pure magic, like the Nordic singing bee; At such a time when paradise is far, The youth at its prime, gazing the star; Alas he said, "what a sight to grope", "To see the star, a pure magic i hope“ O’ what a sight, when the lily wakes and smile, A sight to behold as I breathlessly wait for a while, The petals unfolds to thirst the morning dew; This is pure magic, a magnificent view  But a pure magic i divinely seek, To see Africa radiantly at its peak, Only love and unity and no parasite, And the environment is clean like a paradise Gafar Odubote, “this is pure magic”, copyright 2019

She smiles with perfection, like the star; Of happy bright lights adorning the sky, A reflection of all beauties both near and far; So adorable her looks, wantonly high; Her smile I match not, mine a musky tar, Only goddesses have those, a beauteous eyes.  And on the cheek, and o’er that lips, A joyous stream flows, radiating like the sun. So serene so pure, captivating to a grip; So divine, so bright, charming to a stun, The smile softly beckons and all hearts skipped, Deeper in love, what a smile has done. On her face erupts with the brightest smile, Like the daffodils blossom in spring time, A reminder of the solemn moment on the aisle, Creates in me a symphony and a rhyme, Shrinking Lagos traffic to less a mile, Howbeit it took me such a while, Gafar Odubote, “She Smiles with Perfection”, copyright 2019

I summon thee my voice, From the crevices of the thorns, Break free and forth from the weedy noise, Those from the clansmen jealousy drums; O’ what a dissonance their blabbering uttered; O’ voice Come forth with thy ethereal melody, Thou as horned from the ancestors alter, Let thy sweetness conquer their greed and parody, Flow with thy pure magic and healing balm, Like the symphony of angels voice, Heal my clan with thy rhythmic psalms, I summon thee my voice. Gafar Odubote, “I summon thee my voice”, copyright 2019

Ode to my grayish woolly socks, Tightly thou hug my swollen butter feet, In thy comfy room my toes joyously tucks, Howbeit to thy flesh it sinks to bits; Tirelessly thou mop the tears from my toes, Gafar Odubote, “Ode to my Socks”, copyright 2019

The wind is widely awake, Rattling my mind into bits and away, Tossing my essence a thousand mile to thee, To thy abode, a place beside the Baltic Sea. Little longings though disturbing but I crave, For a place in thy secret fairy cave; Where the roses make the night golden hue; And the day a summer butterfly blue O’ wind, now I bid thee to my will; I seek a place where two hearts wantonly seal, Like the waves to the ocean bond from the core, I would lay tangled at thy Baltic shore; Tonight I sail wondrously on thy wings, Like the feather on a summer wind, Tomorrow I care less, only at thy side I want to be; A thousand mile near the Baltic Sea;

Òhún mìí, thou a subtle one but deep, Erstwhile thou sit among the gods and glory, Thy sweetness resonates from beneath the dip, At thy stead, conveys the untold story; Once upon a time a stammering òhún quakes; As a little brat on strings and harmony, Amidst the emeralds and diamond flakes, Òhún broke her chord and lost the symphony;  Thou a warrior, Jaguar of my clan; Without Spears or steel the flesh bleeds at their shriek, Savoring  In beginning was a void, A void broken by a sound; The sound of an eerie voice, My òhún chant as the god of òhún abound; And there it sang, The wisdom of the tides,

As the sun escaped the grasps of prying eyes, I found myself in awe of thy folded arms; I lost my breath in the silhouette of ecstatic cries, No two heart beats as we become singular in folded arms. The shrieks, hoots and wind came at still, The crowds, chaos and gunshots all at ease; There are no cries, wailing, or shrill, In thy folded arms I found my deepest peace. #poetry #foldedArms