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

At the patriarchate side I woo; The cemetery in silence and at lone; Where the European ancestors lay in frozen wool; As they mellow darkly in their medieval bone; Long gone lost are their sonorous cord; Whisper of sounds only comes from shattering jaws; From their sockets they stared at an African god; Me’ an erstwhile slave at their door; Only here to have a chat; With the masters we served in temperate blood; My slave master that fettered mother to iron cart; I ruffled their soil now as an African god, Bring now out thy smoking whip of teeth, Those with blades that ate so deep; It drips even to thy bottomless pit, And this will haunt them as they sleep. But to the spirits that once walked with love, To them I will play my poetry song; As they make stories at their gravely doors, Still, their beings bow to an African God; Their internment gowns askew on holy bricks, On their beds, their bones quake at its legendary; With incense and beads, I bid a requ...

In my silence a soul traverse; In a cavern at manna la rossa; The gods and deities on its walls converse; I saw Tallinn ancestors and medieval la rossa; An African Manhood on its wall it glares; So dark and thick like the one I bear; O’ black and sumptuous; my companion stares; Adam and Eve stood bare chested in pair; From vana-viru a goddess walks; Her body moves with the seas and the snow, Like the waves of the Jägala waterfall ; A beau with the sun thou wantonly glow; I have seen her before in seasons past; Wildest of shape and beastly heart; Our countenance has never for once a minute last; Thrice I asked for a memory pact; O’ my chronicle of Lady Anca; A beauty I behold from afar; An affection mixed with anger; A rare time traveler I refer ... Thy shadow trails the snowy wild; Like a doe shadows her feeble fawn; Thy footprint rides the tempest tides; For seasons, am thy greatest fan. In this historical apothecary I quaver; From thy mysterious gleami...

Here goes home my cherished September; Three more moons to December, After scores of days or more, I can't remember; Till I'll have back my darling September; I'll tucked myself a lullaby in my torpid blanket, Like vampires hide in decades in caskets; I will sleep the tides over only after it lasted, Till September comes at my door in her magical jacket. Leke Odubote, “September”, copyright 2017

I was summoned to the land of the mountain and cloudy gods; . Those that tamed our clan with a mirror, holy book and the sword; . Their darkness was overwhelmingly thicker than the covens of the black, . They smoke like a chimney to commune with their gods with garlic rods; . At their abode are gloomy angels that stand in ravens cloaks; . Those martyred for the mundane fleshy feat; . From their cleavage flows the source of murky greyish dip that hid the sun; . The darkness is at their horizon, hovering at the tip of every wreath; . I know It beckons... the end of the world, . The apocalypse have sucked out every tiny air with its wooden pipe, . Those pipes that connect our world beyond the path of redemption; . The air is gone, so choked we are yet the harvest of the world is yet to ripe; Poem by Olorunleke Odubote

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...

BVA : I could feel his hands caress my skin softly while I reminisced in the days leading up to this. OGO : Those were like the days when the sunshine sparkles stardust to our eyes and we teased. BVA : He whispered that Lights would guide you home and ignite your bones. And i will try to fix you. OGO : She took my breath away with her stance that shook my sanity, till I had no clue. BVA : I know it’s really clichéd but he’s got a smile that can light up a room and fill your heart with warmth. OGO : From afar I know she is hot. Like a fire am burning with her amber eyes till I became ashes and burnt. BVA : My lips curled as he whispered those words into my ears as we laid there tangled in each other. OGO : With my dying breath I wrapped my arms round her tiny waist; and she whispered to me that am her soldier. BVA : Right now all I wanted was to look into the eyes of the one person that i cared about, not a skype video, to tell him he was my world...

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 t...

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...

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...

I reconcile Before I turn to dust, Before my sanity turn grey and lost; Here I stand to reconcile with Jah; By the bank of river Euphrates afar, Where my reflection recount the deeds, Of those years I planted few seeds; Yesteryears wantonly on lofty heights Immersed in my imaginary ecstasy rites; I am a year today as before; Numeral birthday wishes I devour'd I reconcile with you my shadow; Speak the truth, as I go beyond the meadow, Before my flesh goes beyond the bar; I would save the world best way I can, I reconcile within me for inner peace, Now a year older, I seek eternal bliss... I counted my guilt and scars, So less than my truths and stars Those tears that freely flow like rivers, Soaked more than once like a fever; I break free from shackles and the lots, A new day beckons, I resist not, I anoint my flesh to heed only to heaven wish, From the parchment of truth I teach.. Before the light goes from my sight; And...