Somewhere in the silent recess of my mind
A forgotten memory is re-born
Memory of a miracle that never happened
On that gloomy day, darkness hunted our hopes
...
PULL MY STRINGS
Pull my strings oh Muse,
And my smart fingers will
...
Like the ever eluding ebb of tide;
The gradual graying of the once yellow sun
The plot is cheating my notions
‘Tis is beating my imagination
...
Cursed be that day
Yea, woe betide that gloomy day
When the ram-rod straight, oven-hot carbide missile
Targeted no-one but you
...
If the sallah cow wanted a revenge
A payback for spilling its blood
For savouring its salty meat
It should’ve sought subtler ways
Not my own flesh
Olounmaje, Not my life!
...
Omoolewa, omodara odejo
Thou beauteous of beauties
Thy gait of feline grace
and spotless charming face
...
Under the burning sky we toiled that day
Night embraced day and the sky grew gray
...
In the archery age, arrows are most dreaded
Ravenous Swords and jackknives too
Of ghastly fear and shock in man they render
In this jet age, bombs and missile are most revered
...
Some invest in silver, gold and all that shimmers
Some in their allies, folks and progenies
Some in thrifts and assets that knows no wither
And every wealth is an offspring of well spent monies
...
Covenants are better kept; not twisted or broken
Sacred words like ‘i love you’ unsaid than spoken
These days, words have betrayed the intents of my heart
But the ink that resides in my pen shall flow in smooth rhythm
...
Delay is no denial
Amid sturdy desire
Rooted within steep
Deep, leap’d emotions you
...
Portraying in true light, the grandeur of your matchless beauty
Is a quest that tends to the impossible
...
Milady, when thou ask of me
About thy beauty
I’ll tread a clean path
Not the hackneyed of his
...
Stillbirth
Somewhere in the silent recess of my mind
A forgotten memory is re-born
Memory of a miracle that never happened
On that gloomy day, darkness hunted our hopes
And we groaned in the abyss of defeated bliss
Our joy, grew wings and flew away into skies of oblivion
Though, the heavens roared aloud
It poured no showers from its towers
Not even a dropp to revive a dying leaf
From the taunting grip of death
Grandpa would have called such, fate!
And in my head paint the picture of a three-headed monster
Who shakes the very foundation of all mortal’s faith
Fate O Fate! You villain that carts away grand treasures
The old witch that spares none, even a day old!
You ended a life before it could begin
Fate, destiny or whatever you bear
Wherever you are, lend me your hears
Stand not so tall, this is no feat
In no time, your maestro shall fall
With the golden pen, the one who resides above
Shall re-write this memory, pleasingly in my heart
This birth will be Still not more
And a miracle shall be carved in timeless memories!
Dedicated To Kikelomo!