I strongly believe that the world can be comfortable to live in if youths channel their strengths towards the right ends. To me, the world is not so small we must all compete to live in it, but rather too big for all of us to occupy. My dream is to live in a world of youths who have a passion for excellence and an unquenchable thirst for God.
As a Christian, I pray that all of us come ... more »
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Tolu Akinwole Poems
Like a sudden appearance of death, The image intrudes on my vision, Trampling underfoot every obstructing thought Like a hurt man bent on revenge,
Patch the Gap
patch this gap - this widening abyss in my heart
Of the Jungle Dancers
See them caught in the throb of the drum, Jumping and flying, exposing their heads To the mocking eyes of the sun
A Letter to my Any-Me
My dear any-me, It is from the bottomless bottom of my heart That these words ooze forth With the ease of a pregnant woman.
'Unman my Man' [to F. F.]
a loud bang, and that was it. it uncorked the bottle locked within, yanking off the gentle blanket
She slipped away softly silently but after a long duel
To My Friend The Artist
Madness - How you hate that word! But are we not mad -
In the morning, They cook the food in a large pot, Telling us that when it's done We will eat and refuse to eat.
my caged bird's flown away; it's gone away with the rainbow, and now my cage is hungry.
The Dead Celebrates His Death
The finest cemetery in town Festooned with distant flashing lights Changing colours like the chameleon's skin Will sit today on the feathered seat of time
I Don't Know
What will it take the monkey to denounce its friendship with the banana? I don't know.
They Come Back Just in Time
The early morning bird never seems to get tired, She sings and sings and sings enchanting tunes of the past. But wait a minute, what do I hear? A piece that cuts through my soul
Comments about Tolu Akinwole
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Like a sudden appearance of death,
The image intrudes on my vision,
Trampling underfoot every obstructing thought
Like a hurt man bent on revenge,
It reminds me of my offence
And brings to light my sins.
I feel the touch of conscience -
It's as a sharp needle thrust into a balloon -
For the time of forgetfulness,
Of favours so big, but soon forgotten.
The vision -
A painting of all my sins,
All results of forgetfulness
Lingers on in my mind.
The thief must be executed,
The killer must be killed,
But what heppens to the ...