OLADEJI POPOOLA

Last night was for Linda Crige chanting of love excitement that wakes the sleeping forest. Six rounds sex... What is my concern?
Nevertheless, uncle is back with Mercy Bukas. Tonight I shall spy through the keyhole.

But it was not like yesterday, my eye greeted the vixen of the moment with the intensity of the sun. But the night was for conversation! for conversation!
...

Friend, this is my appeasement feast.
This time I won't mind to bring it to church.
It is the same bread and wine our lord left us with love.
...

Friend, you must rise and keep rising,
there are times when life depresses us,
times when it seems we are being drowned
in water of tribulations, times when life
...

She sedates me with her petals fragrance,
A times, after a rainy day, her rainbow lines
the sky and descends on my heart.
...

Oh! My viable seed laid on the surface
of perfect loam in the midst of it consanguinity
I called weeds. It set forth and grew sprout,
a moment of joy! it Struggled to grow among hundred
...

The garden is calm for lovers,
with bees foraging on nectars
and millipedes moving helter-
shelter for their daily routine.
...

I am not wealthy, but still,
you keep loving and hoping
my Honey. Still, you tell me
you never regrets we form a colony.
...

Calm it with prayer
the frayed home but
not to cry.
Oh! Son don't cry
...

In your fist lies the
paint of beauty, you gild
the sky with blue that makes
the dusk envy the dawn.
...

When a man turn to beast,
on a girl child he feast.
When a ram turn to bully,
Does and Kids become a
...

This is the path,
A path of silent rattle of a labouring mother,
She died in thousand eyes. The path of rot fleshes
and piteous infants of milkless breast.
...

I tried to write but my ink agglutinates
I tried to speak but it seems my
voice has been betrayed by the wave.
I forced my hands, my legs but
...

I aroused from sleep by the ringing
of my doorbell. Who is that I asked
vehemently? Replying me in a repeated
times, I am adulthood. Ah! Adult what?
...

Speak! but in your same godly voice when
the world never metamorphosed to
what it appears now.

...

Dare not to laugh at them. They had made a mistake.

Desire to hear from them, they have learnt not to plant on the path of erosion when the rainy season begins.
...

Mother, the tidal wave blows
toward the direction I voyage,
my sail fought tireless until it
gives up its last strength to the
...