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Skillful Guidance

He guided them by the skillfulness of his hands – Ps 78:72

When you are doubtful as to your course, submit your judgment absolutely to the Spirit of God, and ask Him to shut against you every door but the right one…Meanwhile keep on as you are, and consider the absence of indication to be the indication of God’s will that you are on His track…As you go down the long corridor, you will find that He has preceded you, and locked many doors which you would fain have entered; but be sure that beyond these there is one which He has left unlocked. Open it and enter, and you will find yourself face to face with a bend of the river of opportunity, broader and deeper than anything you had dared to imagine in your sunniest dreams. Launch forth upon it; it conducts to the open sea.

God guides us, often by circumstances. At one moment the way may seem utterly blocked; and then shortly afterward some trivial incident occurs, which might not seem much to others, but which to the keen eye of faith speaks volumes. Sometimes these things are repeated in various ways, in answer to prayer. They are not haphazard results of chance, but the opening up of circumstances in the direction in which we would walk. And they begin to multiply as we advance toward our goal, just as the lights do as we near a populous town, when darting through the land by night express. —F. B. Meyer

If you go to Him to be guided, He will guide you; but He will not comfort your distrust or half-trust of Him by showing you the chart of all His purposes concerning you. He will show you only into a way where, if you go cheerfully and trustfully forward, He will show you on still farther. —Horace Bushnell

As moves my fragile bark across the storm-swept sea,
Great waves beat o’er her side, as north wind blows;
Deep in the darkness hid lie threat’ning rocks and shoals;
But all of these, and more, my Pilot knows.

Sometimes when dark the night, and every light gone out,
I wonder to what port my frail ship goes;
Still though the night be long, and restless all my hours,
My distant goal, I’m sure, my Pilot knows.
—Thomas Curtis Clark

© Streams in the Desert

I will tell you what happens to us when we die
Families and friends won't just gather to mourn
And shed some sad tears over our graves
The good we did will forever live with them
And our memory will linger on in their hearts
Once or twice we will cross their paths in their dreams
But we are gone from this cruel world never to return

I will tell you what happens to us when we die
We don't just rust and decay
Some six feet below the earth
We don't end our lives as meals
On the table of the termites hiding inside the ground
We are raised beyond the reach of sadness
To a world where no wailing is heard
Where the streets are not littered with beggars
And the society not labeled with class
We are gone from this cruel world
Never to return

A man once walked this planet
He had neither home nor love
No family no friends
No legacy to survive him when he's gone
The dunghill had been his hiding
From the coldness of the moon
And the grievances of the sun

He rummaged the dirt of the hill for food
He drank from the slush in the gutters
Everyone avoided him
And he too avoided death
He didn't care for their comfort or company
He knew how to survive alone

He laughed at everyone and everything
He did not know what it feels like
To be broken on the inside
His own world was not marred with tragedies
And the sad waves sweeping across the world
Could not trouble him
The worries of life were alien to him

Everyone thought him mad
And he laughed at their foolishness too
Wondering where the true madness lied
Was it in him who was unbothered by the anxieties of life
Or they hopeless in their pursuit of an unstopping world
Who let the shadows of its passing cloud their minds
And blind their sense of judgements
And at the end they trade their souls
For momentary comfort
With the grave waiting to remind them of the meaninglessness of life

A man once walked this planet
He had neither home nor love
When he died he was thrown back to the dunghill
Where he lived all his life
Without any grave or burial
Unknown, unheard, and forgotten
Only to be redeemed by the pen of a poet

The lies I told when I was young
Were not because I was always wrong
But because no one believes if I told the truth

Each time I see the wipe hanging on the wall
I'm reminded the need to always say what they wanted to hear
This is the wisdom that guided my infant feet
Into the meadow of manhood

Now that I know my left from my right
The lies I tell as a full grown man
Has outgrown the power of my will
Like a wild fire beyond the redemption of its master
I tell lies not because I am scared of this world
Like I had been when naked I ran on the streets of childhood
But because I don't know how to tell the truth anymore

It is the darkness in the world
That blackens the light in us
The wreckages of history
Are the doom of humanity
And the good we lost in the days of innocence
We spend all the years of adulthood redeeming

The Lies I Told When I Was Young

The lies I told when I was young

Were not because I was always wrong

But because no one believes if I told the truth

Each time I see the wipe hanging on the wall

I'm reminded the need to always say what they wanted to hear

This is the wisdom that guided my infant feet

Into the meadow of manhood

Now that I know my left from my right

The lies I tell as a full grown man

Has outgrown the power of my will

Like a wild fire beyond the redemption of its master

I tell lies not because I am scared of this world

Like I had been when naked I ran on the streets of childhood

But because I don't know how to tell the truth anymore

It is the darkness in the world

That blackens the light in us

The wreckages of history

Are the doom of humanity

And the good we lost in the days of innocence

We spend all the years of adulthood redeeming

© Olatuja Oloyede

I Will Tell You What Happens When We Die

I will tell you what happens to us when we die

Families and friends won't just gather to mourn

And shed some sad tears over our graves

The good we did will forever live with them

And our memory will linger on in their hearts

Once or twice we will cross their paths in their dreams

But we are gone from this cruel world never to return

I will tell you what happens to us when we die

We don't just rust and decay

Some six feet below the earth

We don't end our lives as meals

On the table of the termites hiding inside the ground

We are raised beyond the reach of sadness

To a world where no wailing is heard

Where the streets are not littered with beggars

And the society not labeled with class

We are gone from this cruel world

Never to return

© Olatuja Oloyede

Unknown, Unheard, Forgotten

A man once walked this planet

He had neither home nor love

No family no friends

No legacy to survive him when he's gone

The dunghill had been his hiding

From the coldness of the moon

And the grievances of the sun

He rummaged the dirt of the hill for food

He drank from the slush in the gutters

Everyone avoided him

And he too avoided death

He didn't care for their comfort or company

He knew how to survive alone

He laughed at everyone and everything

He did not know what it feels like

To be broken on the inside

His own world was not marred with tragedies

And the sad waves sweeping across the world

Could not trouble him

The worries of life were alien to him

Everyone thought him mad

And he laughed at their foolishness too

Wondering where the true madness lied

Was it in him who was unbothered by the anxieties of life

Or they hopeless in their pursuit of an unstopping world

Who let the shadows of its passing cloud their minds

And blind their sense of judgements

And at the end they trade their souls

For momentary comfort

With the grave waiting to remind them of the meaninglessness of life

A man once walked this planet

He had neither home nor love

When he died he was thrown back to the dunghill

Where he lived all his life

Without any grave or burial

Unknown, unheard, and forgotten

Only to be redeemed by the pen of a poet

© Olatuja Oloyede

Do It Now!

A cup of cold water only – Matt 10:42

What am I to do? I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good work, therefore, any kindness, or any service I can render to any soul of man or animal let me do it now. Let me not neglect or defer it, for I shall not pass this way again. —An Old Quaker Saying

It isn’t the thing you do, dear,
It’s the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bitter heartache
At the setting of the sun;
The tender word unspoken,
The letter you did not write,
The flower you might have sent, dear,
Are your haunting ghosts at night.

The stone you might have lifted
Out of your brother’s way,
The bit of heartsome counsel
You were hurried too much to say;
The loving touch of the hand, dear,
The gentle and winsome tone,
That you had no time or thought for,
With troubles enough of your own.

These little acts of kindness,
So easily out of mind,
These chances to be angels,
Which even mortals find
They come in night and silence,
Each chill reproachful wraith,
When hope is faint and flagging,
And a blight has dropped on faith.

For life is all too short, dear.
And sorrow is all too great,
To suffer our slow compassion
That tarries until too late.
And it’s not the thing you do, dear,
It’s the thing you leave undone,
Which gives you the bitter heartache,
At the setting of the sun.
—Adelaide Proctor

Give what you have; to someone it may be better than you dare to think. —Longfellow

© Streams in the Desert

Our Great Opportunities

Hast thou seen the treasures of the hail, which I have reserved against the day of trouble? – Job 38:22-23

Our trials are great opportunities. Too often we look on them as great obstacles. It would be a haven of rest and an inspiration of unspeakable power if each of us would henceforth recognize every difficult situation as one of God’s chosen ways of proving to us His love and look around for the signals of His glorious manifestations; then, indeed, would every cloud become a rainbow, and every mountain a path of ascension and a scene of transfiguration.

If we will look back upon the past, many of us will find that the very time our Heavenly Father has chosen to do the kindest things for us, and given us the richest blessings, has been the time we were strained and shut in on every side. God’s jewels are often sent us in rough packages and by dark liveried servants, but within we find the very treasures of the King’s palace and the Bridegroom’s love. —A. B. Simpson

Trust Him in the dark, honor Him with unwavering confidence even in the midst of mysterious dispensations, and the recompense of such faith will be like the moulting of the eagle’s plumes, which was said to give them a new lease of youth and strength. J. R. Macduff

“If we could see beyond today
As God can see;
If all the clouds should roll away,
The shadows flee;
O’er present griefs we would not fret.
Each sorrow we would soon forget,
For many joys are waiting yet
For you and me.

“If we could know beyond today
As God doth know,
Why dearest treasures pass away
And tears must flow;
And why the darkness leads to light,
Why dreary paths will soon grow bright;
Some day life’s wrongs will be made right,
Faith tells us so.

“’If we could see, if we could know,’
We often say,
But God in love a veil doth throw
Across our way;
We cannot see what lies before,
And so we cling to Him the more,
He leads us till this life is o’er;
Trust and obey

The Fruit Comes Afterwards

The Lord hath His way in the whirlwind and storm – Nah 1:3

A lad sitting on an elevation of that mountain, and watching a storm as it came up the valley. The heavens were filled with blackness, and the earth was shaken by the voice of thunder. It seemed as though that fair landscape was utterly changed, and its beauty gone never to return.

But the storm swept on, and passed out of the valley; and if I had sat in the same place on the following day, and said, “Where is that terrible storm, with all its terrible blackness?” the grass would have said, “Part of it is in me,” and the daisy would have said, “Part of it is in me,” and the fruits and flowers and everything that grows out of the ground would have said, “Part of the storm is incandescent in me.”

Have you asked to be made like your Lord? Have you longed for the fruit of the Spirit, and have you prayed for sweetness and gentleness and love? Then fear not the stormy tempest that is at this moment sweeping through your life. A blessing is in the storm, and there will be the rich fruitage in the “afterward.” —Henry Ward Beecher

The flowers live by the tears that fall
From the sad face of the skies;
And life would have no joys at all,
Were there no watery eyes.
Love thou thy sorrow: grief shall bring
Its own excuse in after years;
The rainbow!—see how fair a thing
God hath built up from tears.
—Henry S. Sutton

© Streams in the Desert

The Optimistic's creed

Fate has choked on us

Our life driven by wind on monstrous sea

Conquered by our friendly foes

Invoking death and tears accompanied with plague

On our fatherland

Tonight, we bury our deads

For the they have joined our ancestors

Let us dress up our wounds for our visit

To the ancestors has been postponed

Let us sharpen our blades and smoothen our spears

For this is just our prologue

May fear not be the guest

But the gods in their very best

As we sit round the fireside,

May the gods ignite the fire inside

Sing! For this is the last dirge our lips would sing

Lay the young ones to sleep and sing them sweet lullabies

That they may take shield in their tender dream

We fight back

Like Herculean with strength on

We write fate with ink on the clouds

Commanding death on our foes like rain on pastures

No one tell our story like us!

Balogun David Tolulope {drunk poet}

IG-@ace_da_drunk_poet

©️2017

Looking for the bed of roses

It seems like yesterday
When I crawled down from my mother's
Womb
Drenched in blood and covered with nakedness
Compelled to cry,to give smiles and laughter
That I may not run to my fathers' tomb
Love and warmness were the embodiment
Of my first breathe
.
Soon, am employed, to chase away goats
And fowls in the neighborhood
I recited poems and my lips sing songs
To the moon and the beautiful stars
I danced in rain and played in the hay
With flowers not rollercoaster
.
The thought of life being all about
Rainbows and unicorns cling to my mind
Failure must be the treasure that is hard
To find
But the sun laughed at my ignorance
Now,I heard a call!
Echoing in waves through my childhood
The call of the future itself
.
I climbed hills and Cross oceans
Wilderness and valleys hosted me
Lion and tigers I battled
In the forest of rare determination
Looking for the bed of roses
But still lingering in my dream
And for I fear I might be woken
Soon enough .
Balogun Tolulopez Ayodeji David
(Drunk poet)
Of course..... All right reserved!!

Sister Bisi

Sister Bisi,
A serial fashion killer
From what I remember, her beauty was men's dealer.
Her ostrich legs would move her,
Like a car without adequate fuel
See, I doubt it if sister Bisi could really "fart"
.
Sister Bisi,
Her smiles could make you render
Her your head,
Of course, before placing her head-drink,
You would be dead!
Calling her "Beautiful" was an understament
.
Sister Bisi,
I once believed she was a witch
Her eye lashes elongated like a palm fronds
She could barely swallow "amala"
But she could linger on "noodles" and
"suya"
Her lips would dance like flowers in the air
When she says "like seriously"
.
Sister Bisi,
I admire you, till yesterday,
When a circle of unending presence beheld you
Besides the "gutter" you could barely cross
Your twins on the chest shaved away!
Like demolition of our public library.
"yahoo boys" I heard from murmurs, I was keen
Only to know that you were a "slay queen"
.
Balogun Tolulopez Ayodeji David(drunk poet)
©️2017
ANA Aaua chapter

Song Bird

(Soul Poet)

The day was young
The skies were blue
The dew bedewed roses
And yes we were young.

When you whistles,
I danced, without nesting.
And plucked you rose petals.

Winter comes, Spring comes,
But your red feathers warms.
In darkest and coldest times
Your whistling burns within my soul.
Oh Cardinal!.

You're spectrum of the seasons,
But the tree bends.
And nest splits.
Why did you left
Oh red bird.!
_niyeric9518

As maid cardinal departs her old love...... And finds a new home(bride)

#poetofinstagram #poemofthenight #poem #poet #niyeric9518 #soulPoet #love

STATE OF THE NATION

Mayowa Odewoye

by Mayowa Odewoye

A country once said to be the giant of Africa, a nation whose strength of Army once intimidated the strong, a country once said to be a fast growing nation, and a nation once known for peace and serenity. All these are for the old Nigeria. It is written "the glory of the latter shall surpass the former" but such is not the case of Nigeria. The state of Nigeria is dilapidating as some said 'leaders' have usurped and eaten the country to her bone. The politicians who want no good for this country have taken the country at the heart and are feasting on the public's sweat. These same politicians oppose enlightenment and education knowing that education leads to liberation, they distort the system so that it can hardly function right. They have their children get the best education abroad and prepare a safe haven for them from the public sweat. They use hungry and unlearned youth as machinery to perpetuate their callous scheme. They disguise and come in sheep's clothing but are ferocious wolves.

If we keep dancing and gaying with these people, the inequality line will continue to expand. The ungodly will continue to rule and rejoice while the polity will continue to lament and wail in anguish. They are like the devil that gives a kobo and takes a million in return. If we keep our hands fold not doing our civil responsibility, we will continue to breed vipers into our government.

Lately, the call for secession from the part of the Independent people of Biafra has been intense, the Movement for emancipation of Niger Delta is not left out. Have we asked ourselves the reason for this? The basic reason is the jejune state of the country where the people are dissatisfied with the government. Although, some of these group have political undertones but are first as a result of the prejudice and marginalization. The just concluded Lagos election is message enough to tell the government that the people have lost confidence in the country's government. Election where people refused to exercise their franchise and the few who did did perhaps because they were enticed with stipends.

Restructuring is the term we are singing now. The restructuring we are calling for, we are not defining it yet. What are we restructuring? How are we restructuring? Can we two wrongs make a right? The restructuring if not defined now, we will sing another song in the near future. The APC leadership set up a committee to look at the call for restructuring. The committee is chaired by Governor Nasir El-Rufai who once spoke publicly against restructuring. Have you thought of it? If we do not define the restructuring, we will be given something else.

I call the youth of the country to wake up from their sleep, wake up from their slumber, enough of selling your birthright for a meal like Esau, enough of giving yourself as a stooge for politicians. If you do not build your country someone else will use you to build his career. If you do not stand up for your country, someone else will use your children to build security for his children. If the Azikwes did not take up the responsibility to take the country from the colonialists the 1960's independent would not have been, if the Macualeys, and West African Student Union leaders did not stand for emancipation we would not have had our freedom. The youth forms the largest population yet, we do not avail the opportunity to build this country. There is misconception that power belongs to the government but hardly do we know that the power belongs to the people. The politicians know this that is why they divide and rule. Until we eschew tribal difference, nepotism and see strength in our differences we will not have a way forward. I urge all Nigeria youth to be optimistic, let the brotherly love be established and rescue the country for posterity.

God bless Nigeria.

This vituperation I spit today
A reminder of your yesterday
How you raped our culture
And sent us into eternal torture

Do you still remember the sacred temples?
That only allow clean hips and fresh nipples
Especially with a gate closed and locked
Till time-a-bound to be unlocked

Oh ye! Youthful lady in her prime
Who have tasted manhood when it's not yet time
Do you still remember the holy calabash
That split head shatter to a potash

Can you still claim a-wanna-be-angel
Perhaps it's now a story already foretell
Do you still remember the story of Àwèrò
Sísì-Ólòmóge in the society that forgot her row

How her buttocks tickle man's prick
Awakening that dead long stick
But was sentenced to forever exile
To a journey of far distance eight-mile

For romancing the taboo of our ancestor
That has been our driver and conductor
Alas! You still claim clean
Of a road to your womanhood narrow and lean

Then come along with us as the next Àrùgbàà
If unclean then face the wrath of Ígbaàà
The gods have spoken
And have given us their little token

For the next abundant odùn isùù
A new Àrùgbàà must taste the first isùù
If holy then we shall eat for the next decade
Alas! If unholy, we shall wallow into suffering arcade

Hear oh ye Òmìdán
In Yoruba word I say "mase s'arán"
Bask in the glory of your dignity
So as not to pound yam in futility

This Ìgbàà I send you today a-warning
Sleep not and stop the yearning
Romance not the traditional taboo
Lest we make you eat grass like "Malùù"

Ultimate search for a new Àrùgbàà has begun
And we shall search under this earthly sun
Remain strong till we point you
While we seek a dignified lady a-new

This poem was inspired by Ikoko-Akufo of Beautiful Nubia and Tunde Kélàni "Àrùgbàà"

At dusk,
Cloud of tears blurs our sight
I repeat, at dusk
Yes, cloud of tears blurs our sight.
The vocal cords has cease to tell the truth.

I see truth wailing
For not piloting justice
Yes, I see truth wailing
For not piloting justice
To her destination.

Son: daddy, why do people silence
Truth?
Dad: because it needs a saviour
Who will be the sacrificial lamb.

Love,

You will never die on the lips of the young

You won't ache with greyness

You are not the euphoria that is weakened by age

But you are the loud noise from the valley of magic

That flaunt awhile then faint into nothing

Leaving only sores and smokes everywhere you've been

You are the lawn of grass breeding spikes in the soul

You are the chains constraining the heart with tears and thorns

If all they say about you are true

That you are that gift from the Majesty of heaven

Your are the angel brooding over a lost world

And all that say "I love you" are sincere

There will be no more broken hearts

In the corner of gloomy rooms

There won't be helpless men watching their bruises with sorrowful hearts

After the long dance in the dome of friendship

There won't be betrayals among those who once dine in your name

Flowers can spring from where the grasses once grow

Though the bleeding will heal when her well of tears are dry

It is the wickedness in the lie called love

That she will never forget

If I was the king of angels

I will point my bow to the sun

Until the strength in its melts out

I will pour out all my glowing beauty into the sea

Until it's buried in the bottom of the waters

I will clip my wings as I walk

Through the court of heaven

I will ask God for one thing

Not for the golden crown

Or the celestial city

But a heart that loves sincerely

A heart that loves in us all

That is all we need

To conquer the world

To close the gates of hell

To restore peace on earth

To be secured in the endlessness

Of a timeless world

I'm a lonely wayfarer

Pregnant with dreams

I've a heavy hunchback

Of large wings waiting to break forth

That I may soar over the glades of time

But when over my weary years I ponder

I feel the rivers of my tears breaking its boundaries

The pangs of regret flood my brokenness

And I wish I'd trusted less lies

I love the eyes in my head

But I wish I had some in my heart

So I can see the traitors

The deception in their smiles

The hatred in their love

The death in there hugs

The pit buried in the sand of their smile

The agony of the past

Is sometimes fake friends or friendly enemies

Not too many down here knows who to trust

So when the twilight hide the sun

We just end up trusting no one

Sometimes unanswered prayers are God's greatest gifts. If all our prayers are answered, we may end up missing God's plan for our lives... Teach me O Lord to always say " Your Will be Done"

Not a Second of my Life

Not a second of my life must be without God down in this dark world. For many years, your faithfulness has kept me save, your love has tended me when my heart is broken, your presence has sheltered me from the wickedness of the world. You've been my healer when my mind is wounded and wiped my teary brow when I ache from the bruises of life.

It does not matter if it's death or life anymore because my lot in life is God Himself, my treasure is stored up in the locker room of heaven beyond the reach of moth and rust. For a moment, money had been my goal, for another, fame and power my pursuit, for yet another relationships, but these things don't give us the happiness or assurance we seek, rather they break us leaving us more shattered in our penury.

The love of God is one thing beyond my power of exaggeration. Sometime, my actions push Him away, yet He pardons them, even when I threw in the towel and turned my back to the cross hurrying off the path paved by His blood, He looks beyond my ignorance and follow still...

God, I may not be the best of your children, I may even sometimes forget to flip through the pages of the bible or pace out of my study many mornings forgetting to say thank you for a new day. But not a moment do I pray to spend in this weird dark and dangerous world without you.

The Lingering Scent of Fakindi War

"During the days of Akimba
Things were different
Boys travel down to the sacred groove to become men
With the blessings of their mother hanging around their neck
They eat the hearts of the leopards
And drink with the skull of lions

"They were prepared to terrify death
To laugh at the booming of guns
To survive when the daggers are drawn

"They were the heroes who fought in Fakindi war
Those born in our days still met the flakes of clashing spears
We heard the sound of clashing swords
The spark of war reached us after her heroes are all gone
They are the giants who rose and fell in battle
Who are born only to one end
To stand and die defending their people

"How can we forget the tradition
Of the heroes of that war
Their broken bones and lost graves
Are the sacrifices the earth cannot ignore
Their ghosts is the wind of bliss that blows across our world
That steadies our boats and readies our guns

"The great Fakindi himself was the brother of Akimba
Akimba our king joined his brother against nine kings
Those days when Akimba danced in the rain of guns
The days when my father, Batuyi bathed in the blood of our enemies
When Fakindi became the smoke that oceans cannot quench
The days of life
The days of death
The days of great groanings
The days when we still knew who we were
The days when men were men
The days when our pride was bravery
I still met the scent of that tradition
Lingering on the mountain top
Aching to survive but hastily dying out

"Time has changed my son
The next lorry that will pass the street Tansa
Will carry our sons away
The defender of our race
To lost them in places far away from home
Far from their own origin
Where they will be beggars all their lives
Begging the same people
Who once placed chains in the ankles of their fathers
Who stole their lives from them
The days when life is life are over

"But Kante, my son
It is your destiny to know who you are
Where you come from
The stories of your fathers
What you are
To know from which hole of the earth your ancestors sprout from

"You will go to the sacred groove to learn
How not to die
To walk in moonless hours with confidence
To answer with your guns not your legs when the lions roar
To become a man, a true man of Tansa"

Bambili voice sometimes has magic in it
But this night, it was the liquor of wisdom and silence
Flowing from his bleeding heart
Over an unredeemable past
Over a civilization buried in the grave of antiquity
That strained the air with a tinted smell
Making me feel what I couldn't feel

He stood with his eyes on the road
And hands on the door
I took off the leather sack
The door closed behind us
Tansa street lies beneath our feet
As we manoeuvre our way through a starless moment

The night was cold and quiet
Too dark that my little hunting lamp struggles with blindness
Soon we were on the path leading into the forest
Bambili suddenly came to a halt
Looked round and beckoned me in still whispers

"Kante, I must leave you now
From here you will find the route into your fate alone
A man will meet you as you go
But don't be afraid my son
I can only father a child
I can't father a man
You must be a man to survive alone"

Bambili took two steps backward
And then started walking away
Leaving me along in the palace of death

I wonder if this is truly happening
Or it's just another dream like the ones I had about Amanda
Few days ago when I saw her walking away from home
I checked the content of the bag I was carrying
A white wrapper was folded in it
With some kola, cowries, razor and two black strings
I wonder what all these are meant for

I stood there alone in dark
I had to make my first choice
Either to hurry back to the safety of my home
And jump into the arms of my mom
And remain a child forever
Or walk on into the dark with a trembling feet too weak to stand
Defiling the threat of beast and death
And become the man I see in Bambili
Fearless and loving
I stayed minutes at the crossroads of choices
Pondering which way to turn

Then one simple step I took forward
One more and yet another
Soon I was on my way into a realm I do not know
To do what I don't know
To meet people I don't know

And as I pressed into the sacred groove
I forgot death or life
I forgot Amanda and Tansa
I forgot Kante or Bambili
All that matters was to just keep going
With my little hunting lamp
And my leather bag
As my only companions into my own future

To be Continued on Monday
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The Climb

My heart is chafed
my head hurts
my head spins round and round

The others have gone far ahead
they have climbed on Eagles wings
and mounted sprightly stallions

Those closest to me smile
and shake their heads wisely
give it up, they say.
we know you cannot make it

They try to break
the spirit of my soul

But they do not know
with every stumble
with each fall
I am getting closer, closer

Tomorrow, I shall grab that dream
my head and my heart
shall hurt no more.
Then I shall smile

This is Destiny

When it was three days
Before Sosa festival
Bambili invited me to his room
He sat on his old wooden bed
The one his own fathers had sat
Wiping the mouth of his gun

When I entered, he didn't look up
He only pointed to a leather sack
Hanging idly on the wall
And began to speak so slowly
Like someone afraid of his own words

"Kante, in that sack is your destiny
Tonight you will follow me to the sacred groove
Where you will dance in the great circle
You will drink life from the pot of wisdom
You will see what the eagle cannot see from the cliff of the wind
You will know what only men should know"

Too many thoughts crossed my mind
Like never before, I was scared
Scared of the night, of the forest, of Bambili
I felt lost in a life I doubt if it's ever mine

"Are we going to hunt again?
It's three days to Sosa
When no one must walk the street at night
When banters of lovers are only done in whispers
Why the groove at an hour
Forbidden by the beginners of our race"

Fear pounded in my heart
Panic crept out of my mouth
For I know Bambili says only what he will do
And tonight, it was not an opinion
It was an order

I thought he expected me to just obey
But he continued anyway
And I saw sadness in his eyes
I heard fears in his voice
I knew whatever it was Bambili was hiding
It was bigger than him
He has a heart beating in harmony with his dead fathers

"My son, you know little of who you are
But tonight you will know better
Because this night you will become a man
If you must bear my name when I'm gone
If you must stand for the course of your people
You be initiated into manhood"

I looked at his furrowed eyes
A man whose heart is stiffen by too many war
Whose eyes had seen kings beg to be spared
Who had bathed in the blood of hundreds
Scattered on the plains of history

Then I remember that morning when we sat on a fallen tree
As the dew announced the birth of another day
It was a quiet dawn after a long fruitless hunt

He told me how he was initiated into adulthood
He had to cross nine hills with other boys
Because not even the mountains should stop a man of Tansa
He swim across Omiri river
Because no river can stop a determined soldier
He slept seven night in the groove
At the mercy of wild dogs and leopards
To learn that fear is a prison in the mind
Where all cowards live or die
He fired his first gun into the wild
A man should never turn the mouth of death to his people

But I could only think
Of nine hills, seven cold nights, the great Omiri river
I was so afraid that I wanted to run
Far from Bambili, far from tradition, far from Tansa
I wanted to run to where Amanda had gone
Hidden from the clutches of culture
From this trepidation in my spirit

"Kante, this is destiny
From which there is no running away
It is the fate you carry since birth
It is the blood that runs in your vein
You are my first and only son
You alone will wade the sword of Tansa when I'm gone
You are the defender of this land
Culture don't give you many choices
It only tells you how you should live
And those who chose to ignore this
Will father vagabonds forever alien to themselves
Beggars who will cloth themselves in the rags of strangers
Who will see themselves through the eyes of another
Who will be defined by those who wonder who they are"

"Will I climb the nine hills?
Swim through the great river?
Sleep seven nights in the dark dangerous wild
Hunted by beasts and death?

"Son, it is when you learn to stop asking too many questions
That you begin to understand who you are
Time has changed and the days like mine are gone
Like an antelope who escaped the trap of lions
After straying into the den of death
Those of us who knew these days
Cannot forgive the betrayal of times and seasons
May be it is our fate to be lost
Like the peacock who with good mind
Dances to display its beauty to the world
Only to end in the soup of its owner

During the days of King Adimba

Continue Reading tomorrow

Had a pretty busy day... Had to squeeze this out from my diary...

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Lost orphans

Under the trees we danced
Around blue made fires
With love and unity
Entertained with flutes and moonlight stories
Dropping from the toothless mouth of our elders
Accompanied with Wise words and warnings
That we may not be blown by the wind
Or drenched by the rain
.
Soon,we became orphans
Left with no breast to suck
Fathers and mothers lost in battle
Against unceasing slumber
We are alone like an island surrounded
By waters of civilization
.
Now we are lost ,lost in ignorance
Our hands,not strong enough
To hold firm the calabash
Given to us by our dead
Filled up with warnings and wise words
So we lost it!
.
Our hen is pregnant
But claims the goat is responsible
We lack fountain
But beg for water
Our barns are full with yams
But we gnash our teeth in hunger
We have golds
But cry for stones
Our eyes are open
Yet,blind to behold
As the beauty of our rainbow unfolds.

Balogun Tolulopez Ayodeji David
(Drunk poet)
ANA AAUA chapter
2017

Excerpts From the book I never wrote [Non-Fiction, usage of names are real]

Unlike other days, I had chosen to trek the long distance to use one of the lecture theaters in school for my evening class, the last semester examination had started some days ago, it has now become a culture for students to fill every available spots inside the campus. Traditional I am of the type that prefers to sit back at home to read during examination time, visiting the library only when my ever noisy neighbors chose to start their trade of annoying banters, of which i was a part of, so it's only fair for me to have my share of the disturbance, but I needed to study for my Greek examination the next morning.

Wole,my very close friend had volunteered to follow me to school for the evening study session, and I did not refused him, for it's very rare seeing him paying any serious attention to evening classes, for he would prefer to have his all night reading session, so I was glad I saved him from freezing himself out there in the cold at night for our lecture theaters was no save haven.
.

Due to the magnitude of the course, which I was to write the next day and the unavailability of electricity in the town, we had both opted to stay two extra hours reading inside the school, so we devoured every pages like an hungry lion, leaving none for others. When we realized that we had stayed far too long, we packed our books, laptops and phones, stuffing them into our bags as we left the school premises, hoping to get back to our hostel before 12 am.
.

Just as the wind bellowed calmly and the leaves dancing in harmony, the star were already finding their way beneath the clouds flanking the crescent shaped moon. We drifted with empty stomach, along the narrow path that led to our hostel, with only few houses in sight, for all that was around us was a thick bush, we were already smelling home, when we stumbled to the midst of a group of guys, and we need no guide to tell us that they were cultists, I thought of running away as fast as my legs could carry me, but then I thought of my bag, which was as heavy as a milestone and my friend wole, who was as short as a midget,besides it's too dark if me to run, for my glasses would do so little helping me navigate the turns. They surrounded surrounded us like little children surrounding the food seller's stall, and demanded that we tell if we were spies, we lacked the strengths to give a reply for instead of hearing their shouts at us, we heard our stomachs crying for food, and our body demanding for warmth. Wole was no where to be found for his shortness made him invincible, their mouth smelt of alcohol and i knew it's pointless arguing with them, expecting the worse, just as a slap was about to find a waiting abode on the terrace of my face, one of them screamed, "leave them alone, seems I know this one in glasses", pointing to my shirt which had "nifes"printed on it. He told the rest of his gang that we used to attend classes together, which left me baffled, for I couldn't seem to place him.

And like a freed bird I walked calmly away from them, while wole was already miles ahead, thanking my stars, wole broke the silence, "MARCUS! So that guy think he could slap you right? "
.

I looked at him, lost of words, and I thought deep within, if he had slapped me, what would you have done midget?
We continued our journey, with me promising myself never to stay that late in school again.

.
IG- Oluwamarc
Amudipe Marcus

Doh Re Mi

Twelve notes travel on the rail
Headed towards West Africa
Then three fell on the hide of an animal
Beautifully crafted for the kings

The man whose feet became sore
Saw and felt a vibe that shoed his leg
The woman whose hopes have been dashed
By the pestle of cruelty and mortar of a vague mole
Rolled downwards only to find that the
Light was never gone; the luminous
Beats of bàtá carried them on their backs
To her, hope is restored

That child whose gums would never rest
That child whose teeth were never whole
That child whose words will soon shape
Sang to the tune hewn by the rhythm of gángan–the song of an innocent smile

Twelve notes indeed travel on the rail
Headed towards our shores
Then three fell on the hides
Our mind, soul, feet and body are
Yet to fully understand what makes
It bend, twist and swing the hands
With a reckless abandon
Whenever the drums speak
The words: Doh, re, mi

©Melson

Idylls of Love___Part 8: (Are these not the Signs of Time)

You were the one I saw on the other side
Walking away from home
Pressing into the depth of the unknown
I called but you didn't answer
I scream but you didn't hear
Your gaze was fixed on the road
Walking as far as your legs can carry you
Your hungry legs devouring the road in angry desperation
You don't even look back at the world you're left behind

How do you cross the great Omiri river
Which is the only wall fencing the great Tansa land
No bridge, no boat and her banks are wide apart
Too deep too large to swim across

I stood bewildered
Watching as you fade into nothing

I collapsed into the pool of my own tears
Weeping my sadness into the flowing river
Hoping Omiri herself will reach out her hands of compassion
But explanation not console is what I need

Amanda, where do you go in such a hurry
That you forget to leave a world behind
For those who cared about you
That you refuse to answer your name

I sat on a rock at the bank of Omiri
Drenching my brow with a stream of sorrow
My heart drown in pain

Then a strong voice came out of no where
Startling me out of sleep
It was mama calling me to take out the calabashes
An heavy rain had started

So it was just a dream
Which manoeuvred out my loneliness
As I lay on my mat thinking of you last night
And I wish your going to the city too was a dream

It rained all night
Thunder and lightening kept beating the plate of the sky
Reminding me of judgement and justice
The wicked will quiver at its roarings
The children will shiver as it noising flashes in the thick dark clouds
The wise will lay quietly with questions unanswered
What kind of rain is this?

After the last cock crow
And the morning flaunt its splendour on humanity
Omiri, the river cutting through many farms
Is overfed with the rain that fell overnight
Its banks can hold no more
So she stretched her territory beyond her natural boarders
To the road impeding those going to their farms

Even the great Ogoy tree
The one rumoured to be the house of malevolent spirits
Had fallen into Koye's farm
The thunders had dug out its root
As if its searching for the secret of its power
Yanking out its foundation out of frustration
Like a fruitless thief with no treasure to loot
As if challenging the certainty of his fame

The rain continued to drizzle in the morning
Many worried if the annual 14days rain had begun
The last days before the next month
The days that clears the busy path
For Sasa festival to have a safe entry

We will be trapped in our homes
Eating roasted yams with palm oil
Beast will freely walk the forest without the fear of the hunter
Birds will boast with pride without the fear of the falconer
Fishes will bath in their home without the intruding hook and line
The days of weird peace and silence

But I wondered if these were not signs
Which marked your departure
If heaven had not sent her own tears
To accompany mine as it sink into the womb of the earth
If these were not pointers to a new phase of dryness and loneliness

To be Continued Tomorrow

Make sure you read other parts... In fact, you can't understand part 8 if you didn't read part seven

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Idylls of Love ___Part 7: (Called You at the River but You Did Not Answer)

That day you left
Night crawled slowly out of its cave
Casting its wings of darkness on the world
Invoking the wickedness enshrined in humanity
But the elegance of the full moon
Gracing the glades of heaven
Brought life and light to us
And I wondered if that same moon
Was a guild to your feet
Heralding you into that distant realm
As you find your way in the labyrinth of time

As I lay quietly on my mat
The noise of gay children knocked at my door
The fantasies of childhood parried through my window
Bidding me to join in the evening dance
I know by now
They will cluster around the feet of the elders
To hear the tales of how the world began
The markers of our own identity
The mystery behind the formation of our race
The legendary of the bygone days
The pride and the taboos of our people
Why the tortoise had a broken back

Like mama once told me
Never stay by the road when the cloud gathers
Never eat at the doorway
A pregnant woman should not visit the stream under a hot sun
Because the denizens of yonder realm roam the universe at noon
This is the wisdom that the night brings to us

But that night when you left for the city
The world suddenly become a strange place
Even the company of others frightens me
The earth is unappealing without you

Yam tasted bitter in my mouth
This is not just loneliness
It is a funeral in my heart
Mourning your absence
And for some weird reasons
I wondered if you were save
If the city cast roses around your feet
Welcoming you with open arms
If you will one day return home
I silently prayed for you for that is all I can

I was awake when the noise of the children died from the street
When each lamp and foot find its way back home
When neighbours greeted goodnight
When only the shrieking of weird birds
the howling of wild dogs
The noise of crickets
And the songs of frogs
Are the only intruders of a blissful time
Piercing the silence of the night
When mama placed a bar between the two irons fastened behind our door
The very last act of everyday
A symbol that the day is done

I didn't move or shake
I just lay in silence with a heavy heart flooded with too many thoughts
A heart bruised with several imaginations

Then suddenly, I found myself
Like a stray ghost
Wandering in strange forest
Searching through the layers of dark trees

Then I saw you walking down the path that leads to the stream
With a determined gait
Like a wayfarer on a journey of no return

I called you but you didn't answer
You didn't even turn to see who knows your name in the darkness
I hurried after you
But you vanished into thin air
Yet I followed your trail towards the great river
For that where the aura of your presence bids me

At the great river
You were already at the other side
Still walking farther and farther from home
Pressing into the heart of the unknown
The gloom of a starless sky will not frighten you
The death hidden in the wood will not discourage you

The little smiling moon of the night
Tells me of your fading presence
I knew it was you walking away
Amanda it was you walking through this darkness
The beads around your waist betrays you
Your carriage reveals who you are

To be Continued Tomorrow

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