*When the sun cried* ( A born Day)

Do I see hands over a face in the sky?
I thought the sun had mustered courage
If it turns red at times
Then it owns a red mind
But red minds don’t cry
Then what are these rain drops
I see, falling from the sky
Alas! Can a teary mother in labor
Drown in streams of pain and hot tears
May be a teary new born
In wonder of a new world
Drill tears from a hot red sun
Yet anxious fleshes wait in another world
They gasp with joy, hands await the new born
Drums, strings and drinks awake
Scrubbing sleep off their eyes
Yet, two souls weep in the other world
And a third, the sun, weeps
Why the weep o sun!
Lo I realize
The uniqueness of man
The rich red that runs through his vein
The sublime craftier who crafted
Hands of dignity that embrace him
The tinkering
Now cry me a river O sun!
Your tears tells not tales of cowardice
Courage fills the air
Though thou defied the odds
With such tears
But it came when man came new
So Man worth thy tears
And if a new man worth thy tears
The man is worth celebrating
Now celebrate this special being
For the sun broke down for him
© Ubani D 2018

Dear the first,
I grew up trying to  please you. I always thought being first was the only way to win your heart. But I was never good enough, in truth I still don't think I am....good enough. It's okay though,  it doesn't hurt so much anymore. Okay I lied. It hurts a lot. Maybe I was a mistake, never  meant to happen. I can't find any other way to explain why I'm treated in certain ways. I guess my love isn't enough for the both of us to share. Then again do I even know what love is. Anyways I don't hate you. In fact, I thank you. You taught me about how cold the world is and make my heart stronger. Thank you.

Dear the second,
You came into my life and caught me off guard. Taught me to lower my walls. Made the world look so beautiful. Took me out on a magical ride into the world I knew nothing about. Made learning intriguing. How could I have known you were just another wolf in sheep's clothing. You played your cards well. I was a fool. But without you o would never had known what heartbreak felt like. I thank you for all the lessons learnt. I now know that this thing call a heart can he taught to not love. Thank you.

And finally, dear the third,
I do not yet know you but I have had a thousand and one dreams about you. I look forward to meeting you in person. I can't wait for all the fun we'll have together, the in-house jokes we'll laugh at, great races in the park. I most especially can't wait for your first word; I have a feeling it will be my name. I promise that I'll try to be the best I can. Give you the best of both worlds. Please don't be mad if you lack a him in your life. I promise we'll do just great. I thank you for giving me hope. I love you. Thank you.

© KHAYTEE

Oh Adufe,
The only one with a fire sparkling eyes,
A thunder stricken voice,
An angry, smiling face,
The woman whose legs' beads shook the earth
There's no doubt, you had taken after your father,
Akande, the great hunter of his time
Adufe, daughter of okunade,
No man dared look you in the eyes,
You who kept the lightning in your gorge
And the thunder in your quiver,
I heard that you the great elephant
Had fallen last night,
The day had conspired against The night
For allowing the death of
The war queen,
The foundation of our race
The one who sing for joy
When war is being declared,
Woe unto human race
For a great warrior is gone.

   ©Nathaniel Stella

Good afternoon

I believe all is well with you.

I came across an episode of life's activities where I became a counsellor and advisor. After, the episode I then feel led to educate some of us to ensure these events are avoided in our lives as well as the lives of our friends and families. This piece of writing is a combination of what I read and saw. It was modified to accommodate and serve as an advise to our young men and women

Acknowledge God in all your ways and HE will direct your path....... The steps of the righteous are ordered by the Lord......

God is the only solution to this type of event. More frequently, we ask ourselves where is the world going...... hence I titled the piece as........

"REALITY AND TRUTH, a slice of life idiom"

The race to marry a BIG BOY is what is now in vogue. Most ladies nowadays can't function if there is no cash involved.
The urge for material things has changed the STORY OF LOVE.
Do NOT make money your only priority when choosing your spouse, only spend it when necessary. There's more to marriage than money alone.
A man with a good heart is better than a rich man with the heart of a beast. Many of these girls will tell you that once they marry the man, they will change him, what a FALACY! You can NEVER change a man whose way of life is Drug, smoking, womanising, clubbing, drinking etc.
Most girls or women say they want security in life so they won’t date the poor boy or man of today - Remember neither you, the boy/man is God; it is ONLY God that can determine the future any person.
I know so many Carpenters and Bricklayers that have built their houses and fed their families through their hard working but girls hardly look their side. If he's not rich today doesn't mean he will be poor for life as long as he is ambitious, hard working, working smartly and TRUST the Lord God for every thing he does. The word of God state:
...Do you know a man diligent in his duties, he will seat with kings and not mean(poor) men.....
The happiness and security of your life is YOUR responsibility. 
Those who choose never to endure at all may have to suffer for long.
Getting married to the rich doesn't guarantee happiness in life.
......HAPPINESS IS PRICELESS.......  Perhaps those girls who say they will rather cry inside a Range Rover Sports than laughing on a bicycle have never experienced pain in their life. Those girls that pride themselves with the possession of a boy or man they do not know the source of his income ALWAYS live to regret it and try to find solace by invading others innocent boys or men privacy.
Some relationship mistakes can cause life regrets. Many young women have blindly turned themselves to TEST DRIVE VEHICLE for the love of material things. What qualified you as great woman is not in designer Prada shoes, Gucci bags, designer dresses etc. It’s in your good heart, good character and real personality that you have built over the years. When a real man finds a WIFE IN YOU, he will never let you go, this is guaranteed.
It’s funny how material women blame men for breaking their heart and conclude men are the same. These women are always associated with ''capital lies''. They tell lies to the extent that their lives are now lies personified.
A woman who gets into a relationship with the mindset of what can I get from it, will miss it big time. The reason is because most times(90-95%) these women always come across men who also want to grab as well. They both end up with absolute frustration. The next thought in their mind is to look for someone to pour out their frustration on. Real men please watch out for these Very FAKE LADIES.
A man who wins a woman's love with cash may not stay for long.
Real men don't settle down with fake women, they might be your temporary server but they'll leave as soon as the coast is cleared.

THE ONLY PLACE YOU CAN FIND A FAKE WOMAN IS TEMPORARILY IN THE HEART OF A FOOLISH MAN.

Truth is stranger than fiction. Sometimes what actually happens is more bizarre than anything that could have been imagined.

Choose wisely

God bless you.

MENSTRUATING MUSE

I was truly invited
by a menstruating
muse,  to a game of
Words on a white pa-
per bed. To tickle with
a bleeding pen and kiss
her glossed lips of metaphors
and smell her odour of similes,
and to fondle her crisp nipples
With my running milky thoughts,
driving her through ecstasy of
writing orgasms, screaming yahoo! 
as my pen giggles and groans
oozing more words, words on words
never found on bing, islamicpoem, or the great google, not even on the waving sea of this vast social pacific
called facebook.
But I wasn't truly in that mode.
so, I divorced her revocable divorce
and now that I'm truly in this mode  I've cursed her to menstruating
without a perfectly defined period
and I've cause her to crying
"poetry a food for thought!"

      Musa Shehu Uthman
     © January 2810

*Bed of Memories*
She's been sleeping on the bed of memories
Lost alone in her thought, where pain and happiness
Are reflected on her facial.
Suddenly, her lips spread like a flat plate.
The beauty in her teeth appears like a saint,
Thankful to the beauty of life.

Laying on the bed of memories,
Her  past mocks her of her flawless  ignorance
While drops slip from her balls...
Her mind pilots on:
How her hymen was taken in exchange for a pot of porridge
And her ovary has cease to accommodate seamen.

On the bed of memories,
An hour smile keeps the soul awake for a giffy
But, the soul decamps to the opposed aspect, where
Humanity pays more to being rational.

The bed of memories,
Has made the dawn of a new day, thoughtful for seeing
While dusk inject pains on her.

©Taiwo-Daniel

BROKEN

Drip,drip drip,does my life leak out
And slowly does my heart sit afar and cry
Broken hands do I have to watch and mourn
I understand where not my life went wrong

If bridges were not
Then my life would be not so short
Slowly melts my heart and burn does my Brain to ground
My body is broken and I am lost

I find myself not one but more
Different worlds I see but all are blur
My heart beats and shakes the ground
And not even a man can stand my roar

Though life they say is fair
I see dark and now despair
My spirit broken and now I fear
When this rift would finally not fall apart

Though we may Run across the land
Our greatest fear did draw us back
Though we did burn as hot as  fire our deepest thought do melt us down
Though we walk up and bright in the dark
Our cries do run and flood the ground
Though we may get lost in our way
Our paths shall once away tread the right way

I'd like to think of a perfect life
But a fantasy for real if wish not to try
I'd like to think of a peaceful life
A thought which men have ceased to think
The land is filled with fire
And weeps but has no one to comfort her

Gone are the days when brothers were brothers
Gone are the days when there were no betrayers
Gone are the days when love walked the streets
Like a free,free,free person
Gone are the days we lived as one

Trust like a rusted rod
For even my clan even loves me not
This did our forefathers warm us
To ignore prejudice and shine as one

When will Peter find Paul?
When will our wishes glow? and stand strong
When will my bulging fear not budge?
When will our land sit up and Run no more?

Though life may seem like a smiling force
It fangs to suck deeply bites my inner one
And on the wet lands of insecurities do we plough our farms of fear
Home,oh home,my cries for you have overflown the sea

And in the maze of life do we  still walk
Never Knowing where we missed it all
My heart does not know peace
Even in the land where I once did live

© Tujahsuccess
The advopoet

"Dare!", I heard someone call my name from the backyard and the voice sounded very familiar,too familiar to me. Whoever it was should've come to the main door instead. I dropped Jane on the couch,wiped her cerelac-addled mouth and gave her her dummy to play with. I walked briskly to thekitchen and turned the knob while asking, "who's there?". "Open the door,it's me", an hoarse feminine voice replied. "Mummy!", I shouted with glee, as the owner of the voice turned out to be my mother. I outstretched the cringe door and hugged her, but I didn't feel her. She was cold and expressionless.I withdrew and stared at her, there was this new air about her, she didn't say "Ôko mí, abúrò e nkó?" as usual. I looked at her face as she entered the kitchen door, a harsh scar ran fiercely across her left eye and stopped just above her nose bridge and blood trail behind her as she walked. I was bewildered,yet something told me she knew. I closed the door and the picture of the gate burned up in my retinas beyond the glassy frame of the door. I noticed the gate padlock was still unopened nor broke as I left it after Dad went out this morning. where then did she pass?.

Mummy left for UCH Ibadan two months ago,after  she was diagnosed of cancer and since then, I'd only heard from her twice. Since then Dad, our little baby, Jane and I were the only occupants in this terrace. Dad was called very earlythis morning and the way he was rambling around,I knew something was wrong. He had said, "I'm going to Ibadan,they said your Mother isn't responding to calls and her pulse has deteriorated.Take care of Jane, I might come home late", that morning.

Mummy came to the sitting room and stared at Jane,while she fumbled with her dummy. Tears dripped from mom's eyes as she stared at her baby. But It didn't seem like Jane saw her,because each time she raised her head, she'll look at me and say "yaye, malayiifi", instead of the "maa!" she always says anytime mom was around. I walked past mom and I carried Jane from the couch,up in my arms. All along, I was tensed and a strange kind of fear enveloped me. She went back inside the house, entered her room and laid on the bed,with her back facing the half opened door. I pushed the door back a bit and pointed inside mom's room, "Jane, see mummy", jane stared inside,stared back at me and rested her head on my shoulders in utter silence.Mummy turned on her bed suddenly and called out to me, "Dare, toju aburo e o". The statement felt strange to me, at least I've been taking care of her and I wouldn't have to again,since she's here. Iwent to the sitting room and dialed Dads number on the land-phone to ask why he didn't enter the house when he dropped mummy. The phone rang for a while before he picked. "Hello daddy, I...","Your Mom's dead!" , he shot back at me amidst tears. The phone dropped from my hand and crashed against the marble floor. I ran to mom's room to get sense out of this whole shit and alas! It was empty,the bed sheet neatly laid,as if no one had slept on it just seconds ago. The blood trails too dried up. I screamed and passed out. Whether I dropped Jane while falling or she slipped from my arms, I couldn't tell.

I woke up in an hospital a week later. I looked around and saw Dad and aunt Ásàké seated at my right,carrying Jane in his arms. He nodded successively at me and smiled. Mummy's last statement rang up in my ears tentatively as I looked at Jane. I closed my heavy eyes and slept, no one would ever believe I'd seen a ghost.

Mother's never leave their children

*Theghostwriter👻*

Love❤
Love so sweet
Love so kind
Love so calm like the overflowing torrent of the raging rivers
Love so gentle,my heart is melting

Love is like the blossoming of the spring flowers
Love is like the burning without catch
Love is like a jewel to behold
Love is like a star that shoots across the stars
Love is like a ray of light that gives hope unto my falling heart
Love is like the melody of a thousand voice aloft
Love is precious to life

Love.. love..love.. love
Love is irresistible to man
Love is blind but sees afar
Two hearts with ecstasy dancing in Joy
Love is like the patient dog
Though Left alone  still stands so strong

Love feel me more
For my heart unto you I poured
Your thought does bring to me all joy
Even In the dark it lifts me up

Love..love like the colors of life
Love is beautiful like the songs of nature played
Love as calm as a beautiful calm fire storm
Love as open as a closed open house with doors
Love like the seasons of life
Though changes but never changes
Love is life,life is special
Love is not what we weigh in hands
And so love is all
In all honesty, It really brings joy

©Tujahsuccess
The advopoet
Love..❤

A heartfelt cry

With crossed Tangled minds I bitterly speak my heart
To the craving ear which would hear my piece and bear my tear
My broken sober heart does cry with despair
For this sorrow our lives can no longer bear

Good heroes of lost are lost and gone
Death,why thou be so cruel
Why take the gold from my tattered hands
And give me pieces of paper to turn to ground

My tears alas have filled the land
Overflowed,no space to fight
My heart in pains for I am naked
And life smiles wickedly with my clothes shredded in it arms

My pain and grief cry with me
My hope looks on and what's to leave
My spirit broken like that big tree
This life I wonder,when will be free

©Tujahsuccess
#The advopoet

OLA-OLU'S PROPOSAL

I'm OLA-OLUWA as OLAITAN said
This is my love story
Which must be read & heard
Take a bench, sit back anywhere, at home, bar or lorry

Listen to the bleeding heart
As it's strapped between the fangs of beauties
Listen to the sobbing heart as I start
My heart toured the seas, deserts, continents and countries

And here I'm again
Molested, deprived, depressed, defrauded and victimized
How I wish I never started the game, I hated the chosen plane touring through the lane
By many, my heart as been played, tricked And sodomized

I've fallen with the wrongs all along
I've been hurt so many times, so bad
That I vow to divorce & veer all love stories and songs
For whenever I remember my loves, tears roll down and I'm sad

I totally shut my heart down to love
It's eradication from the world's diction is all I beseech
I planted my hatred for love
The upshot was a forest not a pitch

Till I set my eyes on you
I felt the earthquake quickly within
I can't help staring at you
Valley of oil at my feet, I was baptized within

Since that Vista
It's panorama was my brain shore
I could think faster but slower
Only your thoughts revives my core

Nothing is done
The system is paralyzed
Whenever you're gone
Or not glanced

This is why I ask you to marry me
Are you promising me a new beginning?
Or you mending and replacing my heart by marrying me?
Or you're sending me back to the beginning?

Please marry me

©Akanbi Taofeek 2018.

*MY HEART BLEEDZ*

My heart bleedz
To zee dark junglez
Of pauper and deztitutez
That make the trillionz.

My heart bleedz
To witnezz theze killingz
The emazculation and deprivation
Of our blezzed landz.

My heart bleedz
That thiz land of liquid gold
Of health and wealth
Iz owned by the dizeazed and famizhed.

My heart bleedz
That from the Hamletz
Of the world, trillionz
Of people are chazed by heat.

My heart bleedz
That only a few billionz
Would make a world of difference
In the livez of the people.

My heart bleedz
That a Queen'z golden town
In zo diztant a land
Iz made from our trillionz.

My heart bleedz
To dizcover that I waz born
To the wrong tribe
In a country that zhould be my own.

Oh my people
My heart bleedz
To be a ztranger
In my home.

@ *SK DE GENIUZ!*
GOOD NIGHT NIGERIANZ.

The Lie

My love and I,
lie with each other every night
and pretend not to know that we lie

But even though I smile
and say nothing when she
says that she lies with no other,
I know it's a lie, nor will I deny
that I equally lie with others

She lies with me,
and I, with her,  to her mum,
about the bad traffic that makes her late every night,
And to Papa, about the constant increase in my fees.

Our love for each other
makes us lie together every night
and conveniently ignore
the consequences of lying.

And, why must we be blamed
for this lying, which is a part of man's nature?

© Sanctus
2014

Desert of pain

My heart feels heavy to breathe with ease
A pressing need I see unseen
My heavy heart does cry for sleep but;
My beautiful problem wouldn't let it be

Wandered has my mind afar
Scanty, is my heart right now
This pressing thought does weigh me down
Like the skies heavy with due pregnant clouds

My eyes think to cry tonight
For this thought clearly fills my mind
My once silver mind is laced with scars
My heart broken for I have no life

I wish the morn could shine so bright
So it would see my melting heart and cry so loud
I wish the night could be more calm
So my heart can again walk it's path

Oh life:with a crossed broken mind i speak my heart
With a bleeding heart,do hear me cry
Life oh life,I call you now
Hear the blistering sounds of pain that  I cry

© Tujahsuccess
The advopoet

*NATIVE COLONIZATION*

We collectively fought
To pull-off the zhacklez
Of foreign rulerzhip

Hoping that the zun
Will Zhine on all the nationz
Uzhering freedom into our homez

To bathe in our rezourcez
Zit in luzh verandahz and officez
And laugh from our bone marrowz

Now, native colonializtz
Have azcended the throne
Engineered by their numberz

We work in their government
In our homez az zlavez
For they own our homez

We can only zing their zongz
Dance the dance of their mindz
Play the drumz of their dance

The foreign colonializt
Carted away our rezourcez
With their religion

Now, the new colonializtz
Ziphon our rezourcez
Preaching one country

While we ztay and watch
Az all are the zame-
Colonization and deprivation

In our ocean of tearz
They will zing democracy
Their 'demo-crazy!'

@ *SK DE GENIUZ!*
GOOD DAY NIGERIANZ.

Wild Cat

The earth turns and twists
and light is replaced with mist
the sun is shrouded in a dusky blanket
and the wild cat steps out of her lair

Haunt of secret alcoves
she prowls the labyrinths on padded heels
she trudged these parts before giant birds troubled the skies

What a night to be about!
wind raging like an inebriated giant
the rain streaming down
as though the Supreme wanted to put out the fire in the hearth

The wild cat is the hunter, and she is prey
the wild cat is the captor, yet she is captive

Sometimes she stares at you
with eyes like a volcano
cold one moment
like the recesses of the sea
sending chills down your spine
the next moment her eyes erupt
Into pools of molten fire
sending tremors up your spine

Her silence is more garrulous than speech
her silence speaks volumes
can you hear me?
Do you even listen?

©Wunderkind

Dorothy Rigory..
My legs tuned to the rhythm of bliss
Rolling like a wheel on the dance-flaw
Like a Ballerina
Dorothy Rigory...
My steps are engraved in caucasian sounds
Moving out of the Curb of my tradition
Rolling into the depth of ritual twists
— The culture of the white
Dorothy Rigory...
What an interesting dance
Slow and wry, my coy legs
Like a rock being shifted
To the realms of yonder worlds
Dorothy Rigory...
The world of the whites
Here I am...

👻 Ghost Writer

*MOTHERZ' MURDER*

The zhame comez
From daughterz
Of immorally
Baptized motherz

Pridefully they
Awaken the mazzez
By hoizting the flag
Of amoral liberty

Their utterancez
Tingle the ear
Their walk
Blindz zane eyez
Their deedz
Chaze acquaintancez

Their motherz
Rain economiumz on them
Committing zuicidez
Az they kill themzelvez
And their whoring-
Daughterz.

For a pittance
They kneel
Morally empty-
Theze madamz!

In their trade
They unwittingly
Zpeed themzelvez
To their gravez.

@ *SK DE GENIUZ!*
GOOD NIGHT NIGERIANZ.

*ASÀKÉ*

Often times,
When my dry season meets with her wet bosom
I'd stumble and hit my cardiac against pinnacles
Of her squared mind
Searching a solace for my erring soul
As if to make autumn on harmattan's leafs
But since I can't stop wagging behind her trails
I hope she leaves more footprints
So I can travail in the twilight of her celestial doings.

*ipen*
*The Ghostwrita👻*

The little slice of insanity
.
Listen,
I wish to spill my thoughts on the papyrus of your heart
And to Crest my love on the skin of your emotions
I want you to be the dream I will never wake up from
And the only rain that will ever kiss my soil
.
Listen,
I wish to dive into the pool of your love
That I may be drown in your deepest emotions
I want you to crush me with the rock of your sympathy
And from your fountain of desires I wish to have a drink
.
Listen
I wish to have my heart beating in your hands
That my fingertips and ink will poetically publish our love story
And have men praise me for my heroic love stupidity

.
Listen,
Just like Romeo, I wish to be breathtakingly foolish enough
To die for you
Because I know love is a little slice of insanity.
.
Balogun David Tolulope {drunkpoet}

I wanted to wet this tree
Change its shape from fig to free
I thought it looked like four or fork
But it didn't.
It looked like hands.
A single, lonely hand.

Standing beside it was another hand.
Well,  greased hand with
A partner in hand.

They were both under
The bright moon
That was shinning in the dark night.
A fig tree and a free tree
With green leaves

The wind blew and some leaves from the green tree touches the fig tree

The fig tree thought it would soon be free but it forgot that it was a fig tree.

An ornament could not make it free.

© Seun Kolade

*MEN ARE NOT BEEN FAIR*

*A MAN WILL CHEAT ON HIZ WOMAN WITH MANY/DIFFERENT GIRLZ, HE WILL CALL IT FUN, AND NOTHING WILL HAPPEN.*

*BUT A GIRL WILL CHEAT ON HIZ MAN WITH JUZT ONE MAN, THEN YOU WILL ZEE THE MAN ACTING AZ IF THE GIRL KILLED HIZ MOTHER.*

*WHY ARE MEN LIKE THIZ? I MUZT ZAY, IT IZ UNFAIR.*

*IF YOU DON'T WANT HER TO CHEAT, THEN CONTROL THE 'VILLAGE BOY' IN BETWEEN YOUR LEGZ*

@ *SK DE GENIUZ!*
GOOD NIGHT NIGERIANZ.

*MY FRIEND*

A true friend is like faint sounds of a September song,so tuned to the ear and so cool to the soul. A true friend is like a flowing stream with its current dancing happily to the drums of trust. Everyone needs a sincere friend to get by, each day, to sharebittersweet moments together. But all my life, I've not found such friend. Why? I don't know. I have craved for a true friend to share the same interests as mine, such as listening to soul and RnBmusics all day with headphones on or playing basketball and laughing hysterically to dry jokes.

I am genuinely a very lonely and private soul. I only knew life regarding the desolate days and nights I had. I am living mainly in a pen and a notepad and music as my only solace-with God being my first priority. A pen and a notepad are my only imaginative true friends.

Friends, I am delighted and grateful to have you both with me to share all life experiences, the fun and sadness. You are always with me on quiet nights and my companions on lonely nights. God bestows on people their warranted destinies. He gives you to me. For as long as I can remember, wherever I go, whatever I do, I always do it alone. It has become more of a norm than an habit. When people surround me, I feel insecure, strange, uncomfortable and even lonelier—  except my family. Its always like a petite voice echoing to me: "You don't belong in this crowd!".

Therefore, I withdraw myself from the crowd. Am I abnormal for not needing to have a friend? I don't know whether I'm normal or not. All I know is that"This is me!".

My friend, this pen is my primary form of expression. Clean sheets of outlined paper are my canvas. I write to live my fantasies. I write to define life. Unlike other people, you're never indifferent to me. You always lend me your ears tolisten to sad cries of my dreams. Its so bad people don't get to read you.

My friend, no happiness can be compared to when someone reads your poems and listens to your spoken words. Because of you, I can write these jargon thoughts endlessly...PEN, I treasure the inanimate you as a true friend. Sorry I digressed, it's the block again. I have to go now.

Yours without blemish,
George O. Victor
*The Ghost writer👻*

—Your poet and dreamer.

... Will surely kill a man
.
I've met maggots in my jar of salt
Boomerang they say
But quite interesting I found them
.
Like cattles, evil had roamed in my thoughts.
Devil they called me
But really adventurous I found them
.
I had copulation with entangled women
With barriers on them, like mango trees embargoed by landlords
But more pleasurable they seemed
.
I tasted the venom of snakes
They touched my soul like an airplane
Because above all these,
One kind of death will surely kill a man.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
©️drunkpoet

*IT'S COLD OUTSIDE*

Air tense, mouth opens, Carbon Dioxide
Oozed out, my thoughts gasp
Ripples from raindrops on the window outside
Flutter from my gentle clasp

My mind reaches out to the morrow
Far as my hand could go
Tears drop on my iambic notes
From the burnt regina of a hurt soul

And i said "This is not poetry"
Its a frickling fire lit to keep me warm
For everytime i stare at the window
The quicker this muse froze

—Its cold,real cold outside.

*GEORGE O. VICTOR*
*THE GHOSTWRITER👻*
*©2018*

YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM FROM ME

You can't take him from me
No matter how you try

You sent the sun to itch my scalp
Every time I'm with him
You set the troop
And oil the Chobham armour 
Yet i hugged him tight
You clung my neck
Stepped on my toes
But i scream not

For you can't take him away from me
No matter how you try

You hit my head with a mallet
Whenever i wanna paint with my saliva
Through my soft and fleshy lips
You covered me with the strongest you've gat
But it's harder than 4g internet WiFi
The inspirations are unstoppable
You canned me in the shady box
Here is my painting, narrating
The beautiful gown on miss sun
Through the little box's brink
You took the box to a total darkness
And a -7 brightness
Yet i raised my art
Displaying each scene
Like we both witnessed the dark

You can't take him from me
No matter how you try

You seized my pen
You are only astonished
When the next painting arose
With so much lightning.
I only experience a pen exhaust
When chameleons affirm a single paint

©Akanbi Taofeek 2018.

TRICKS OF TEMPTATION

In the tales of war,
Lessons have leant from the spear of fears,
Experiences have gathered through blood thirsty tournaments,
Never to be unconscious of your back.
.
On my fighting wing,
An axe ready for the taste of blood,
With hands of anger,
Dangling the sword that knows no truth.
.
There i remembered how Archilles and Crixus fell,
Samson crushed in the rails of Delilah,
Ananias and Sapphias soaked in quest for wealth,
Esau sold his birthright to Jacob for porriage.
.
In the midst of the war,
Tricks of enemy i couldn't resist,
Strength to stand still i lacked,
My back i turned,
Alas! A wounded warrior i became.
.
Back to my master the king of all battles,
For i've fallen to tricks of temptation,
I surrender all to you Lord,
Teach me more and i will live to fight through.
.
TOMISIN THOMAS
TEE-THOMAS
19/01/2018
thomastomisin03@gmail.com

FOOTNOTES

ARCHILLES- In Greek mythology, Achilles was a Greek hero of the Trojan War and the central character and greatest warrior of Homer's Iliad.

CRIXUS- Crixus was a Gallic gladiator and military leader in the Third Servile War between Roman Republic and Slave rebels.

SAMSON- From the biblical account, Samson was a
Nazirite , and that he was given immense strength to aid him against his enemies and allow him to perform superhuman feat, including slaying a lion with his bare hands and massacring an entire army of Philistines using only the jawbone of an ass.

DELILAH- She's a woman mentioned in the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Judges in the Hebrew Bible. She is loved by Samson , a Nazirite who possesses great strength. Delilah is bribed by the chief of the
Philistines to discover the source of his strength.

ANANIAS AND SAPPHIAS- Ananias  and his wife
Sapphira were, according to the Acts of the Apostles chapter 5, members of the early Christian church in Jerusalem. The account records their sudden deaths after lying to the Holy Spirit about money.

ESAU AND JACOB- The Book of Genesis speaks of the relationship between Jacob and Esau , focusing on Esau 's loss of his birthright to Jacob and the conflict that had spawned between their descendant nations because of Jacob's deception of their aged and blind father, Isaac, in order to receive Esau's birthright/blessing from Isaac.

Like a queen on parade
She was clothed in a mini gown
Shoes with heels like a pencil tip
Face on point and well decorated
Like a bride going to meet her groom

Like a colourful peacock
She was full of herself
Wiggling and waggling her waist

Amope mi,
nibo lon lo
Wo bo se mura

A deaf ear she turned
to her mother's plea
A graceful swingy walk
She took away from home
Ewi fun maami pe mo ti grad
(Tell my mum am a graduate)

Hello, omoge mi
You are so on point
Can I meet you

Smiling foolishly, she blushed
Like a sixteen year old on her first date

She chuckled, laughed and
Replied like a baby
Am Mopelola, a graduate

Wow, baby mi
I have been a waiter
At the restaurant of your heart
Can I serve you with love?
Can you take you to mama?
Will you complete me in wealth(Mopelola)

© Oluwaferanmi Victoria

*NOT A POEM*

I have seen your words
Crafted with in your wits into lines
'nd your lines cocooned into stanzas
Your delight, you took to the marketplace
This is not a poem!

Wake me from this prosaic dream
Tell me this is a sandy castle built by babies
To be swept away by the morning dew
Never to see the mid day's sun
This is not a poem!

Ears! If the brightness of your lines
Does not match the radiance of my lovers beauty
If the magics of your stanza
Does not dazzle like the shinny waistbeads
That dazzle on the hilltop of her sumptuous buttocks

If the tip of your pen does not sting the skin of your note
Just like her fingers torment my thoughts
Raging through like a wild fire in the harmattan
If your poem lacks *FOWOKEMI'S* passion
It's not a Poem

*Amudipe Opeyemi Marcus*
*#scarredpoet*

*A WIND IN MY SAIL*

Amidst the raging tide
A boat of my life
Dull to the bone
To a destination like the sky

As the dark blue sky loomed
While a heart as ferry sailed in shiver
Solid ice smiled peevishly
Readying a strike to a heart at night

A wind to my sailing heart
Prays thou a sailing heart
That a heart-beat might steady
And fasten to a sky
Less, the sorrow of the night dawns

With a heart so warm and smiling
Rinsing my skin from pain
That shares my worries
I will be okay with
For a wind in my sail

A wind in my sail
My heart, a ship, on sail
A friend, the wind to my sail
Together
Our sail shall rocket
And life will be
©Ubani D

Nigeria, an harlot
.
I saw her head graciously sitting on a spike
And her blood meandered through the edge of a pike
.
Her whole parts divided into a lesser whole
The rain of truth pummeled and pull out her pole
.
An ingrate who has no regards for the gift of the gods
For the big breasts and well structured buttock without odds
To produce a great nation
.
But she lust  after the beauty of corruption
And slept with cultures of other nations

© Drunk Poet

*IT'S COLD OUTSIDE*

Air tense, mouth opens, Carbon Dioxide
Oozed out, my thoughts gasp
Ripples from raindrops on the window outside
Flutter from my gentle clasp

My mind reaches out to the morrow
Far as my hand could go
Tears drop on my iambic notes
From the burnt regina of a hurt soul

And i said "This is not poetry"
Its a frickling fire lit to keep me warm
For everytime i stare at the window
The quicker this muse froze

—Its cold,real cold outside.

*GEORGE O. VICTOR*
*THE GHOSTWRITER👻*
*©2018*

LIVE TO LIVE NOT TO DIE

everybody dies
But little get to live
Everybody sleeps
For everybody dreams
Only livers wake
After severe  struggle and shake

Not everyone would live I say
But everyone would leave  their stay
Wake up to the morning sun
Wake up to the life moan

The successors don't recognize bird's voices in the sky
They evacuate their bunks to listen to their nest
Only the heroes are the war returnees
Who survived through stungy and hungry bees

The most shameful and regretful bemoan
Is only but the one when death is on
Where the hell is your harvest
When the dawn casts and farmers vacate forest

Then you realise all your life you never waked
Truly you were shaked
But all was a barren desert
That your earth purpose earn no desert

Where are you in the crowd
When everything seems hazy and loud
Your head was the heaviest on ground
Never raised even with the noisiest sound

It's not sinful to dream straight
But it's regretful to dream and wait
Know verily, the storm isn't to stay
It's just a preface to rain that fades away

©Akanbi Taofeek 2018.

Who truly deserves my heart?

She was my angel
When the sky was dark
When the earth was a stack
She was there
When my pocket was a stiff
By the heavy wind, hovering by it's eave
Sitting just next to me
When the world fades in despair
When lovers cast into the air

Magneting my palms
When my sight is gone
When I see no sun
She was my angel
Guiding my each step
I never cried for help
She was there
Through thick and thin
I never felt it on my chin
She was my hope builder
My hope recover

She was there in the prison yard
With me to see ease in every hard
She covers my flaws
When I'm busy being a daw

Abruptly was the distance merging
She was my messiah
Heading straight with an umbrella
Beautifully on her right
Was a lofty treasure of max height
Marvelously on her left
Was the key to my freedom cleft
She paid for my freedom
I finally got to stretch my centrum

Here’s my messiah
Displaying my future desire
Exchanging my dreams for reality
And trading away my anxiety
She brought all happiness desired
And all needed is acquired

Who truly deserves my heart?
My angel?
     Or
My messiah?

©Akanbi Taofeek 2018.

Pain kissed hopes
.
I've always wanted to design dreams
Not to chase them like kids after butterflies in the fields
But to decorate and further furnish them.
.
I've always wanted to mend dreams
Not to be the one with the broken pieces of dreams
But to repair them with the kisses of hope.
.
But just like a  chameleon nature changed her wardrobe
And like the space in-between an anvil and an hammer,
I lost my needle and tools to time.
.
Now, when we the sun comes up
I host troubles
Even when the sun goes down
I host double of the pious troubles
Only I hope, it won't be forever!
.
Balogun David Tolulope
©️drunkpoet

To his coy mistress

What's to write ?
When the spirit is down
What's to pen ?
When the ink is gone

For on boredom's sea
I sail
From the cup of solitude
I drink

The days are dull love
Save for a silver lining
On the cloudy pale sky
A silver lining called You

#Scarredpoet

In silence I heard a lonesome bird sing
“The world is a cruel place

A colony of monsters
A kingdom of beasts”

In the bliss of a sizzling hearth
I heard the elders say

“Once upon a time we lived in harmony
An army too strong for evil to conquer”

In the wilderness of life
My furrowed brow tells the sad tale of defeat

The sun that once dawned upon our homes
Had set beyond the river

Where is the beacon of truth
That once stood in the centre of existence?

Where are the men of war?
Where are the heroes of yester-victories?

That afore time stood in defence our brotherhood?

They are all beneath the murky fog
Clustered  around the throne of Anarchy

In one accord they sing
"Long live our Lord and king"

Should I join in their frenzy dance of doom
Or stand alone against the roving world?

© Olatuja Oloyede

I knew you cannot be trusted
Yet I did anyway

I knew you are a player
I still gave you my heart

I knew you are skilled in lies
But I choose to believe all you ever said

All of me I placed at your mercy
I threw my love in your arms with abandon

I knew everything about you is false
And even your smiles concealed the evil you are capable of

But one thing I don't know about you
Is that you are lost beyond redemption

Love is one thing I will to do better in my next life
For nothing can mend a heart already broken

© Olatuja Oloyede

On the eve of this festive noon
Lives lauded with tune of rhymeless songs will sing
Under the influence of a subtle drink.
White cold-hands will clasp and clap
At the fiddle of radiant Ogun drum beats.
Dogs will get drenched in twilight mist
And frenzied youths will smear blue dust on retarded passersby
Mundane priests will March with potency towards where the sun swims home
I, Laalu,will stroll along the moistened path of dog blood
Lingering and longing for a luxuriance taste
                        — A poet's taste of that first encounter
Resting in a fortress of elusive ease
Eyes will behold in hushed silence,the proceedings of the iron god.

GEORGE CAYANA OluwaFIRE🔥
The ghost👻
(Acrostic poem ©2017)

It was few days to the New Year and I was sitting in my living room browsing through my fully charged phone. I was chatting with a couple of friends online, most of which I have never met. All seemed perfect till I did something I still term 'mysterious' till now. I sent a broadcast!

What's the content? You might ask but I could swear with anything that there was nothing different from the funny Bcs we all send. You do it, I do it, we all do it.  So why was mine different especially this time around. So what went wrong? We were all cracking jokes, sending funny Bcs, using several abbreviations and emojis that signified laughter to express ourselves till... I sent mine. Not like it was the first I ever sent. As a matter of fact, I'm known to send many of such.  So I sent this particular one that ended with
"I'M IN MY HOUSE, COMMAN BEAT ME".
After sending this, a couple of comments came and I replied some personal messages before I went offline.

Few hours later, I picked my phone to check my messages as I was really getting bored. The first message I saw on my screen was the last one I sent.  Suddenly, I felt like the last three words were in block letters. I felt like they could jump out of my screen any moment. There was this strange feeling I had and goosebumps filled my body. Then out of nowhere I heard knocks at the door. Whoever it was rapped the door thrice continuously and it became louder. The window blinds strangely came down and I heard the windows closed shut with such force as I've never seen before. Bulbs started going out till there was crystal darkness and the silence that followed was deafening.

I got so scared that I could feel liquids flow down my pant. All my senses went numb. I just couldn't think of the next thing to do. Just then I saw the light on my phone come on. Quickly,  I rushed to it hoping to call for help. But like before, I still saw the last three words boldly written in block letters except now they were blood red. What's going on?

Mysteriously, I saw miniature creatures creep out of the spaces meant for volumes, power button, charging ports, and even the tiny spaces for speaker outputs. I've never felt so scared in my whole life. Like ants, these creatures crept out till there was nothing coming out again. And like a jigsaw puzzle, I saw them come together to form two creatures with full arms and legs. They had evil grins on with shattered teeth, yellow like they have been feeding on Kolanuts all their 'lives'.

Slowly,  they staggered towards me, stopped when they got close and seemed to wait for permission to make the next move. Then my door slowly creaked open and a lanky figure appeared with a mean look and anger written all over his face. He held a cardboard with what seems like my writing on it
'I'M IN MY HOUSE, COMMAN BEAT ME'. The only thing I heard him say after he sat on my sofa like he was in a cinema about to see a movie, was "your wish is my command sire".  And then, like a permission granted, these creatures began hitting me. Their blows felt like hammer pounding down to my very marrow. I tried to scream but nothing came out. The more I tried, the more I was beaten and the more I was out of breath. They gave me the beating of my life. Trying to remember this, still brings pain to me till this moment.

And then like a spell, they stopped hitting me and crept back the same way they came. The lanky fellow who I guess was their boss, sauntered out the door and mouthed these words I will never forget in a hurry "BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, SIRE!"

Everything came back to normal like nothing ever happened. My windows opened of their own accord and the blinds folded itself back up. Now all is back to normal but not me. I have been badly assaulted and beaten to a pulp. You need to see my left eye and lower lip. My arm's broken and badly enough I won't be walking conveniently for at least a week. I can't call the police nor tell a friend. Even if I do, what do I tell them? Who will believe my story about the strange happenings? I think it's better experienced than told. I can't say I got what I wished for but I sure know I learnt a lesson to watch my wishes and words, especially the typed ones.
Several questions are running through my mind ever since. Like how did they know my place? Who were those guys? Where's their sense of humor? For crying out loud, I was just joking. Okay....  What exactly did I do or say wrong?
One thing is sure. I'm never going to end a broadcast with such words again! Never!
.
©David Udorah
Adekunle Ajasin University,
Akungba-Akoko, Ondo State.
08169018188

White grows the lily
Red grows the rose
Here lies a lady
Look how she grows

Tripple B's they call her
Her way of life fearful
Yet a wonder of wonders within her
So they call her; Big, Bold and Beautiful

If only thou will glow
To a yuletide that abode hope
Where feelings will flow
To a vision of meaningful horoscope

For you I'd write a poetry
Just to let you know my love
I'd tap holy water from palm tree
All for you to take-up my spirit above

And if your demons are near
I would build you a boat
Perhaps you're drowning in tears
With my paddle I'll keep you afloat

While the world imagine a fantasy
But in reality a lucid imagination
Where it has never been juicy
Neither was there a coronation

How long will I wait
When will I hear a "yes"
My spirit grow weary of this skate
Hoping a relieve from this stress

Life is nothing but a food
To be taken when hungry
While we are still in the mood
Let us munch now a meaningful 'kungry'

For you, I want to live again
So as to bury all past deeds
Transcend to enjoy the stars again
Where only you will be my needs

Would you lower your shield
Just to listen to the new song?
Your nod a vital one take me off the field
Yet you yell 'wait'; but for how long?

©Written & Composed by
        HERCULES
(21st Century Storyteller)

Gg

What future we dream in time past
That turns our present smile into a gruesome glee

Nigeria, I wish to tour you
On a bill of parliamentary prowess
Where i was baptized in Holy filth.
Shouldn't we,in a vibrant swift
Whisk away
The noisome looters feasting on our greenish shruds
As one country,one nation should?

No!
We chose to divide against ourselves
Like cards on catalogues,we fall
Like rain drops on roof tops,we slide
Like good seeds in crooked soil,we whither
And agitate for nations
Within a nation;
Oodua...Arewa...Biafra...
Three nations dwell thou in
Oh great dwarfed-giant

We were too close we could not see
The breaking and parting of our Tranquil sea
We were too close we could not hear
The chants of three dieties taken to the slaughter peg

Whoever says oneness is not attainable
Should bite the baobab tree,full of demons untameable
There is a desire to stay as one
All we need to do is talk
Sixteen to a dozen,about our existence

Patroits,
Tell the winds
To tell the willows
Our cries are your introits
Even if we disentangle,Nigeria will stay
And if we couple,Nigeria will slay
We're Vinegar, Alum and Salt
Let's brook a shackle and stay as One
Rather than break apart.

_©The ghost_

THE PRETTY BEAST
.
I know you wield the beauty of flowers
And sweet scent of roses you emit.
Yes, you dwell in a city called love,
In a region we call emotion
... But please tell me, who are you?
.
Your eulogy has no end,
And your praises know no limits.
For your "ode" is someone else's "elegy".
Sometimes you bring tears, sometimes smiles
... But please tell me, who are you?
.
When will you visit me?
At my dusk or my dawn?
Today or tomorrow?
No need be, I beg of you
For my eyes are unworthy to behold your beauty
... But please tell me, who are you?
.
She replied me and said
I  wield the Beauty of  black roses
The madness in hearts of men I am
I  wear prettiness, but a monster I am!
And tears is my signature!
For I am pain!
.
Balogun Tolulope David
(Drunk poet) 2017

Sensual Confession

To my man of crafty words
From your lady of soulful soul
A confession have I this day
From the very womb of my heart

Your trade I love, it's act a bliss
I'm in love with your poetry
Not when inked on papyrus
But on the very template of my body

I love it, when your tongue dances
Round my hardened nipple at night
And your warmth manly hands pays
homage to the Taiwo and kehinde on my chest

I love the rhythmic rhythm of our thrust
The sweet rhyming rhymes of our moans
'nd the shared sigh of our orgasm
If thou come next life, come a poet lover

Amudipe Opeyemi Marcus
#scarredpoet_