LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN
By Adebayo Ogunleye ~ The GreatQuill🖋️
The beautiful land has been disfigured
By wars and rivers of blood.
The ill-made roads have swallowed
Far too many innocent lives.
The fragile edifices erected by careless hands
Have become dens of death for many.
Is our London Bridge not falling down?
The land of honey now bleeds
Bleeds a bitter and pungent stream.
The throne of kingship has become
A do-or-die affair,
Subsidizing truth
With beautifully crafted lies.
Is our London Bridge not falling down?
The homely home is no longer home
For those who dwell within it.
Seeking refuge in the lands of distant demi-gods,
Its children willingly embrace
A twenty-first-century form of self-made slavery.
Is our London Bridge not falling down?
The kinsmen have drained their land dry,
Like the flattened breast
Of a weary old woman.
The milk-rich soil has been milked barren—
One fat man hoards overflowing jars,
While ten hungry souls
Share a single teaspoon.
Is our London Bridge not falling down?
The water of the well is enough
For every hand that helped dig it.
Yet a privileged few arrive with giant drums,
Drawing more than enough
For their tenth generation.
And for the multitude,
They leave only a sieve
With which to fetch their share.
Has our London Bridge not fallen?
! London Bridge is falling down
And it mourns for more than wood and stone.
It mourns for justice abandoned,
For truth betrayed,
For a people rich in promise
Yet poor in reward.
!! London Bridge is falling down,
And beneath its crumbling arches
Stand you and I,
Witnesses to its fall.
12h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 6:53 PM UTC
STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
Adebayo Samuel Ogunleye ~The GreatQuill🖋️
When absolute power rests upon thy throne,
And I plead for mercy before thine eyes;
When I seek within thee the gift of freedom,
Yet the freedom thou grantest
I purchase with my own blood—
Alas,
I am struck with Stockholm Syndrome.
When thy offspring soar abroad for learning,
While mine sit among the underfed scholars;
When silver spoons tilt fortune in their favour,
And unequal fingers weigh heavily upon my affairs—
Alas,
I am struck with Stockholm Syndrome.
When my ransom is to remain thy subject,
And my submission fuels thy gratification;
When dues are paid in full,
Yet what is rightfully mine
Is given with one hand
And taken away with the other—
Alas,
Thou hast struck me
With thy Stockholm Syndrome.
For I remain loyal
To the very hand that restrains me,
Grateful for fragments,
While forgetting the feast that was mine by right.
Thus I bear the chains
I ought to break,
And call captivity
A privilege.
4d ago
May 31, 2026 at 7:09 AM UTC
THE UGLY PARADISE
Adebayo Samuel Ogunleye~ The GreatQuill🖋️
An ugly paradise thou art,
Where death is a regular visitor to mankind;
A paradise where sin becomes
Sweet juice to humanity.
A paradise where sickness
Is embraced as a compassionate friend;
A paradise where people live
In courageous fear of natural disasters.
A paradise where men sleep
With one eye ever open;
A paradise where the unclean
Are unjustly declared clean.
A paradise where speaking the truth
Leaves a bitter taste upon the tongue;
A paradise where you and I torment one another
Like cat and rodent in endless pursuit.
A paradise where suffering
Becomes the daily theatre of existence;
A paradise where justice
Is subsidized by injustice.
A paradise where truth is hidden
Beneath a blanket of darkness before the jury;
A paradise where empty promises
Flow freely from the lips of my kinsmen.
A paradise where the convicted are set free
By their convictors without a verdict.
Have I ever seen a paradise
As sweet as this?
I doubt it.
How fervently I wish
To see thee no more.
What an ugly paradise
You truly are.
5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 4:07 AM UTC
THE GREAT COUNTRY
Adebayo Samuel Ogunleye~ The GreatQuill🖋️
Silent I wished to remain,
But alas, my speakfire cried aloud:
“I shall speak and speak—
Speak of that great country,
That great country,
With oceans of wisdom,
Yet wandering the streets of futility.
Speak of that great country,
That great country
Flowing with honey;
Yet honey for only a few palates,
While bitterness lingers
Upon the lips of many.
Speak of that great country,
That great country
That gives so generously,
Yet lacks in abundance
The very things it gives away.
I sought to calm my speakfire,
But alas, it cried again,
Yearning to weep even more.
‘Speak on, speak on,’ I replied.
Speak of that great country,
That great country
That suffered under its conquerors,
And after their departure,
Became captive to self-conquerors.
Speak of that great country,
That great country,
Bearing “Giant” as its title,
Yet, unfortunately fortunate,
A title that scarcely fits
Its present condition.
Speak of that great country,
That great country
That gives you oromodiye,
Yet in return
Takes away odidi omo.
Speak of that great country,
That great country,
Which outwardly appears
Goodly bad,
And inwardly seems
Best at being worse.
Speak of that great country,
That great country,
Rich in countless treasures,
Yet wallowing in penury.
And so my speakfire speaks
Of that great country—
My great country.
*Oromodiye -- A chick
*Odidi omo -- (A child) Human.
E-mail= [email protected].
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
HOSTILE IS THAT WORLD
Adebayo Samuel Ogunleye- The GreatQuill🖋️
Hostile is that world,
Where the haves possess even more,
While the have-nots are left with less.
Hostile is that world,
Where the rich groan for abundance,
While the poor groan for mere survival.
Hostile is that world,
Where the bourgeoisie climb ever higher,
Using the proletariat as their stepping stones.
Hostile is that world,
Where a fortunate few are born
Not only with silver spoons,
But with spoons of gold,
While countless others arrive
With hands empty and undefined.
Hostile is that world,
Where humility remains with the lowly,
While pride and arrogance dwell among the exalted.
Hostile is that world,
Where I struggle through a rickety ground of learning,
Only to be reminded that
“All fingers are not equal”
When opportunity comes knocking.
Hostile is that world,
Where some are honoured as royal blood,
And others are branded as descendants of slaves,
Though blood remains blood.
Hostile is that world,
Where asegbe—injustice—
Finds refuge among the upper class,
Yet every offence of the poor
Meets swift punishment.
Hostile is that world,
Where those in power thirst for evil,
And their subjects dare not question
The deeds they commit.
Hostile is that world—
The very world you and I know,
The world in which we both dwell.
And so it seems,
Only God can contend with such a world
For you and for me.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
MY STREAM OF LIFE
Adebayo Samuel Ogunleye~ The GreatQuill🖋️
Beside this beautiful river I sat,
Its gentle, cooling breeze
A treasure cherished within my heart.
Like the flowing Yarra,
Constant is thy course,
And along thy banks
The emerald leaves flourish.
Upon thy surface,
Water bugs dance in delight,
While by thy side
The ***** leap with joy.
Narrow is the path thou takest,
Shallow the channel thou makest;
Yet within thy waters,
Little fingerlings rejoice in happiness.
Amazed was I
When I dipped my feet into thee,
For thy soothing touch
Brought calm to my soul.
Thy endless flow
Makes my heart glad,
And thy graceful meanders
Curve like the thigh of a fair maiden.
Bubbling, thou movest
With spontaneous radiance,
Yet the colour of thine eyes
I cannot truly tell.
But thou arrivest
With the lovely face of Katherine Gorge,
Majestic and serene.
And thus I call thee,
My Stream of Life.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC