oluwatimilehin-adejumobi-alabi
I am a cool, amiable, vivacious and hilarious person. / / I do the public speaking thing, and I'm called an orator. / / Also, I'm a press man and a prolific English editor, and a creative writer of some published and unpublished romantic poems, plays and short stories. / / Although very busy, I like making friends with people. / / I am one of JEHOVAH'S WITNESSES, and my beliefs are quite selective. So don't get vexed over my attitudes towards some celebrations. / / Call +2347030837047
Who’ll hear, a bitter tale for the tails
About the two drummers who are set,
To beat their palms upon the drum,
To free a sound their hands can’t catch,
And to struggle that the horn be split?
The sound’s a dirge filled with grieve
That all ears shall hear when it flies.
But many will take it for a true dance;
They will dance and spill their bloods,
And mix it with the naïve thirsty sand
Often hungry not tired of looking dry.
They’ll dance to dazzle the drummers
Who have fled the drum into cozy hides,
Who have made the dancers their ears,
Who deafened their ears from the voices
Of both the dancers and their own beat.
They will dance to dazzle the drummers,
And sweat and cry more tears of fuel
As drops upon a soft blazing inferno.
They will dance till the sound is dead,
When they’ve grown weak and numb,
At the sight of the arsons and the piles,
Of bodies and parts, waiting to be kept
In the belly of the gargantuan ground,
By the drummers who are now priest
Who’ll say: “weep not, for they’ve R.I.P.”
But they still won’t stop crying alone
At seeing black yesterday jump into today,
Holding pity pictures of dancers after action
To pinch their minds and cause real-weeps;
Asking them why they all had to dance
Even when they didn’t bang the drum.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 4:11 AM UTC
Oh yes! The sun shall rise,
When the morning crow breaks a dawn
And brace our feet and fill our hands
To drag our bags and walk our talks.
Oh yes! The sun shall shine,
When it billion rays cause us tears
And melts our flesh and salt our sweats
To make us an anthem and pledge.
Oh yes! The sun shall set,
When it's Half and Yellow in the sky
And the shouts of joy takes the air
To let us hug our new home.
Oluwatimilehin Adejumobi Alabi
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
I miss the place of the rising sun;
For nothing makes my hair stand here.
No one to sing me my very ‘oriki,’
Nor the slightest ‘se dada loji?’
I miss the place of the ‘gangan’ beats;
For no meals shakes my tongue here.
No one to make me ‘efo oni kpomo’ with ‘iru,’
Nor the slightest ‘garri’ of ‘ijebu.’
I miss the place of the ‘aso ofi;’
For no clothes touches my sight here.
No one to tap me that very ‘emu oguro,’
Nor the slightest good-sauced ‘eja odo.’
For if not for the clarion call,
Oh! let ‘egbe’ come take me home,
With the real speed of ‘monomono.’
Oluwatmilehin Adejumobi Alabi
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 6:03 PM UTC
Alas! At the dawn time,
Pinky sees Doe and Buck,
Stiff on a gummy fold’ble pad:
And each roll to 'scape each made,
Stripped their skin so callous.
Shortly, a bigger mice arrived,
Not nosy, taily and clawly,
Threaded fearsomely and made’way
Dear Doe and Buck for life.
(Flashback)
Pinky: Oh Precious Father
Why oust you and Doe alone,
Long during dusk decend,
Yet make us hide astaya’day?
Buck: Curious and cutie Pinky,
The world a’day; nice and bright,
Is but an awaiting dreary ambush.
And a’night: a bit dreary ambush.
Doe and I: nosy, taily and clawly,
Will make something in your belly stay.
Pinky: Oh! Precious Mother,
I’m nosy, taily and clawly.
I can raid with you a’night,
And swift through ambush a’day.
Doe: Anxious and eager Pinky,
A full fall from far a sky,
Is as the voyage a’day.
And a breath once expelled
Is as the raid at night.
You WILL a’day get crashed,
And MAY a’night **** breath expelled.
Buck: Curious and Anxious Pinky,
The raid a’day and a’night,
Is as the sides of fate coin:
A home-hole return, Or a home-hole no return.
Ding **** Oh Pinky,
It’s time for our raid.
More shall I learn you,
If my side is home-hole return.
(Off Flashback)
Then whispered and cowered the other Watching mice:“The coin’s ‘no home-hole return."
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 5:06 PM UTC
The task I pay for change
With my thumbs I make my choice.
My very own choice without coercion
Oh! Hear me, my dearly pay for change.
The balance in my diet has flown.
See me and how I have become.
The 2nd to none to Iya oni Jedi
Since the constant change I chose,
Is nothing but inconsistent starch.
Tearful, I gaze at the Umbrella man.
And he mused:"Tunde!,
The task you paid for change"
My fresh fair skin has flown,
Replaced with spots as guinea fowl
Upon my flesh the night beast fed
For in darkness, my fair body lay
In night and day, no power
For my blade to blow away the beast
Ha! Bitter tablet becomes my mint.
Again he mused:"Emeka!,
The task you paid for change"
In abundance of what we own,
I drove to fuel, and got stuck.
Early at dawn under crescent sky,
My car, the endless queue has snatched
Alas! I now seek water and grass.
My keys unlost, but horse I ride
Since I starve in what abound.
Again he said: "Danladi!,
The task you pay for change"
Poet: Oluwatimilehin Adejumobi Alabi
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
At the hours the night breaks into dawn,
And the white sky flexes his blue agile muscle
For the shining sun's golden ray to rest on lawn,
And the birds, her wings, to spread and tussle.
I too had forlorn my warm cozy blanket and bed,
To rove the hard market's nook and cranny stores
With just a few innate coin my young palm held,
Enchanted by some bulky goodies therein the malls.
I strolled up and below as an o'clock pendulum,
And aimless as the flexy bead of a lassie's waist.
I saw my pine goodies stoop over my small sum
And all my sums like stew but no tongue to taste.
So this film went on and on like the flowing stream
Till the once bright-young day sank dark and dim
Poet: Oluwatimilehin Adejumobi Alabi
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
My eyes are of the hills, I see what it is;
When the night guards lost their ways,
And the ball of the hunter whistle is miss.
Ha! I see from the hills what ahead lays.
My eyes are of the witch, I see what is deep;
When the shepherd misplaces his rod,
And to be the lord are the lot of his sheep.
Ha! I See all duel over who to be the lord.
My eyes are of the wise, I see with my mind;
When the chief's pant is turn underneath,
And his child point and laugh at his find.
Ha! I see the shame the visitor see both with.
Oh! I see, when we crack our egg with stone,
Alas! And we have nothing left to call our own.
#Indeed, I see it from the end#
POET: OLUWATIMILEHIN ADEJUMOBI ALABI
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
In the face of the rainbow shawl
Where the sun's shone like the sky
And my skin grows black and dull
Like an aged's hair: hued with dye
In the midst of our three worlds
Where trends, silver-gold drives mind
And urge for fun,ford flows in bloods
Like baby, a witch, powerful has bind
Still, I will rove all the thirty-six corners
In my kaftan under the scorching sun
Sweating stream like a Kenyan runner
Pushing my sells, on a metal in the sun
Selling my onions,pepper and cheap grains
Cool with my job, hard, without much gains
POET Oluwatimilehin Adejumobi Alabi
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC
In the moonlit evening so cold,
When the breeze hold like bites.
Mine, come out and be so bold,
To salvage me and clinch'n me tight.
When my pink lips freeze and quiver,
And dry of thirst of your grease.
Mine, cuddle me and make me not shiver,
Wet my lips with your tasteless juice.
When I'm lone on a bed hard strong,
And my voice is cold dry and lost.
Mine,be my pillow and sing me a song,
Till, I lost my senses in your lust.
And I sow a breathing seed on'y soil
Against some months of matrimony toil
(A poem dedicated to married couples)
POET: OLUWATIMILEHIN A. ALABI
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
I feel what the snubbed boy feels
When his name has been cast-listed
In the theatre stage by two's fun
And he has to make his errand in loo
I feel what the snubbed girl feels
When her hope is raised by a call
From the land which doesn't exit
And she yes the beckon to death pills
I feel what the snubbed twins feel
As they taste life's honey in warm world
And hear melodious wave outside world
But yet won't join in the outer world.
I feel what the snubbed two feel
When they first enjoyed a cozy life
And they were later dumped to cold
In a basket with one bottle of food
For they bear first hand of judas kiss
As they hear the thwart plans from in
And are helpless about what to do
For their cries and sorrows goes unheard
Indeed, I feel what the snubbed all feel
POET: OLUWATIMILEHIN A. ALABI
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 10:14 PM UTC