Sometimes I beat myself up in your glory,
And sometimes my tears flow like river Nile in your honor.
Your wonders on me are misery and dolor,
And starting over is your judgment.

I know failure is a tool in your hands,
And pain is your mercy.
You are a warlock, who conquers hearts and lands
A general you are, that breaks one in pieces.

You are a pause in success,
And disappointment is your surname.
A predator that preys on even lions,
And auguish is your mercy.

But I know you a soldier that matches me on
Keeps me alive to push harder and harder,
Makes me go further and further,
To struggle, until success is my slave.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}

I know of a mysterious being,
Dressed in suits, but bestowed with ancient voices.
I know of a magician,
A supernatural astounder, who performs in hearts of men.
.
I know of a trickster,
Whose tricks surpass that of tortoise in folklores
And whose dark long hat is made with anguish.
I know of a sorcerer, who performs in hearts of men.
.
He, who gives without notifying hesitation,
Comes to take with without invitation .
I know of a wizard, giver of caps but taker of heads
And he lives in hearts of men .
.
Of a riddler I know,
Whose riddles creates chaos in minds of scholars.
I know of a man, who visited me not long ago,
A merchant of Venice looking for a land to sow.
On his hand lies arrow and bow
Ready to shoot into the dearest of hearts
Saying "am coming to you, to create my mark "
And he lives only in the shadows
.
Balogun David Tolulope
(Drunk poet)
©️2017

Screams, Sighings, groanings
I heard in whispers as it echoes in my soul
Fallen! We are, on the battlefield
Like an egg, smashed on a rocky surface
Our fate now decided by our foes
.
Cries I heard,
As the ****** of spears move through our hearts
Clattering of swords echoes, and vibrated off our arms
Waters I drank,
That flows from my eyes alongside with blood from my veins
Defeated we are! Captives we became.
.
Our women married off like harlots without bride prices
Our sons led off to be slaughtered like cows in the abattoir
Our gods disregarded like a king, naked in the market
.
We are defeated, but not defeated
For mothers will name their sons after us!
Men will bow and worship us like gods in temples!
Girls will scream our names when their lovers excite them
Wives  will sing our names when they gaze at their *** of Bush meats
For we are only defeated, not defeated.

.
Balogun David Tolulope
(drunk poet)
©️

Only through memories
.
It was not far before long
When our stares would meet all night long
Your little smiles I would see, when my lips
Sing you a beautiful song
.
It was really brief before far
Together at the right side of our sofa
Sharing dreams of being called Mama and Papa
And our love be of this dream's ladder
.
It was not far before now
When our love began to go down
Like a stormy rain that receives a peaceful
Calm
It went puff like the smoke of tobacco
From the tender balm of our palm
.
It won't be soon after a long while
When salty rain from my eyes will follow this Last line
I see you only through memories, as days begot day
And it comes and go like menstrual pain
.
Balogun David Tolulope
(Drunk poet)
©️2017

I have been caught by her beautiful beauty
Like a fish in the neck
My heart becomes a mortar and her eyes a pistol whenever I gaze around her neck.
Sister Mary's necklace
Whose ornament of trinket captured my timid eyes
Causing my lips to make soundless sighs of grasping twice
Whose ornament rolls in a valley subdued between two mountains
Or perhaps towers of grace
.
Forgive me father, if my description of her turn you on
Maybe I read too much of the songs of Solomon
Only heavens knows the treasures that lies in the
secret Place beneath her habit
Her  smiles I love, plus her caring habit
Her gentle gaze caused my mind to race
Into an unknown land I can not trace
Causing hands movement into the darkest of places
Even in the presence of solemn praises
.
Oh sister Mary, how can I describe your tender embrace?
Warmer than a cathigan made of fur
But too rapid like the space in between my pace
Your celestical dove on the chest I first admired,
When I was four and all I remember was that
My heart became dim and somehow blur
It caused my the meshing of our souls in circles
.
Sister Mary
Who makes me scream "holy Mary mother of our savior"
For the thought of her savors my tender sins
For her body I see, even I my dreams
For  here I am at the confessional,
Forgive me father  for it has been a day since my last confession
Yet, it feels like a century
.
Balogun David Tolulope+ anonymously anonymous
{drunk poet}
©️2017

Arise, O ye unworthy sons
Conceived in the belly of an harmless zebra
Raised by fathers of gutless mind
Who dug our Graves with golds
Gotten from their unquenching cravings for dusted
Fantasy of our shoveled dreams
.
They battled with the ones in white skin
"heroes" they were called, cause they fought
In one anchor
The sang of songs from the lips like birds
Defending their territory, lyriced freedom.
.
But the corpse of shame litters our gaze
The injured hearts with withered hope of greatness
Bleed our progress
So we weep  heavily in saddened outburst
Cause we failed and our blood has turned black
For we "unworthy sons" they begot
.
The black bird of woes cries in a desolate
Place
For even the bones mourn us for their odds
We are!
Of what now be their heroic deeds?
Of what scores now be their victory?
For we search apprecia-fun,
When our little knowledge is torn.
.
©️ Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
2017