DEATH WE CALL NOT DEBT

Sounds from the rambling and mumbling
Of minds, to the outer fringes of life
With open hands we embrace grace
But we stumble in the race
We hit the hard side, but we won't  break
In joy we leap in the lake
The lake of the worlds

Bills fly's
Fortunes hoovers
Like a baby looking unto her mother
We stir and stare
But yet  fortune dews never fall
We dine with chicken feeds
That hardly feeds chickens

If fortunes avoid our path
Let death hoover like a bat
With open hands we will pat its back
But its counterpart draws it back
Death its you  we call not debt
We are bretherns, worldly not
Yet shall experience heavens wrath
Where do we go from here
Heaven or hell?

We are the brave traitor
The land that bred us, we desecrate
On the blade of our swords
Readily going for tour
not to heavens gate
But to the forgone part of the worlds
Because debt wish us death not

By
Lawson ayodeji Michael
19-07-18
19:00

GOOD MORNING. DEVIL

Your eyes you close oh saucy sun
You oceans our first sons are gone with you
The frith we called our abode
Its the patheon of the seven headed viper

The morning comes with tearful noise
Hands journeyed to north, and legs to south
Heads rolls from the cut of an invisible axe
Its the death of devoted worshippers

What path have we troden?
Who called our master an impotent?
Where is the entrance to the forgone shrine?

We are mortals
Who believes in our immortals
In Our finest robe we danced to their dirge
We have God but seeks gods
We have chosen this path, and forever we will be theirs

Esu bear us witness, we rejoiced when you descended
But in the ides of march
In your house we paid tributes
But here we are with tribulations
Today of all days
You sit with your neck to the sky
Staring at us, with palms on cheeks

Your chains we pulled
Our hearts is free of palm-oil
Give us peace we clamor
Your gold we want not
Give us joy, you decline
Though, you are not a god to serve everyday
But your praises we will sing all day
Good morning




Lawson ayodeji Michael
06-08-2018
13;00

DARK DAYS

If Only,
I could mute the tick of the clock
And give it's hands a moment of respite
I will go gaga in the joy of doing so

If only,
the craft can take me back
Back to the dark days
when skins compliments care
I will surely pay my
driver a million dollar

If only,
Those days could be my messenger
I will give it a job to
peep into its successors
A microscope I will get for it
Because I know
Tears of agony will run down it's cheeks
That it's tomorrow has made us fail it

If only,
The sun could standstill
And tomorrow refuse to come
We will be glad to be young forever

Surely,
they have gone into obscurity
Days that comes with joy
Have in your amorphous minds
That the souls in your tomorrow has failed you
But yet
They Awaits your return
In the second phase


By
LAWSON A MICHAEL
©2018

***** AND GOMORRAH

A perverted city
Whose occupants
Unseats the natural order
Wonderful city of mysteries
Where truth smells martyr
And falsehood wallow in legitimatecy

A *****
Where sodomites *******
Hookers bookers
We find solace in our deeds

Smokes from hose
Fills thé house
Yet we call on the lord of host
So in empyrean we might get a post

Skulls as Cups
Bloods as wines
Sacked bills
Paralysed our conscience
We never got to understand
The temporality of the temporal

Our city,
The euphoriant
Which makes the ticket of empyrean
Slipped away from our palms
In the temporal space
We will rest but not in peace
we are sodomites
Forever we will be

By
LAWSON À MICHAEL

A perverted city
Whose occupants
Unseats the natural order
Wonderful city of mysteries
Where truth smells martyr
And falsehood wallow in legitimatecy

A *****
Where sodomites *******
We found solace in our deeds
But the opportunity of the second phase eludes us

Skulls as Cups
Bloods as wines
Our existence grace dwindle
We never got to understand
The temporality of the temporal

Our city,
The euphoriant
Which makes the ticket of empyrean
Slipped away from our palms
In the temporal space
We will rest but not in peace
Because we are sodomites


By

Michael A Lawson

ADIEU TO A GOOD NAME

Diamond amidst stone
A deity in the patheon
Shinning star in the wide blue sky
Was my name before it demise
Farewell to it

It stood gallantly by me
From the very seconds
I stepped into an elusive world
We came together
But I was careless enough to let go of it

A good name is a god to midas
So also was mine
But the ****** of its existence
Rang it's bell the moment,i forgot my source
My tears ran to the ocean

The world a thief
Life a rogue
They stole the gold
A glitter they gave in return

It's letters ran into the furnace of doom
Embers it's has become
It's remains is gone
with the ferocious cyclone

Its a coin tossed into an ocean
Never shall it be found
It's a bomb blast victim
Never shall it's pieces be found
It's dead and gone to the seventh heavens
In obscurity it resides forever

I mourn a good name
I shed tears of a lost diamond
I will live to sing it's dirge all day
Farewell to a good name

By
LAWSON A MICHAEL

FANATIC

In liturgies,
He never missed the front pew
Paid rapt attention to every syllablic sound
he believed that was his sword
He was a combatant of christ

He kneeled at the slightest order
Pressed his lips hard to the cross
The wafer,was his daily bread
He never sat with the one that smokes
He thought , the commandments he broke
"He was a sinner", he said

He never gave to Cesar's
What's Cesar's
He never respected the temporal principles
Said "I'm of heaven".

It's time,he heard the clarion call
Amidst stream of tears
He was thrown into obscurity
He opened his eyes lids
At the gate of empyrean,he found himself
Here I am",he shouted
With confidence he banged on heaven's gate
But the gate keeper didn't relate
What's wrong?
Have they embarked on strike actions?
Is he deaf?

He asked the chauffeur behind the wheel
Am I not worthy of a compartment here?
But he doffed his crown
Saying, "We don't give rooms to dogmatist"

He sorted to see  empyrean authorities
To make his ordeals known
But he had no luxury of time
In the pit of fire
He burned to embers.

By
Ayodeji Michael LAWSON
©2018

DRUMMER BOY

With your sticks
You cook the beat of rationality
Your omele,a preacher
It's preaches sanity into an insane world
Obviously you are heavenly endowed

Tell sango,to come see
The sticks which heat Kindle his flames
The beats that lure him into dancing

Mysterious drummer
Even the deaf sway to your rhythm
The lane raise hands
To stop the quarrel between
Your sticks

You drummer of life
Play your beat
So I can tap the foot of my conscience
Hit your drums
For the dry bones to rise

sticks of rationality
Beats of sanity

Are what Eledumare
Has endowed you with
My village drummer boy.

#TheRadicalThespian __

LAWMYK
©2018

GENOCIDE
.
The Thunder stuck
Pillars got hurt
Dreams got blunt
Wishes ceased to come
.
The fire started
The house got burnt
The fire sang the lullaby
The flames danced to it, the steps of ballet
Suddenly, it changed
The skin of our aged wall
What is this again?
.
A strange boot broke the door latch
"Who is there?"we asked,
A dumb being answered
in a primitive language
"Who are you?"
This was my question
But hard knocks gave me answers
.
Bad thoughts ran into my skull
But I ward them off with a slap
"It's not my turn"I said,
.
Spirits dying
Hands trembled
Words remained unvoiced
Actions ceased to be done
Leaves remained impotent
Strong men hid under their women
At the sight of  the beings
Who are not humans
They are around
Those two legged rodents
Who disturbs our farms
with their four legged wards
Those who defiled
Our old lady
Sons of Eli
The Elder brother driving the nay-tion's truck
The younger one planting nails on its routes
.
They have traded
their one plank flocking bridge
With the American deadly sticks
They let out a boom
On an innocent soul
He raised a hand as if to bless
He immediately dropped it violently
and let his eyes  Opened
The man died!
.
The earth refused to accommodate us
It protest
When the diggers kisses it
We wept
Our tears flows to the stream
And it rejects them swiftly
And the dirge turns to our anthem
Our ancestors clasp their hands
And watch us die
.
Lo!
A major fragment of the globe is dying
They just committed a genocide
.
By
Ayodeji Lawson lawmyk
.©2018

PREACHER MAN

What  use is of a sound?
Which fails to marry the dancer step
What good is of a song
Which does not appeal to the ear
What good is a sermon
Which does not remind man of empyrean

A singer is as good as his song
A preacher is as good as his sermon
But what good use is both him and his handwork
When they are egregious
With no iota of morality

Sermon that is mendacious
Therefore, preach me no more your sermon of insanity
Because when you preach it
I see lugubrious faces of men of my race
Because when you preach it
I see deluge of blood of slaughtered men of my nation
Because when you preach it
I hear the wailing of the native of the street

Preach me not the sermon of democracy
Also when you ring the gingle of your sermon into my hearing
The death of justice and truth
Rings in chambers of my mind

Preach me not the sermon of democracy
When it is kakistocracy
Preach me not the sermon of bravery
When they are never seen

Preacher man
Preach me not your sermon
Until it is innoxious

By
Ayodeji Lawson lawmyk
©2018

THE SEED OF TALENT

.The mustard seed
Fell on the thorny part
It found it death

.The winter marƙed its funeral
The summer
markeɗ it resurrection
Now green has becomes it hue

.The amorphous unrefined pebble
Has wiggled leisurely
To the workroom of the goldsmith
He has made
the iron passed it's aggression on it
And it ***** ***** has turned golden

.The one quarter of the talent
Has found its way
to the care of a productive servant
Riches has he made from a little talent


.Green has it becomes
The mustard seed of talent
Golden has it become
The amorphous pebble Of divine gift
Riches has he made
From the little talent

By
Ayodeji Lawson lawmyk
©2018

It's Cold out here
In the snowed Street
Dead silence it's voice
Lighten with the pale yellow moon
Tossing around like a restless coin

The cyclone festive moment is here
Let it wiggle to the rhythm of jolification
As it make's the iced stones hover
like western birds Searching for prey

The sky let out a screechy cry
Tears runs down it's face
Which turned the land into a quagmire
It's Cold out here
Like the hallway of a dog's nostrils
It's Cold out here
Let no man dance unclad


By
Ayodeji Lawson LAWMYK
©2018

Man of no race
Beast of no forest
Animal of no species

In the middle of the day
Serves as man's saviour
Always dotting,nursing man's wound
But at the darkess hour
As vampires , ******* on man's blood
Is that your appetizer?

Man rest for him not to die
Only for him to wake up and see...
Blood...A deluge of blood
Flowing beneath him
And this marks his journey to the great beyond
                
Beast of no nation
Man of no birth
Turns the nation into a bogaboo
Streets flowing with blood not waters
The earth dance in agony
Whenever the digger hits it
It is the entry of another innocent soul

Pots filled with man flesh
Hands as breakfast, feet's as lunch,
Dinner Comes with blood
Coffin as dinning table
Is that what you need to quench your hunger?

Man of no race
Beast of no forest
Animal of no species
Homeless beast

By
Ayodeji Lawson LAWMYK
©2018

.
The defunct imprison in obscurity
Never to witness illumination again
It's gone forever

.
The soil's frith
Was dead
Burned, turned to embers
It's remains flew to the borderline
It's soul sent to the 6th heavens
Never to show face again
It's gone forever

.
The frith is an inmate of a Frith
In the abode of the mentally deranged
They fiddle with it all day
It yearn for no return

.
The Frith
Is a coin thrown in the ocean
Never shall it be found again

.
#TheRadicalThespian

LAWMYK
©2018

My eyes have seen mysteries
Of two legged goats and dogs
Donning ironed and fitted suits
My ears have heard words
That are harmful to them
Of an impotent father
Who sired a son, on his death bed

I have seen a man
Who claims to celibate
But at dark hours rushes to a motel
I have seen him
Standing on the alter in liturgies
With blazers as shirt
Divination bead as jewelry

I have seen a hierophant
within the shortest period of 9 months
Plants a bomb in a younger generation womb
I have heard him after his ferocious deeds
Calling the devil an artisan
Saying "its the devil's hand work"
He also call a saviour
Which is strange to him but known to us

Should we taunt him?
Should we thrash him?
Not yet let's wait till amagedon..

The man on the alter Has no piety
He is the mephistophelean type
Tell him he has no room in Empyrean
HEIROPHANT... Sing us no more your tuneless jigery pokery song
He has finally failed us


LAWMYK
TheRadicalThespian
©2018

Tell them they are cursed
Those impostors
Who pretends to be trouble shooters
Yet breaks the door latch for the robber

Friends of the common man
Who suffers from kleptomania
Men clad in devil's costumes

Hopes of the living dead
They are school boys
Who uses
Tins as vehicles
sticks as guns

Standing all day
Like a man waiting for his debtor
Clinging to motorists
like zombies
Hitting vehicles
Like goons
Shouting at the top of their voices
Like bus conductors
Waving their sticks
Like sport referees
Just to get the green rectangular polythene

With their perfidious divel
They turn the nation to a quagmire

Tell the men on black berets
That they are all cursed
Like a man who defiled his own blood


TheRadicalTheaspian

LAWMYK
©2018