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Oladeji popoola Jan 2019
This place was once God’s pious station.
Humanity is the song we sing to him.
The leaves praise him with peaceful African breeze, the breeze of our God.
The children of our mother earth were not left out of the feeling that planted oneness in the minds of the *******. Stone, that was what their minds were known for.

Life was then a simple sphere but now complicated and shapeless.
Life was then soft like unwithered breast but now a
granite. Then hearts was glaring but now, Africa and their black hearts.

See them,
They are crucifying humanity in the house of our God.
They are crucifying humanity in the court of law.
They are crucifying humanity on the matrimonial beds.
They are crucifying humanity on the aisle of power.
They are crucifying humanity for legal tenders.
They are crucifying humanity to be a god.
They are crucifying humanity in the struggle of religion.
They are crucifying humanity to calm the raging stomach.
They are crucifying humanity for thrones.
They are crucifying humanity in front of humanity.
They are crucifying humanity everywhere.
Now humanity is on the verge of death.
See them as they are whipping him.
See his skin as it swell to burst.
They are punching him, they want to punch him to
Can you see those barbarian as they merry with the melody of crucifixion. Humanity is their scape goat.

Humanity is dead in theirs
but it is still alive in your heart,
It is still alive in your words.
Humanity must be alive in our home.
Let humanity live in Africa as free citizen.
If you are guilty of his death what do you gain?
Oladeji popoola Dec 2018
No.o.o one!
No one including father and mother will do more than their best.
They may only throb laziness out of us when we choose to follow the **** to its coop at dusk.
Yes, they will correct us when we deny hawker's tray or left their stall to play with folk.
But who should we reproach first, the colonial masters or God for our failure?
Who should we blame first, our head or this tattered land we found ourselves?
Who is guilty for our ignorance and those lost souls in the wilderness of evil,
Our teachers, our adulterated culture or our country elders?
Who should we throw stone at first,
Our frail mind or Satan, for falling prey to swindler's induction?

Let us blame ourselves,
Blame thyself for making hay when the sun set.
Blame thyself for denying yourself a second birth.
Blame thyself for snoring in the refuge of laziness.
Blame thyself for dying thousand death again and again.
Where our problem begins is from our hands, our mind, and what we accept not to live without.
Oladeji popoola Dec 2018
Whhat if,
What if the sun that warms a earth is lost and we search for it apart?

What if those frigid memory visit again and it beyond my furnace?
Now time is falling us apart
But how do I caution this nature
chasing out your warmth to foray with the sun.

What if the sun ceased to smile
How do I erase those days off my coming days?
Oh! sun, what if you ceased to smile?
Then this solitary love becomes mine.

You are a sun
Who will comfort the snail to live on without a shell?
Who will solace those joyful trees to live on without their crown?
Who will console ekuro when ewa set off a voyage of no return?
Who will console a soul whose breath has been set free?

You are a sun
Shine on my day,
Ever let your sun smile.
Oladeji popoola Dec 2018
Last night was for Linda Crige chanting of love excitement that wakes the sleeping forest.
Six rounds ***...
What is my concern?

Nevertheless, uncle is back with Mercy Bukas. Tonight I shall spy through the keyhole.
But it was not like yesterday, my eye greeted the ***** of the moment with the intensity of the sun.
The night was for conversation! for conversation!

"I am pregnant this is the test result, four month and two weeks." Voice seized from close range. My eye gazed uncle's mind, though it was misty.  
This must be emblematic of joy I inferred. Pandemonium broke out and silenced the smiling breeze, argument ravaged the air. Uncle denied "It is for Danjuma"
Not a muttered curse from the two sides. Ogun and Sango did not awake from their tranquil sleep regardless but Esu was at work. Their curse appalled my heart not once. "Who is at home to settle the rage"
but rather the awaken forest was matching closer. "I never promise to marry you" uncle glued my ears with his voice of wiles. Chapter closed.

Alas, a child will be born, head for uncle, dark-skinned as Danjuma, others for Alien.
An unfortunate child will be born by a promiscuous mother to licentious father only if not a descendant of sewage.

Ogun: god if iron
Sango: god of thunder
Esu: Yoruba name for satan
Oladeji popoola Dec 2018
They left us a birth prize
We all believe to be gold
They glided to the front
They called it bronze
The city engulfed by ire.

We concluded again they left us silver
They called it stone
The city bewailed of inequity
Blood, blood....
The city unrest
The antagonists sacrificed.

"Either bronze or stone show us our birth prize" The voracious compatriots claims trickled to the negotiating corner.
In spite of all words,
Their actions betrayed our claims.

Again, the city soaked in dread,
Antagonists wanted,
Heedless, we protested
"Give us our birth prize"
Antagonists thundering voices
silenced with prototypes.
Shrewdly, they dance to the city
with drums and packages: lustrous education, fat salary, electricity, infrastructures, healthy economy, social amenities, health care...
They boast of frequent return of all only with the birth prize.
In their wit, we found relief, and
We drummed home to feed on
repercussion of a new dawn.

— The End —