Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Not a few skies flock around his facade;
He painted them all, cultured like grain
For his will,will wander for more shade
Making the lads to vent all his brain,
Humidity coiled him to a real uncle.

Before the wile, a valor but above the way,
Conspicuous as a dream blub the dreamer;
A joy from birth with fifty gills to sway,
Wealth and bump along the cud greener,
Now wealth can pump like the old lady
Molding is name to reckon with names,
SEYLEK wants to dance like a brand new bride.

Words would throb in to many ears
And stretch like blubbering fire on the beat
Jebba shall echo to mount upon his dears,
Simpson will protrudes a mountain treat,
Tapa’s boat shall stream in chorus of vessel
In their milieu, they plunge to wrestle .

O n that day quick a breathe for yours heel
L  et cars honk, let drums beat
A ll buttocks think of concerto to feel,
N estle would be a cleft you won’t try,
R resonate with TAKA SUFE rhythm or fly,
E nslave by mastery of progression ory
W earing and tearing the trajectory of joy;
A belly to sream mindless JOLLOF
J oin the felicitation that bake his cake
U se the sun,the moon shall halt the make

He explore the BATA,to tongue his ego
Or mythic SEKERE trans from EBA ODAN
The giant of SEYLEK would attest to go,
He will dance, he will dance and fan
Many days to inherit more years
And concise with mere Agbada for ears.
Even midnight dreams are shadowed by
The most humiliating failures
And the inability to cope
In areas where I formerly excelled.

By my need to get it right
While watching myself get it wrong
And race in all directions
In the hope of fixing things.

And made to answer for
The things I used to do so well
And now can’t do at all
While there’s no place to hide.

From another graphic vision of
My inability to do the things that I did best
That specter follows me into the day
Eliminating any hope of joy.

One more day begun with tears
And lack of understanding of
The reason for the torture
That my dreams inflict on me.

Was I bad and evil in my youth
Has it come back to haunt me now
No, I do not think that’s it
I am my own worst enemy.
The one to blame is only me.
Cursed with an uncontrollable unconscious that for some reason hates me.
petals close when you are near

stars shudder at your finger tips

the moon shakes in it’s silver skin

and I -


despite myself and my heart’s warnings

against your cruel caresses

I sigh, into your curves

and bury my head in the sands of oblivion
Today it won’t rain it won’t bathe the soil
Our grasses won’t merry corn shall fall
Papa soon thank is guest on constraint eve
Over bloating his ego like Jaja not Opobo
Father wants to marry his 20th wife.

Well wishers, who will come? Our pastor
Soon sermon those one wife stories
My father hisses with gallon of palm wine
Pastor preaches thou shall not drink.
Fermented liquid that’s alcohol not him.

Two commandments my father said three
“Thou shall do as he wishes” father said
I will couple more matrimonies on earth
Then thunder struck the rain fell.
In her sulking-place
alone and naked

framed in soft sepia
—the vintage, harlequin hue

at this supposed faded hour
she sits looking back on memory

she sits and stares
into the boudoir mirror

at herself
at her embonpoint

yes, at these *******
—at their landscape

how they fall
(like Niagara)

where they point
(like a compass)

what they tell (so fondly)
when pressed together

about their time
—their work and play

towers on the precipice
of judgment

both callous and

if the mirror
truly be her reflection

her vision is turned around
as illusion

—a study of tonality and tolerance
for one's own flesh

the room
an invitation

or perhaps
a lockaway

where she even keeps secrets
from herself

avenoir - n. the desire that memory could flow backward
You are the Mecca that honey the bear
The tan that slumber the night
You make the day just a light of thunder
What is your name?

Yank your smile when my bridge comes
You make the heavens weep in glory
Don’t reorient your temerity after all
What is your real name?

I won’t tell them is Ayola
I won’t confide your real love
Not even the night would hear this
What is your name?
Let me invite your soul to dine

Ayola am sorry I never called you back.
True love
Next page