I am not just a person in
a uniform, I am a Soldier.
Every time I arise,  I obey;
Each time she calls, I step up
To defend her freedom,
To restore her home of peace
I arise,  I obey, I soldier on.

Into the forest of her terrors
I charge, not without fear for that
which is mine but with love and strength
and faith, I March. Defending the labour
of heroes past, I march; fighting
for dreams of her children bright-
the  future she deserves.

I arise, I obey, I soldier on.
In the army I serve Nigeria,  my
Country with heart, might and spine.
Though a thousand times I have fallen,
bits and pieces of me, lost to her darkness,
still I obey, knowing it may be my last. I arise,
leaving my family and friends behind.

I obey your call of duty. My service and loyalty
I pack on with my combat gear, that you may live
to see yet another day, to feel yet another ray of
light on your face. I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier,  the Nigerian Soldier,
Ambushed and slaughtered in 40s, 70s and 100
for lack of resources.

Bless me O Nigeria as I arise and obey
Send me to your enemies with arsenals
and might to match the fire in my eyes.
As opposed to the massacres of me, let
the headlines read of our gallant victory
For my victory is yours over those who
threaten our unity.

I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier
Do not let my bravery dissipate to stupidity
For I rise,  I obey,  I soldier on
still.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

When the ****-shot kills not, the dead lions don’t roar.
They become the ghost in the dark, silent yet present.
Like power, real power, stealth in tall green grasses,
they watch
the victory dances and gleeful prances of deluded preys.
Beware!! Be not carried away.
Look into the eyes of the golden flames,
See their manes –Alive!!
In the fog of night’s peaceful fade.

©Belema .S. Ekine
©belemascribbles

That night he called it quit
She cried on her pillow
Curled up like a ball on
a freshman bunk bed.
The moon, its light her only pity party

One night he called to ask
If there was ever a chance
Yes or No? He asked
Just like that.  She replied
Flat out. No!!

Other days he called
Just to say hi! She went
From bad mood to feeling good
Laughing and  smiling but he
had made her cry that night,
years ago.

Today, here he is,
Looking into those eyes,
Hers,  searching.....
But he found her,  the same girl
She had waited! For him
all along.

In between, got her heart
Broken into a million pieces.
Broke her fair share too. Still
somewhere deep down she waited
to hold his.

It will be simpler, if
She was different,
For he is a different guy
now. Not the kind of guy for
her girl.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

An asset she is for this you see
In those big brown eyes
Her dreams reveal
Her destiny unique
This I know you feel so
To you I plead
Be her voice until she is
Shout it out that which she is
So she knows she can be
As colorful as she dreams.

With all our fibre and being
Let's
Shout it out
An Asset she is!!!
So she is strong to
SPEAK, BELIEVE, TO BE
That which she dreams and thinks

©Belema .S. Ekine
©belemascribbles

Ten light years and distance passed
First love comes to Capital
Burning amber like a gentleman
in theatre's night.

Side by side in the darkest aisle
Flames of old warmly spark
Whispering words with beating hearts,
Interlocking fingers and soft lips' stamp.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

We started with love.
Well, I did.

I started with love when I laid eyes on her behind, Le derrière of life.
I was pulled into a wormhole, only her slap could wake me up from.

We slipped into hate.
Well, she did.

Till with my charm I pulled her right back
For a Yoruba demon never gives up.
A carousel going back and forth, we ride from love to hate to love again.
I hate to see her go but I love to watch her leave,every single time.

Today, today is no exception.
She will be back.

©Belema.S.Ekine
(belemascribbles)

I saw her last night.
She was not alone.  She was with me.
And she was me.
Her eyes.  Their eyes.  My eyes
Glared back at me.
They were mine. They looked like mine
But they were not,
Not the way they stared.  Each stare
Sharper than the one before.
She moves closer. I feel the urge to scream
To call for help
But instead I freeze.  To think
What does it mean
If I scare me. Enough to scream
what does it mean
If I call out for help. To be saved from me
What does it mean?
Because I did...
I screamed

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

Picture this:
Girl jumps up and down her bed lip syncing
Whitney's ' Dance with Somebody'
Girl cries every single time she watches a good love story
A helpless romantic she is

I was that girl
So when the day came
I fell HARD!
No shocker there
Thinking I was blessed because he fell harder
We were Adam and Eve in Eden
Before the biting of the apple
In our birthday suits without a care
Or a fear of prying eyes

And then it was all gone
Yanked from us
Futility became our reality
The naivety that was our future
I learnt it was never ours to keep
Evicted! we are to move
Onto our separate chapters
For vain had been my (our) inputs

Picture this:
Now
26 years 6months old
All drained out
Girl jumps up and down her bed lip syncing
No more , nothing left just
A Door hanger
That screams
'EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE'

©Belema.S.Ekine
(belemascribbles)

I miss bleeding.
I have not bled in a while.

Not for lack of trying.  Believe me. I
Have scratched and scratched beneath
The surface. Like a bad rash each time.

I come up dry,  not a blood to smear.
It has happened before. More than once actually.

You would think.  By now.  I would know how to deal
With it.  But like conflict,  not one is exactly the same.
You would think.  I.  Would be patient.  This too shall pass.

But don't nobody got time for that. For to bleed is to live.

So I scratch. and I claw. Through this four.  Walled chamber

Till I bleed just enough.  To feed my pen.  To quench this thirst.


©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

So much to tell you. So much to show you.
So many back and forth. So many two way -
Conversations and emotions,
Giving and taking,
Vulnerabilities and experiences,
Sharing and creating;

Yet I find myself holding back words,
Suppressing feelings I have not trusted
for quite a while now.

I am stuck, frozen with anxiety.
Anxiety is a leftover.  I hate leftovers because
I am proud like that.  Anxiety is the PTSD I get
from falling all my life and not noticing until,

I hit the ground face down,
taking you with me and my pride;
for I was so sure
It was you.

My focus was wrong. It was not you.
That **** humbled me like a heart attack,
so I hide in plain sight; making connections
but cautious of the depth so you have an idea of
                                                    
but not everything. It is for the best,
I tell myself. I have to protect my hurt or
so I thought ‘til you asked the question
‘are you scared on my behalf?’

Hmmmmm, I never thought of it that way.
I guess I am scared on your behalf but,
but if I told you that, then I will be telling too much
and  I cannot;  my shameful pride

would not allow me.  It is ashamed and
can take no more,
especially if it is not you.
                                    
I have said too much and I have not said anything.
I have gone back and forth with myself one too many times.
I want to trust what I feel again but first these leftovers;

I have got to dispose. They have got to go.
So,
Anyone know where to  find
a herd of pigs?

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

Look! A new star up above
A new wave is come upon us

Just as prophesy foretold
A child is born
Beneath Bethlehem's night sky
Wrapped up in swaddling cloth

O what a beautiful babe we have here
On a mission he has come

How do we welcome Him
Who did not just come but
Has always been in the beginning
With God

And is God
The Creator

Yes
The One who created the heavens and the earth
Said let there be light and there was light
The One who is King,  commands chariots of fire
With warrior angels at His disposal

His throne he leaves and now
He cries in a lowly manger filled with hay

JESUS is His name
O Sweet Baby Jesus
Vulnerable like the ones he came to save
O King Baby Jesus

The only one of his kind
Was, is or ever will be

For love is often given to babes when they are born
But love He brought with life's first cry
Love He taught,  Love He showed,  Love He gives
To all even though....

He comes so all can have life
Life in abundance

Yet He chooses to start life with an adventure
On a donkey,  across country
On the run from King Herod
Who was threatened by a little baby

O Great little one
Born with a destiny so grand

HE has chosen to live by example
For to save us,  HE becomes us to show us
Obstacles,  temptations, naysayers surround us
But our eyes we fix on the price

Just as HE did on the cross
For He lives so he would die

Die that we may live not only this life,
But the one eternal with the Father
His Father - God
For He has come to do His Father's work

This is His Son in whom HE is well pleased
Follow Him the new star

Like the wise men from the east did
With their gold, acknowledge his Kingship on earth
Adore His Priesthood,  Reverence His Sacrifice
Everyday for they are frankincense and myrrh

Treasures fit for the new born baby
The second person of the Trinity

Welcome
O
Little
One.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles

Like a detective with an audio recording in hand,
Listening for an imperceptible sound-an echo, a jangle
An early morning east wind weaving through the branches
That missing clue with which to break his mysterious case
wide open. I find myself with you in my ear on rerun,
Pressing play, pause, rewind on impulse. Like an astronaut
on a mission to Mercury, your words trailing your voice,
Left ear to right, swimming around within, keeping my core
warm and fluffy like freshly baked doughnuts.

So,
Here I am

SNAP SNAP SNAP
SNAPPING my musical fingers
to the PERFECT song, as your words
in 00:03 seconds,
collide with my beguin'ing heart
Like drumsticks on a set.

©Belema.S.Ekine
(belemascribbles)

You come first, he goes next
This is the way it will be done
From now henceforth

Whoever washes the dishes today
Gets a pass on Tuesday
Born on a Wednesday
Says you wash the dishes on this day

Just like in birth
Your sibling follows suit
The next day

Iron clad roster
You'd say

Till she sees the mountain of dishes
Waiting in the sink on Friday

©Belema.S.Ekine
(belemascribbles)