"kola" poems
Ajoke, daughter of moremi,
Beauty is a predicament in your lineage,
Your beauty bring out star at night,
Stars even told the Wisemen about it.
The beauty that runs in your blood,
Mama kola makes a lot of profit at dawn,
When men gathered to drink and speak of
Your beauty.
Each making a bet to have you.
Ajoke, your ęwa(beauty) is angelic,
Your tiny voice is mellific,
Your dimples is intoxicatic,
Your ostrich legs so charismatic.
But your beauty is delusive,
Think not that a derisive,
I must be Ilucinating!
Stop appearing in my dreams,
Come to my reality!
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
Love is Young; Love is Old
Old love in age Young love at heart
A never dying feeling felt more in death
The Sweetness of Love is always better than its bitterness
Yet the feeling of Loves' bitterness is why we love more
Love is Pain; Love is Gain
Painful Love is Jealous
Gainful Love is Humorous
Old Lovers die in gain
Young Lovers hurt in pain
The experience of Love
When it is from the wrong place
a sweet feeling hurting a thrilling
As the tastes of the Bitter Kola
stays bitter until chewed and swallowed further
Then the sweetness sips in sweetening
Ife Orogbo; an old love that loves long
bearing all through thick and thin
In Sickness and in Health
till death do you part
like gold in fire; fish in water
Ife Orogbo; True Love Grows Old
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
Doc Allen
Hello nurse, how does our day look,
pretty busy Doctor Allen.
Well send me in the first patient,
hello Mr. Davis, how may I help you,
well doc, I have a problem getting a hard on.
Well sir you have Erectile Dysfunction,
or better know as impotence.
I will write you a prescription for ******
try them for a week, if they don't work,
have your wife come in and I will satisfy her needs.
Next patient, Nurse Lucy,
His name is well we don't know he has Amnesia.
Oh goody, hello do you know who you are, nope,
do you know where you're from, nope,
do you know anything, nope.
Well sir there are no pills,
but I will try something.
Now this may hurt a lot,
I'm gonna whack you with a hammer.
Ouch doc, hey I remember now,
my name is Bob and I'm from Boston, thanks doc.
Nurse Lucy, who's next,
it's Susan and she has Tourette Syndrome,
oh boy, another winner.
Hello Susan how are you today,
good doc, **** **** **** sucker.
Wow does this happen often,
about twice a day, **** *** ****
Well Susan there is no cure,
but you must relax more,
try some yoga and meditation,
now slutty, ***** ***** get the **** out.
Nurse Lucy, who's next, Lance he has Leprosy,
wow what a day this is.
Hello Lance, how are you today,
I'm good but I'm falling apart.
I see that your finger just fell on my desk,
sorry doc, it's getting worse,
I already lost my *****
Well Lance there is nothing worse than that,
there is one known treatment.
It's called Gotu Kola, it doesn't cure it,
but it will slow it down.
Oh god sir, your ear just fell in my coffee,
we'll have to order it, but in the mean time,
try not to lose your head.
Nurse Lucy, anyone else,
one more Doctor Allen and it's me,
I need *** real bad.
Bend me over the desk,
and pound me good,
Nurse Lucy,
I thought you'd never ask.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
The ghost in your eyes tells me it's gonna be alright. ****** senseless on what might as well have been a two stacked mattress at Holiday Inn, your girl closes her yes and sees orange tones of red flashing down the white sleeves of your bland shirt,
she's on fire, heavenly so, she's on fire, a can of crushed fruit stuffed and so you feel for me, your dreams of wooly women curved of sheep and soul-y wandering across your aim, you fire, "I'm into it." as you set my frame a-glow. My legs twist into pretzels, see me baby. I am your Amazonian woman, wide-shipped and shimmering beneath the angry sun.
Orange hued and hungry for your blue American Spirited high yellow lungs, you find my funkadellic paraphernalic lips, swollen as they are for your candor.
I am Queen Ivy inspire, lucidly waiting to be the poison that inspires you, I sit lonesome on the stoop of anabandoned lot, Peter Penning down your inked arms, "Not only boys are lost," into your caramel Cuban coffeed dreams, "Girls can be too."
What live game do I remind you of, I wonder as you taste me, bitter kola nut forming across your lips as white swells of smoke ruin you, we are unbearably distant. One never hurt and the other already ruined once before and possibly never again: That sickeningly silly kind of shy but not that lingers cold to the blue flames you expel my way as dark clouds form into your eyes.
I am your Amazonian woman.
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
nothing more satisfying
than that
first swim
of the summer
that first lick of a
dripping icee or gelato whatever floats your goats
but that view
of that first warm sunset
reminding you that you don't got a man yet.
_absolutely precious_
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC
Let me have a bite
Beside the shaped ancient teeth
From the mythic kola
Where only wisdom dwells.
.
Let me have a smoke
From the ancient pipe
Pulled out from aged toothless mouth
That smells our untainted heritage.
.
Let me have a sip
From the curved horns and cultured Calabash
Filled up with ale and undiluted palm wine
To intoxicate me with our heritage.
.
Let me have a seat
Amongst the white beard heads
To play the "local game" with stones
So that I may be taught the bounds in my thoughts from
From aged bloods that flows like euphrates into the garden of our motherland.
.
Let us have some music
Sang with dry lips that echoes from soundless cave
Infuriated with flutes, gongs and talking drums
That we may dance-off our ignorance
To see the chain left by our ancestors to be drawn.
Balogun David Tolulope
Drunk Poet
© 2017
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
OH BABY! FLOWERS BLOOMED FROM MY SKULL.
do you remember how you split it open? like the bittersweet greeting of a kola nut, you split it open, ya know? yelling goodbyes to my brain, as all my memories kicked for mercy to never be forgotten.
do you remember the ripples of my blood?
you told me i was beautiful, how the cerebral sap of my mind was tender and pink and raw, like a cleaved watermelon on a japanese summer’s day, sweet and sour, so sweet and sour, you watched in delight as I writhed on the barren floor, begging mother earth for sweet death.
i remember you well.
the sparse nightclub, the flashing lights, the litters of countless dancing bodies.
then there was you, gold-eyed, black-lipped, summer-dropped skin, dyed-waves.
you looked for sad girls like me, girls who tried to fix you, and spoon feed you words of love and glamor, you looked heartbroken darling.
you were gorgeous, godly gorgeous, with the devil’s mind but the tongue of a saint, you reeled me in; never having to hunt since your prey came to you, we searched for the lost light in your eyes.
and I saw it, life reborn, given birth by da vinci, a renaissance erupted through your white death bones, you came alive, savoring each wound, each terrified soprano raking my raspy throat till their was no more, you were strong, so ungodly strong that fighting back only got you harder, happier-severing my hope of survival to a orange pulp.
but i got to see it.
how i fixed you.
temporarily.
there was complete solace in your eyes, you could breathe again, feel again, laugh again, enjoy again, cry again, dream again, living gave you misery, yet ****** bore you life itself.
do you remember? cause i remember. how you said there were flowers blooming from my skull.
no mourning lilies or winged roses, but a cornucopia of smiling magnolias, swollen tulips, and drugged poppies, you told me i was beautiful.
what a fond summer slaughter it was.
“he caved in your head to fill the hollowness in his heart. but you are nothing more than a fleeting memory now.”
-AugustusSea
Aug 13, 2020
Aug 13, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
I thought I could be strong for you mama
To endure the pain and drama
The countless whips on my naked body
The tears that flow all night.
I wish you could read between the lines
To hear my soul whisper the pain I felt.
Why couldn't you unveil the beast you cuddled daily?
Each night the crescent moon floods my room
I would watch joy and happiness flee from me
Each night, my dignity was stolen, my heart broken
My soul ripped apart but I couldn't scream.
Did his gifts blind your eyes to your child
Did his lies taste like sweet wine?
Did my truth taste like bitter kola?
Did my tears make you aghast?
Will I die in silence? Night after night.
By the time you read this
I'll be in my daddy's arms
I'll tell him the horror your love committed.
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
I heard the sound gongs
That echoes vehemently through
The dept of my solemn soul
The call, of which I must answer
O crier! Bearer of the voice of the ancient ones
Calling unto me, to come have a seat amongst the ancestors.
.
I fear that I might be gone
Too soon to give thee my " adieu "
I fear that you might be the hands to wash me in my death
I fear I might be gone!
Far gone to share in your "kola" and "palm wine"
Oh! I fear that My lands,barns,wives and Concubines would fall in your hands after my Exit from this naked world.
.
But I would smile
When my soul gazes down
Seeing myself in the round circles
Of your unending presence
I would dance to sweet dirges from you lips
I would smile when your heads shake for me
My cheeks enchanted with laughter in the tale
Of your ignorance.
.
For now, I decide your fate
Of your dreams I now have a tale
Your voices,I a carrier
The ancestors seat now my dwelling.
Balogun David Tolulope
(Drunk poet)
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
In the square of the hanging palms
where the white sands sifts softly underfoot
and geckos and lizards know to stay away
the elders sit in quiet contemplation chewing kola nuts
Come, you son of tomorrows for its time
Soon you will go into the forest to find your mettle
for the Night of a thousand whispers beckons
where you will meet the headless warriors with three legs
and the talking calabash will ask of you where bravery lives
You will traverse in honour grace on your own
for now the hills says you are no longer a stranger
and your hand now reaches over your head to your ear
you will get a sheath for your sword and the armlet of a deity
that holds the charms of all the braves who wore your blood
know that the tears of your mother was shed only at your birth
You are a son of the land made of water and lightning
Sango gave you heart of fire while you drank the milk of tigress
before the oracle it was divined that your road leads in frontage
go resolutely with the cured spirit of the blazing sun at noon
remember some days ahead you will walk alone, its ordained
walk wisely like the tiger with the sleight of the regent beast
Know that in your river blood flows the tales of the unvanquished
the tenacity of the lynx and the ****** of your sword cleaves solid
go and do not look back, your path is true and the Creator sees!
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 3:07 PM UTC
It's been over two decades
Since I was evicted from my mother's womb
Naked I was, like the world herself
Clothed with tragedy and couples of disdemeanor
.
I become one of the grasses
On which two elephants vindicated
Suffering from the friendly smile of the sunlight
And the fair hospitality of the wretched moonlight
.
Then my thoughts sat me down
I know about poor luxuries downtown
And big fishes now drowning in Mississippi
Hmmm.... Vague world with little clarity!
.
But news came to me
Like hurdles and puzzles of past years
A place beyond the moon and the stars
Where I will **** from golden *******
And listen to tales from the mouth of "countless kola"
.
Balogun David Tolulope {drunk poet}
©️2017
IG*ace_da_drunk_poet
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 7:04 AM UTC
Coming through the windows
Our bedside lamp in bow
In welcome of your brightness
With Hope, peace, and happiness
Oh! You unveil
A new beginning with love
Carried by your light like dove
A beginning full of hope
Mother’s knees bent in devotion
Counting beads as in meditation
At the ancestral shrine
Father pours libation
Breaking kola nut as in occasion
All in welcome of you
Ewoo…! Ewoo..!!
Seven piece from one kola
This is an Omen….
Father in great awe
Mother seems far away
Both in conflicting hope
Your light shine for us to cope
You shine with promise
For us to work and not miss.
Fellow; lets embrace this light
And walk our paths with strength
In oneness to love
In unity to wit
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 8:52 AM UTC
In the land of Igbo, where stories unfold,
A soul bears burdens, both young and old.
"Why always me?" the heart does plea,
In the rhythm of life, a poignant decree.
Beneath the palm trees, where breezes sigh,
Ancestral echoes in the crimson sky.
Through the hustle of markets, tales untold,
The query persists, a narrative bold.
Is it the weight of history, a heavy chain?
Or destiny's dance in the pouring rain?
In the dance of kola, where traditions blend,
"Why always me?"—a query to comprehend.
Through the bustling cities and village lanes,
Resides a spirit resilient, amidst life's strains.
In the echoes of language, a melodic plea,
"Why always me?" in the Igbo symphony.
Yet, amid challenges, strength does rise,
In the tapestry of struggles, where hope lies.
Through the echoes of ancestors, resilience we see,
A vibrant spirit asking, "Why always me?"
Dec 22, 2023
Dec 22, 2023 at 5:10 AM UTC