"ogun" poems
#Ogun owed Oxun for the fee he paid
to divorce Yemayá in the watery deep.
Babalu Aye‘s messenger delayed
(no *** in the bargain – price too steep)
until San Martín, divine caballero
deceived the third wife of el Indio Guerrero.
(Obatala‘s beats got lost in transit
the rhythm robbed by macumba-bandit.)
Eleguá cleared paths for He Who Opens Pores.
Black roosters smoked puros at midnight. Outdoors,
Santa Muerte was asked to turn down the noise
so Nana Buluku could get some sleep.
As she gathered Ashé, reduced to a heap
of Yoruba fool’s gold anointed with blood
Oduduwa pretended he understood;
but his mother-in-law knew he never would
until Olódùmarè returned from the feast
having sacrificed roosters while facing east.
The santero drew me a pictogram
to protect me from forces my poem conjured
but the blood of a sacrificed perfect lamb
affords more protection, I knew. He wondered.
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
The creator of the universe
Our whole existence
Our tradition and way of life
The beginning and the end
The divination and religion
Of our people
Odu Ifa our literary corpus
The grand priest of Ifa
The mantle of Olodumare
The builder of the Ifa Oracle
Ile-Ife your city of abode
Orunmila,
Orirun ile Yoruba
The master of Aseda and Akoda
The Aalafin of Yoruba land
The Ooni of the Yoruba mantle
Our spiritual system of existence
Orunmila,
The supreme being
The Orisa of all orisas
Esu bows at your feet
Obatala trembles at your voice
Ogun makes an obeisance at your sight
Osun lays down at your coming
Yemonja proclaims your might
The divination of Ifa
The prophecy of the Yoruba heritage
The founder of earthly beings
The Ese Ifa
Orunmila
The principal Odu
Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
Mar 18, 2020
Mar 18, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
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
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 2:21 PM UTC
Here they come
On their high horses
And white regalia
With the pretense to mourn
Long after we cried and wailed
For the blood that has stained our land
Long after we cried and wailed
For the blood that has stained our land
Drawn by the sword of their brethren
From the veins of our brethren
How deceptive...how audacious?
Their mockery of our pain
They never felt it
They only felt threatened
Because others came to give us succour
They didn’t come with balm for the wounded
And no bandages for the bleeding
They only came to see
How deep the wounds are?Are they deeper than the valley they seek to possess?
How deceptive...how audacious?
Their disdain of our sincere tears
They came with no tears
To shed for the buried dead
Neither did they come with handkerchief
To wipe away our tears
They came to see
If the graves are as they expected
And if not...how well to inflict more wounds
Even as we mourn
They are killing more
How deceptive...how audacious?
Their mockery of our sensitivity
Instead of sending the lion to roar
And chase the wolf away
They sent the cat to run
To where? I don’t know
The cat is been running
Yet the wolf is stilling killing
And the head of the pack
Is coming to see
How red the River Benue is
Edumoga is crying
Guma and Logo is still bleeding
Makurdi has not been spared from the flames
Nigeria is being deprived of herchildren daily
From Maiduguri to Adamawa
From Zamfara to Yobe
From Ekiti to Ogun
The Land is full of graves
From Southern Kaduna to Taraba
From Enugu to Delta
From Nasarawa to Benue
The land is bleeding red
And the stench of death is no longer offensive to perceive
When will this end?
When has the maiming of children?
And slaughtering of the pregnant
Become a culture of pride?
When has it become our culture?To protect the murderer
And accuse the victim?
The eyes that pretends not to see
When the vultures are plucking out its neighbours eyes
Should not forget that when they are done
They will come for his own.
Now what can I do?
I bear no guns
I carry no swords
But I still have my words
I will not cry only with my eyes
But I will cry with my pen
Until I **** this fear
This fear that wants to make me a slave
Until the peace be restored
Through the tears of a pen bearer.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 2:40 PM UTC
The days of your infantry
Where all things were always the same
When all eyes were always on you;
Your days when you ****** from the bulging
******* of your mama,
Your days when your glorious promises
Glittered like gold and diamond
Your days of joyous innocence are long
Gone.
You became of age
Your strengths and might
Threaten your mama,
Your Papa couldn't stand your stubbornness
Your friends had to leave,
You're now call Orisa
Ebora ti n fi eje s'omi mu.
Whenever your mama question your arrogance
You turn the road down-upside
Up the fairy flame of fire
She was roasted alive while we all stood and watched
We could not even grace her a goodbye party
Then your Papa died a horrible death
They said Sanponna struck him,
Some said it was Ayilala.
Bode Saadu,
Ogun, Eesu,
Pleaded on our behalf
Yet, you remained unquestioningly wicked;
When you are happy and you want us to rejoice
With you,
Your banquet is hosted in the village square
Where sun is the special guest of honour
The lid of the pit of hell is uncovered
And the demons would pour out with aprons on their necks:
The event is never much different
-Down the tankers, Up the fairy flames of fire -
Now, your days are grey
Still, your rage is same
You know no forgiveness
You have no compassion
At dawn, the children called you orphan
At dusk, they were roasted like your mama
Everyday we wake with the fear of the unknown
Yet, we cannot stop paying our homage at the
Cemetery near your play ground.
We groan in the chains tied around our necks
And in our agony, we hope that someday, maybe
Your evil days will pass.
But, for now we call you Bode Saadu,
The land of the unknown god.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:02 AM UTC
Pounding Rhade rhythms knock on many doors
spirits curl upon the world tree
open portal, Poteau Mitan
axis between worlds
access to the land behind the mirror
bodies gyrate, caper madly,
steeds of flesh, wild-eyed and flecked with foam
absent of self await the riders
tightened goat hides rumble forbidden prayers
summoned spirits mount the lucky
Legba, doorman, admits the few
stamping beasts
Ogun, warrior, tests with savage fury
strong hearts’ courage
Accompong, judge, gives the verdict
Who will be blessed?
Who will be ridden?
chalices gibber in the black
lolling tongues
whitened eyes
give evidence of favor
a gift of knowledge from the undead
people behind the mirror
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
Characters of simple business.
A peddler who keeps tracks of his clients what is this?
Sheet metal.
I bend this element for my OGUN. Thus i made a SPOON.
If ONE knows spells to "make things happen" then how come I never told them to you?
A binder to what clings .
"you cannot bind what does not cling" that's the thing.
Find the song. So you can sing.
Some cling themselves to the truth the rest have lost because they've FELT they have nothing to lose.
I am not amused.
Cross roads as the zodiac. How am I supposed to react?
Sincerity is my divine worth.
I do not recognized the faces of these NEW gods.
The world seems so odd.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 6:21 AM UTC
If Ondo is used for settlers
And Ogun is a river
Tell me about Oyo, an empire
You mispell Gwosh as Jos
Recognised Sokoto, a market
Far away from Osun, a river
Lakes is to Lagos
As Kogin is to Kogi
And Kebbi is synonymous to Ka'abba
Janzama, women power inspired Katsina
But Kano was a Blacksmith
While Kaduna means Crocodile
The people of the golden soils of Jigawa
To the river Imo Mmiri
They don't speak Gombe at all
Take me to the hills of "Enu Ugwu"
Following the hills in "Okiti"
Without navigating through Iduu
All Ebonyi are "Aboine"
Close the Delta that marries the atlantic
And Oyono, makes you Cross River
Don't say Benue, say "Binuwe"
Balga, Yelga, Salga formed Bayelsa
And I love Kasashen Bauchi
"Anyim Oma Mbala kwenu!"
But I love ladies from "Kwa Iboe"
Only legends understands this
Tell them I told you
Adamawa is a warrior
While Abia is a coinage
If I missed your state
Go back to the history books
This is just a drill...
Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 3:39 PM UTC
No going back
We will defend our pride
Our heritage
Our fatherland
Not with guns, powder nor machetes
Not with armoured carriers
But with powers ancestral
We will visit Egungun Oya
The god of divination
We will invoke Mawu
The god of the Sun and Moon
Have you heard about Babalu aiye?
The god of infectious diseases
Let the games begin
Omoluabi oooo! Omoluabi oh!!
"Bo ba d'ogun; ko d'ogun"
Where is Sango, the god of thunder?
"Gunugu ni oruko, ti an pe Ifa?"
"Okalamagbo ni oruko ti an pe awon Iya oshoronga"
"Abiamo ki gbo ekun omo re",
"Ki o ma ta si were"
"Oya, Amotekun oooo"
When the walls of Jericho fell
How many bullets were shot?
They stood on their father's faith
How was Judah and Jerusalem taken?
The red sea parted by the word
We too, shall speak the word
But now, the words our Ancestors
When the centre can no longer hold
Surely, things will fall apart
"Omo Yoruba, ronu"
Enough! No longer shall our lands be desecreted
Cast the cowries in the calabash
Let us inquire of our gods
Shall we pursue and reclaim?
Ready, set, "Amotekun dee"
Babatunde Raimi
Author/Life Coach/Poet
08178827380 & 08035063895
Jan 15, 2020
Jan 15, 2020 at 4:05 PM UTC
Hardworking like Ogun
But you're definitely Chango
Alluring and charming
I'm enchanted by your word flow
Infatuated by the way your words wrap around my soul
Your essence is worth far more than pure gold
Your lashes kiss your skin
Like the horizon and sea
Reuniting after years of absent sun
Your eyes are like limpid pools of desire waiting to draw me in
So mesmerizing, I'm stuck in a trace
That I don't want to end
Your smile is comforting like the warmth of spring
Your laugh brings me joy
It's like hearing the canaries sing
And your skin...
Infused with melanin
Soft, fine and lustrous
Your deep brown skin
You're the heat of summer's fire
There is no one I desire...
But you
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC