"tolulope" poems
I've always wanted to design dreams
Not to chase them like kids after butterflies in the fields
But to decorate and further furnish them.
.
I've always wanted to mend dreams
Not to be the one with the broken pieces of dreams
But to repair them with the kisses of hope.
.
But just like a chameleon nature changed her wardrobe
And like the space in-between an anvil and an hammer,
I lost my needle and tools to time.
.
Now, when we the sun comes up
I host troubles
Even when the sun goes down
I host double of the prior troubles
Only I hope, it won't be forever!
.
Balogun David Tolulope
©️drunkpoet
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 10:55 AM UTC
I know of a mysterious being,
Dressed in suits, but bestowed with ancient voices.
I know of a magician,
A supernatural astounder, who performs in hearts of men.
.
I know of a trickster,
Whose tricks surpass that of tortoise in folklores
And whose dark long hat is made with anguish.
I know of a sorcerer, who performs in hearts of men.
.
He, who gives without notifying hesitation,
Comes to take with without invitation .
I know of a wizard, giver of caps but taker of heads
And he lives in hearts of men .
.
Of a riddler I know,
Whose riddles creates chaos in minds of scholars.
I know of a man, who visited me not long ago,
A merchant of Venice looking for a land to sow.
On his hand lies arrow and bow
Ready to shoot into the dearest of hearts
Saying "am coming to you, to create my mark "
And he lives only in the shadows
.
Balogun David Tolulope
(Drunk poet)
©️2017
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Screams, Sighings, groanings
I heard in whispers as it echoes in my soul
Fallen! We are, on the battlefield
Like an egg, smashed on a rocky surface
Our fate now decided by our foes
.
Cries I heard,
As the ****** of spears move through our hearts
Clattering of swords echoes, and vibrated off our arms
Waters I drank,
That flows from my eyes alongside with blood from my veins
Defeated we are! Captives we became.
.
Our women married off like harlots without bride prices
Our sons led off to be slaughtered like cows in the abattoir
Our gods disregarded like a king, naked in the market
.
We are defeated, but not defeated
For mothers will name their sons after us!
Men will bow and worship us like gods in temples!
Girls will scream our names when their lovers excite them
Wives will sing our names when they gaze at their *** of Bush meats
For we are only defeated, not defeated.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
(drunk poet)
©️
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
Fate has choked on us
Our life driven by wind on monstrous sea
Conquered by our friendly foes
Invoking death and tears accompanied with plague
On our fatherland
.
Tonight, we bury our deads
For the they have joined our ancestors
Let us dress up our wounds for our visit
To the ancestors has been postponed
Let us sharpen our blades and smoothen our spears
For this is just our prologue
.
May fear not be the guest
But the gods in their very best
As we sit round the fireside,
May the gods ignite the fire inside
Sing! For this is the last dirge our lips would sing
Lay the young ones to sleep and sing them sweet lullabies
That they may take shield in their tender dream
.
We fight back
Like Herculean with strength on
We write fate with ink on the clouds
Commanding death on our foes like rain on pastures
No one tell our story like us!
.
Balogun David Tolulope {drunk poet}
IG-@ace_da_drunk_poet
©️2017
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
Sometimes I beat myself up in your glory,
And sometimes my tears flow like river Nile in your honor.
Your wonders on me are misery and dolor,
And starting over is your judgment.
I know failure is a tool in your hands,
And pain is your mercy.
You are a warlock, who conquers hearts and lands
A general you are, that breaks one in pieces.
You are a pause in success,
And disappointment is your surname.
A predator that preys on even lions,
And auguish is your mercy.
But I know you a soldier that matches me on
Keeps me alive to push harder and harder,
Makes me go further and further,
To struggle, until success is my slave.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC
My feet move me
Like a sailor determining the
Fate of a ship
Kilometers I move, away from my hut's threshold
Where I battle in thoughtless thoghts
.
Solid thoughts,
Roaming on my mind like hawkers
On the streets of Lagos
I felt the tears of the cloud
Drenching me with knowledge on
My only piece of "ankara"
.
Where would fate lead me?
For I fear it's forces may blow me into
The forest of unfulfilled dreams
Will I end up like my fathers?
Who had many wives with shorten lives
Ha! I need the compass of life
.
Let me excrete myself on the platform
Of golds not of the gods
Not reality in an invidious thoughts
Yes, I decide my fate!
Not the gods, reality or some stupid thoughts!
.
Balogun David Tolulope
Drunk poet*©️2017
IG=ace_da_drunk_poet
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
I've met maggots in my jar of salt
Boomerang they say
But quite interesting I found them
.
Like cattles, evil had roamed in my thoughts
Devil they called me
But really adventurous I found them
.
I had copulation with entangled women
With barriers on them, like mango trees embargoed by landlords
But more pleasurable they seemed
.
I tasted the venom of snakes
They touched my soul like an airplane
Because above all these,
one kind of death will surely **** a man.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
©️drunkpoet
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 10:54 AM UTC
Listen,
I wish to spill my thoughts on the papyrus of your heart
And to Crest my love on the skin of your emotions
I want you to be the dream I will never wake up from
And the only rain that will ever kiss my soil
Listen,
I wish to dive into the pool of your love
That I may be drown in your deepest emotions
I want you to crush me with the rock of your sympathy
And from your fountain of desires I wish to have a drink
Listen
I wish to have my heart beating in your hands
That my fingertips and ink will poetically publish our love story
And have men praise me for my heroic love stupidity
Listen,
Just like Romeo, I wish to be breathtakingly foolish enough
To die for you
Because I know love is a little slice of insanity.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
{drunkpoet}
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 12:40 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
I know you wield the beauty of flowers
And sweet scent of roses you emit.
Yes, you dwell in a city called love,
In a region we call emotion
... But please tell me, who are you?
Your eulogy has no end,
And your praises know no limits.
For your "ode" is someone else's "elegy".
Sometimes you bring tears, sometimes smiles
... But please tell me, who are you?
When will you visit me?
At my dusk or my dawn?
Today or tomorrow?
No need be, I beg of you
For my eyes are unworthy to behold your beauty
... But please tell me, who are you?
She replied me and said
I wield the Beauty of black roses
The madness in hearts of men I am
I wear prettiness, but a monster I am!
And tears is my signature!
For I am pain!
.
Balogun Tolulope David
(Drunk poet) 2017
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
My people,
Deprive not your eyes of it's sight
That we see the flames, dancing on our huts
Like a stripper in a club night
For here we are, bleeding without a cut
.
Listen people!
That we may ear the roaring laugter
Of the big boys at our own handed damnation
For the shame is sweet and our tongue compromised
We are pathetic, yet, we call ourselves a nation
.
My people,
The seed we planted, has grown branches
The calamity we dreamt of has stopped by, to say "hello"
Corruption and his brothers seem to have come to stay
The big ones laugter grows more as we fight this flame with fire
.
Sons of a shoemaker,
Walking barefooted in the woods
May Heavens come to our rescue,
For our shadows has come to hunt us
And our herbalist has no clue how to make the concoction to heal our insanity.
.
Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
©️2017
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
ANOTHER SAD LOVE STORY
.
Let me tell you a tragic romantic tale
I won't bore you with Shakespeares
Not with Othello's tragic flaw
Nor with Romeo and Juliet's melodramatic flairs
And definitely not with the stupid love adventure of Prince of Tyre.
.
Let me tell you another sad story
Not Jack's hypothermic death in Titanic
Nor about my beloved Lucy whom I lost to the shadows of time
I won't make you snore with these
.
Love has lost her value with us
As she sits on the couch of poetry
I watch her sob, soaked in her own very tears
Because we have forgotten what she means.
Yes, we no longer know the meaning of love
... And this is the sad love story
.
Balogun-tolulope-david
Drunk poet
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 6:59 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
Only through memories
.
It was not far before long
When our stares would meet all night long
Your little smiles I would see, when my lips
Sing you a beautiful song
.
It was really brief before far
Together at the right side of our sofa
Sharing dreams of being called Mama and Papa
And our love be of this dream's ladder
.
It was not far before now
When our love began to go down
Like a stormy rain that receives a peaceful
Calm
It went puff like the smoke of tobacco
From the tender balm of our palm
.
It won't be soon after a long while
When salty rain from my eyes will follow this Last line
I see you only through memories, as days begot day
And it comes and go like menstrual pain
.
Balogun David Tolulope
(Drunk poet)
©️2017
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
Arise, O ye unworthy sons
Conceived in the belly of an harmless zebra
Raised by fathers of gutless mind
Who dug our Graves with golds
Gotten from their unquenching cravings for dusted
Fantasy of our shoveled dreams
.
They battled with the ones in white skin
"heroes" they were called, cause they fought
In one anchor
The sang of songs from the lips like birds
Defending their territory, lyriced freedom.
.
But the corpse of shame litters our gaze
The injured hearts with withered hope of greatness
Bleed our progress
So we weep heavily in saddened outburst
Cause we failed and our blood has turned black
For we "unworthy sons" they begot
.
The black bird of woes cries in a desolate
Place
For even the bones mourn us for their odds
We are!
Of what now be their heroic deeds?
Of what scores now be their victory?
For we search apprecia-fun,
When our little knowledge is torn.
.
©️ Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
2017
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 11:48 AM 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
I have been caught by her beautiful beauty
Like a fish in the neck
My heart becomes a mortar and her eyes a pistol whenever I gaze around her neck.
Sister Mary's necklace
Whose ornament of trinket captured my timid eyes
Causing my lips to make soundless sighs of grasping twice
Whose ornament rolls in a valley subdued between two mountains
Or perhaps towers of grace
.
Forgive me father, if my description of her turn you on
Maybe I read too much of the songs of Solomon
Only heavens knows the treasures that lies in the
secret Place beneath her habit
Her smiles I love, plus her caring habit
Her gentle gaze caused my mind to race
Into an unknown land I can not trace
Causing hands movement into the darkest of places
Even in the presence of solemn praises
.
Oh sister Mary, how can I describe your tender embrace?
Warmer than a cathigan made of fur
But too rapid like the space in between my pace
Your celestical dove on the chest I first admired,
When I was four and all I remember was that
My heart became dim and somehow blur
It caused my the meshing of our souls in circles
.
Sister Mary
Who makes me scream "holy Mary mother of our savior"
For the thought of her savors my tender sins
For her body I see, even I my dreams
For here I am at the confessional,
Forgive me father for it has been a day since my last confession
Yet, it feels like a century
.
Balogun David Tolulope+ anonymously anonymous
{drunk poet}
©️2017
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 3:53 PM UTC
Woman of mine,
Tastes like cherry-chocolate wine,
Omoyele, that'e her name,
Or Tolulope, 'tis all the same.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Back to our primitive society
Where unity and tranquility were the mainstay of the community
When religion dare not defile us,
Now putting knives and deadly sticks in our hands
Dear wind, please blow me.
.
Back to those archaic periods,
When government bled not our hearts
When power to rule was not power to ****
Dear wind, please blow me.
.
Back to to those barbaric periods
When our maidens won't have to move naked
To look like a queen
Where we don't animalize ourself in the name of civilization
Dear wind, please blow me back
.
Dear wind, blow me
Back in time, I plead to you
When the word "tradition" and "culture" was untainted,
When the gods played in our midst like monkey on trees,
Yes! When we were not civilized but lived long.
.
Balogun David Tolulope {Drunk_poet}
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 2:32 AM UTC