TA'MO TIYE

I swiftly float around the village,

Looking like an hungry lion on rampage,

Boasting feet that beats the Earth at rhythmic paces,

Hands like broomsticks

And clothes that sweeps the streets clean,

The mighty crowd doesn't trip me,

Nor the verbose sheep skinned drums,

Which tirelessly proclaims my name,  

From dawn to crack of the day.

They call me the celestial spirit of all heights,

Short in the morning, average at noon, tall at night,

But i like to call myself ta'mo tiye,

Eru to'n gbe eru mi,

Like air to the lungs… my whip to my hands,

Oblivious of other languages but the sound of my whip and chants,

The scene i evoke is such a glamour; an ardor of archaic music and dance,

Yet I bring nightmare on any woman that knoweth not her place,

And terror on any man who dares to see my face.

The kids see me and scamper away,

Screaming that which spits fire has come out to play!

Pay me my dues or my whip will visit your back,

When Ta'mo tiye comes out to play!

Dim your torches n hold your abelas so far away,

When Ta'mo tiye comes out to play!

Turn off every sound generating set and retire to recluse,

When Ta'omo tiye comes out to play!

shut your doors and lock your women inside,

Cause Ta'omo tiye is out to play!

-Olumide Fayomi

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