Pangolo ti Pangolo!

 

 

 

 

The village is going crazy

The drum rolls, the palm wine craze,

the creepy masked faces

The thrills, the loud noises from the fanfares

The traditionalist all dressed in white apparels

Marching in unison down to the market square

The children, the women and able men screaming their lungs out

All set to mark a conurbation of historical event

My fellow brothers from the West and South

Can you hear the Udi speaking in tongues?

With a voice louder each time Okonkwo's back touches the ground

Can you hear the thunderous claps?

Its rhapsodies so fluent each time Amalinze wields a punch

Can you see the Ayangalu's beating their Gangans?

with so much power you wouldn't hear an iroko fall

Can you see the maidens gracefully swaying their irukeres and beads?

A glorious apparition that'll rent your lips for days

The clouds has shut it doors upon us

The sun is out to roam the street again

And the wind has gone to cuddle in the blanket of sleep for a while

So let's fill our barns from bottom to top

Let's scream pangolo ti pangolo

From junctions to junctions

For today ends it all..

The endless months of torrential rainfall

 

-Olumide Fayomi

https://www.facebook.com/olumide.fayomi.7?fref=ts

THE AFRICAN METALLIC SNAKE

 

 

 

Faka fiki faka .......fooom foom!!

 

Here comes the African metallic snake/

Smoking across the Velds and Dusty plains/

Purring tirelessly as I charge forward and sway/

Through tunnels, hills, low lands and over the highways/

The sight is a wreck for anything that doesn't get out of my way/

But Hard as I may...

When I get tired, I visit a specially designed place/

where I'm fixed or changed/

So I could retire back to my fate/

Of announcing my thunderous arrival.... till I catch another Migraine/

And if your children ask to know bout me...

Tell em Faka Fiki Faka... Foom Foom... is the happy sound that I make!!

 

 

-Olumide Fayomi

https://www.facebook.com/olumide.fayomi.7?fref=ts

 

My PEN

 

 

Every stroke, every dance, every sway/

My nifty nibbling masquarade makes/

Across the dunes of my endless page/

It goes raising dusty thoughts - a life time stain/

 

Every clay, every grain of word/

My dexterous Potter fashions or moulds/

Tossing and turning at very precise nods/

Biting tirelessly into fleshy pages untold/

 

It stems along the leaves of my lengthy book/

Striding majestically into terrains unknown/

Into every cranny, every nook/

Ever more careful each time it misses a step or so/

 

Oh mighty inkguist!

I marvel at your inking skills/

I shudder at how every tongue thou inkly speaks/

Standing atop of your slim noisy lips/

 

 

-Fayomi Olumide

https://www.facebook.com/olumide.fayomi.7?fref=ts 

 

 

Mercy, Please!

 

I wish you could hear my tiny voice plead;

'Don't kill me, please spare my little life!'

You don't desire me, but please yield

To my innocent plea: don't cut me with that knife!

 

Now you are desperate to swallow those pills!

But please just give me a chance to stay,

I know it will be hard to foot the bills,

But I promise to bring you joy everyday.

 

Yes, if you spare me, I'll bring you shame,

Get you  scorned, rid you of a home,

My presence will make them  call you names,

But someday, I'll buy you a ticket to Rome.

 

I'm loving you, even without seeing you yet,

But if you can't love me back, I'll understand,

And if you cant keep me, then I'll suggest,

That you hand me over into safe hands.

 

Moreover, remember I could also take your soul,

Or spare you, and then occupy your conscience,

Damage and regret might also take their tolls,

And you'll wish you didn't do this violence!

 

But if with this, you still shut your ears,

Then I'll go back to God and tell him everything!

And after your journey, after your years,

You'll have to tell Him why you deprived me of living!

 

Don't kill that baby!

Stop abortion now!

Have mercy please!

 

 

-Temi

 

 

Happily Never After

 

 

'This journey wont have a happy ending!',

Kingsley stared at the picture of their wedding.

He should have known before saying 'I do',

Now he was sure his dreams won't come true.

 

How did he get himself into this mess?!

And signed his lifetime into the ingress?

He had tripped for her beauty and poise,

And the enchanting grace of her voice.

 

Their courtship: sweet like music from a piano,

The aftermath: a marriage like a towering inferno!

His lovely Angelina now quarrels, pesters and nags,

And wouldn't yield even if he raised a white flag.

 

So he has started an affair with his secretary; Vivien,

Though he knows he is supposed to be a Christian

But well, that is his solace from this conjugal disaster;

This frustrating contract of Happily Never After!

 

 

 

-Temi

The Corper Diaries (Pt 6) - Scenes from Camp

We had a sort of radio station on camp called 'the Orientation Broadcasting Service (OBS)'. Members of the OBS are usually selected from graduates of Mass Communications and are mostly exempted from some of the camp activities. Plus, whenever it was time for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, they don't wait in line like the rest of us but go straight to the head of the queues and flash their card to get served straight.

Then there were our medical colleagues; the doctors and pharmacists in the camp clinic. Yes, they tried with whatever drugs and whatnot were available to them. However, whenever the hands of illness hovered over me (once or twice), the mere thought of going to the camp clinic combined with the delicious awesomeness of the oranges, apples and watermelons I buy at Aunty Bola's fruit place is more than enough to make me well again. I mean, I refused to be one of the guinea pigs of my medical colleagues in their quest to get better. But please, if you feel under the weather, abeg go see your doctor oh! No follow my orange and watermelon prescription otherwise, you are on your own. It was grace that saw me through.

There were also the MDG people. MDG stands for Millenium Development Goals. Theirs is to tackle pertinent issues such as illiteracy, health, etc. A lot of corps members joined the MDG on camp. They would go on to start or join MDG community development groups (CD groups) wherever they are posted. Then there was the Martial Band. They were the people called upon to play for parades. Justus was in the band. He even became no. 3 in the hierarchy, he was that good. It was a thing of pride to belong to the band. Most of them got posted to 'civilized' areas (Ilorin majorly, then Offa) unlike most of the rest of us that got one village or the other. Joining MDG and the Band is all well and good but not my kind of thing.

We also had games and sporting activities. It gives me great pride to say that my own participation consisted of clapping and cheering. My platoon managed to go far in both football and volleyball; we lost the semis in football and lost the finals in volleyball (which was played by the females). My passion on camp was dance and drama. All the platoons were also to compete in dance and drama and the best team/squad/group would become part of the state cultural troupe.

A quick sidenite on how we get divided into platoons. When a fresh otondo arrives at camp, at the point of registration, s/he gets the orientation kit and a state code number. The orientation kit consists of the NYSC bye-laws, a language guidebook on the languages predominant in that part of the country then 2 sets of white vests with white shorts, 2 pairs of white socks, a pair of jungle boots, a pair of white tennis shoes then one set of the khaki uniform with one NYSC crested vest and one cap. The state code comprises of the state's initials/short code followed by the batch and year then the individual's given number e.g KW/13B/069. The last digit of the state code determines an otondo's platoon.

Back to the drama and dance, I was one of the 5 guys who showed interest in dance and drama. Yeah sure, during rehearsals, tempers flared and arguments rose but we settled and overall, it was great fun! Some of our songs were hilarious and our dance steps were so good that other platoons' dance groups would pretend to walk past our rehearsal spot to make calls or some other such nonsense whereas their true motives were to spy our moves. Indeed, on the nights of the competition, many of their steps were modelled on ours and in some instances, were exact replicas of our moves. No wahala, God dey watch everything.

There were other competitions such as the Mr Macho and Miss NYSC where each platoon had to send a representative. We won the Miss NYSC competition. As to the Mr Macho, the sight of all those manly pectorals and packs would have sent me into a wild fit of jealousy if not for the fact that Cynthia held my attention for most of the night of that particular competition. The hall was crowded so we spent most of the time just outside in the dark areas doing........ You want to know? I am not telling!! We didn't do any bad thing oh but, a gentleman doesn't tell his secrets.

The 21 days on camp were coming to an end. Most of us looked forward to seeing our homes again. Some had already planned to lodge with their boy/girlfriends with the money we would be paid at the end of our stay on camp. And for some, most of the money would go to paying off accumulated debts at the mammy market. Seriously, that place can eat your money completely if you no wise up. Anyways, all that is a story for another page. Till that story comes knocking, keep calm and obey the clarion call!

Oluwsina Niran
https://www.facebook.com/niranneil?fref=ts

The Amazon

 

 

This woman is one in a million!

The Holy Book says she is virtuous,

 And I also call her an Amazon;

She is so strong and courageous.

You need to meet her in person,

But mind you, she's anonymous;

Comes in any shape height or complexion,

Drilled to be diligent and zealous

She subsists in any condition

Intellectually speaking, she's a genius!

And I wont forget to make mention,

Of how she wisely selects her caucus.

She clearly states her vision and mission

Never keeps company with the unserious,

Peer pressure won't waive her determination.

You can't buy her heart even with your Lexus,

She prefers to labour for her remuneration,

And she'd rather perspire to fill her purse.

Now this woman really deserves a medallion,

And you would say she is very rare, of course,

But all she needs is our activation;

Dear sisters, this Amazon lies within us.

 

-Temi

 

 

The Devil In The Bottle

 

 

I can hear the hysterical screams again!

I'm sure it's Evelyn writhing in pain,

Victimized by the plagues of her husband's bane;

An addiction from which he can't refrain.

 

 Adam comes home very late at night,

Heavily drunk and high as a kite,

And sometimes falls asleep under the streetlights,

And the gutters color his shirt the opposite of white.

 

So he would beat Evelyn into a pulp,

Crash on the floor and take more gulps,

Then fall asleep after baritone hiccups,

Leaving a big mess for her to clean up.

 

Friends urged her to leave, but to no avail,

She chooses to stay and face her travails,

Believing her beloved Adam is only off the rail,

So she keeps praying that change will prevail.

 

When he awakens, he begs her to forgive his rattles,

That his undoing is the handwork of the devil.

I just hope they win this desperate battle

Against the reckless 'devil' in the bottle.

 

-Temi

 

The Corper Diaries (Pt. 5) - When I say "SAED!", you say "OSUPA!!"

Remember when I wrote about our sessions in the big hall? Those were sessions to teach corps members entrepreneurial skills as under the Skills Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development program (SAED). The camp authorities in their knowledge and wisdom mandated every one of us to attend it and those there were some wonderful skills to learn, there is only word to describe SAED: BOORRRRIINGGG!!!!

When the SAED program started, one of the camp authorities talked about the aims, objectives and merits of SAED (I can't remember a single thing of what he said to this day). The different skill classes under the program were announced and it was announced that attendance would be taken at all the classes. There was bead-making and wirework, cosmetology, tailoring, ICT training, food processing and snack-making, and one skill that had to do with wires. I didn't pay attention so I have no idea what the wires are for. Oh yes, there was also a class on HSE! Yeah, I think that sums it up.

In the days following that first day, I and Justus (my bunk neighbour) were trying one class after another. We had tried sneaking back into our 'dorm' but, no luck with the vigilance of the soldiers around. So we were looking for the class with minimum stress. According to the camp authorities, we would get certificates after having a 6-time attendance at our chosen class. I and Justus would sit in a class for a while, sign attendance then look for another one when it got boring.

The first class we went for was HSE. When the man began talking about buying a particular book and registering for the course with 15000, we disappeared fast! (Ahan, allowee don get budget even if e never enter and book no dey budget abeg!). Then we went to the snack and food-processing class and nibbled on samples which the woman passed round to illustrate the lesson she was teaching. We looked at each other and said, yeah..this is the class we want, and we settled to enjoy the class that day.

The following day, we went back to the food class the following day and got the news; we were to pay 300 naira to get forms then pay 10000 naira for the full course on food processing, cake baking and other snacks. We considered paying the 300 naira but then we remembered the food from the camp's kitchen which was closely followed by thoughts of Calabar Kitchen's heavenly culinary delicacies. Calabar Kitchen won the decision! That's how we quietly excused ourselves and went to the ICT class where we stayed for the duration of the SAED program.

At the ICT class, I was looking forward to learn Adobe photoshop even if it's theoretically. Lo and behold, the man began to talk about Microsoft Excel and Word and how to open Windows; things I learnt in JSS3. Imagine my shock after all the anticipation! I promised myself that I won't pay attention to whatever the man said but wait to collect certificate. Justus listened more than I did. Cynthia was at the bead-making and wirework class and she took it very seriously; i was proud of her. For the duration of my attendance at the ICT class, I either dozed or browsed. Infact I downloaded so many songs without disturbance, I was almost sorry when the program ended.

For prospective corps members who would read this, if SAED is still on, please pay attention. And when you hear "SAED!", you should say "OSUPA!!" but if dem catch you, no be me advice you oh! Still, you might learn a few things. Either that or you download a lot of songs. As for me, I am not complaining. I still enjoy the songs I downloaded during those sessions and right now, I want to enjoy 'Durosoke' by Olamide. I'll write about some of the social activities on camp later. In the words of Baddo, "I can’t shout oro po ninu iwe kobo//Body no be fire wood mi o de n se robot"

By Oluwasina Niran
https://www.facebook.com/niranneil?fref=ts

Grace Was Here

 

 

He had been a man of fame; the man called Wilson,

But now he felt useless like a phone with no network.

Twas his second decade running in the city prison,

Full blooded Nigerian, but born and bred in New York

 

Wilson was born with the proverbial silver spoon,

He'd never tasted sorrow, nor known any abjection,

But he'd suffered the needy and misused the boon,

Now he paid the price with utmost dejection.

 

His wife had died, autopsy revealed she was poisoned,

And police investigation stated he was the culprit.

In jail, he'd cry all day, that his countenance got crimsoned,

For he knew nothing of this crime that turned him a lifetime convict.

 

Agnostic all his life, he never believed in the Almighty,

But now he vividly understood the reason for the lesson;

There is truly a cosmocrat: a Supreme Deity,

And He'd put him behind bars, to meet Him in person.

 

And then it happened, a very strange miracle;

Twenty years into detention, his case was revisited,

The jailer had ordered them to remove his shackles,

Because the judge declared him 'discharged and acquitted!'

 

So before he left, he requested for a piece of chalk,

And on the prison wall he wrote bold and clear;

I have beheld him not, but have seen His handwork,

And though i deserved it not, but Grace was here!

 

Temi

 

Ija Lo De

 

 

Ija Lo De

 

What went wrong with us, my beloved friend?

I cant believe our friendship has reached a dead end

Birds of the same feather that flocked together

Have now become foes that prey on each other...

Ija Lo De!

 

We kepts our secrets safe and sacred

But the love we shared has become sheer hatred

I always had your shoulders to cry on

But our one plus one no longer equals one...

Ija Lo De!

 

Nevertheless, Ore Mi, I still love you

And I'll die of loneliness, please come to my rescue

For if we separate, how shall we fight another?

 Please come back and let's be friends forever...

 

Ija lo de lorin d'owe (when there's a quarrel, songs become proverbial).

 

Temi

 

Lyrics: Castorvill – Am On || @Castorvill

 

its castor, flyer than the kites/
a Gods son,
yes am balling with the best/
king i play every time on your deck/
now the whole world waiting for what ever i do next//2x

VERSE 1.
itz time i face ma fucking problems lyk i was Kendrick Lemar or drake/
asap rocky i swear ama give it what it takes/
so am chilling in the studio with pals friends and sum milkshake/
YEAH/
Cause am as bloody’ as a lady in the first stage of pms/
seen gurls so bad all they do is pee a mess/
well am trying to let it all out will i am britney spears/
lyk a guy with indigestion they always bring me mess/
its all about me and the way i kit/
lyk a boxer just got hit i spray my spit/
you wanna see the real dude with skills/
holla at ur boy its cast to the vill/
on the path to his millz/
‘addicted to the game’ just lyk a shark to hiz mealz/
the lyrical assassin,,,,//

…………………..CHORUS

VERSE2…….
so you dont hear ma spit am aggravated/ life is hard so mastarbate it/
suck ma dick fags why debate/
am spitting ill barz thats my fate/
striving on to make a hit
nothing short’ of blunts or splints
picking’ on vets too i swear that ish no be beans/
so leave the fucking moment dont you blow it lyk ma old chick/
who thought that shii was easy cause she got it so quick/
bt am cray word on the street is that am so sick/
murked beat escaped life just to show am slick/
its castor so slick on the beat/
the deepest thing since potholes to ever hit the street/
the master rhyme schemes are so deep/
rest the lyrical assassin…….//

CHORUS

VERSE3……..
all this rhyming mastery figured am crazed lyk sum twisted patients/
am climbing past all this ruggerz and raising ma list of patrons/
its time we start to deliver ma age of sophistication/
you wanna get a vindication from the king of raps station/
you gonna get a lobotomy call me the rap scientist/
you wanna take a shot on me cool in fact i insist/
for fun i break a lot of ribs all your kins cry and miss/
so run and get an hysterectomy you goons back trying this/
game
new rules and tactics apply to remain/
you fools who chat sick are writing in vain/
you goons who act sleek then try to sustain/
your name and virtually claim…../
to be clever guys your lines and barz seem miniscule/
to ever tried at rhyming 13 syllables/
to ever rhyme for rhyme z absurdly miniscule/
never mind ur type aint worth been ridiculed
huhnnnn
new spit yeah its cool am d dope dude sipping Pepsi from Micheals hair/
in the street where you never could tell what would sell/
so am still disrupting your PEACE lyk babalawo threats/ #piss
its castor, flyer than the kites/
a Gods son,
yes am balling with the best/
king i play every time on your deck/
now the whole world waiting for what ever i do next//2x
and you already know where i came from,
the street where glocks spit ills….
niggurz am on, come on,am on, come on am on ,,,

its castor
fade out….

Download The Song Here:
http://wikistarz.com/hot-music-castorvill-am-on/

Follow On — Twitter: @Castrvill || Bbm pin-25FEC654

Songs and Lyrics By Adeyemi Soowoo Castorvill
https://www.facebook.com/castorvill?fref=ts

 

 

The Four-Letter-Words

Some say they cant define it,
Some say they cant seem to find it,
Some say they've been victims of its deceit,
Some say; for them, it's been an orbit.

Some say it is calm and placid,
Some say it burns like acid,
Some conclude it never succeeds,
Some testify it exists indeed.

Fairytales teacher told me in nursery class;
Cinderella walked on broken glass,
Belle had it for a beast, a total dumbass,
Snow White found hers in a coffin of glass.

Yet it's all fiction, so i heard,
But if life itself is a fairytale, why is it hard,
To find it, since we need it so bad?
Praying it finds us too with hopes so bland.

But whether it has healed us or given us wart,
Encouraged or made our optimisms thwart,
Its existence is still an irrefutable fact,
And the only place to find it, is in our hearts.

The four letter words: LOVE.

-Temi

I Owe Him Big!

I pay obeisance to the Immaculate,
His goodness i have come to appreciate
The one true judge; incorruptible magistrate,
To Him, no king or monarch can dictate
Beside Him, there is no duplicate,
I am one of the wonderful works He did create
To protect me, His angels He did delegate.
My going out and coming in He always regulates,
Any enemy that troubles me He incinerates,
I never hunger, for He fills my plate,
He prepares my table such that my enemies salivate
Because He loves me so, i celebrate
He promises if i do His mandate,
His finest estate to me He will allocate
He is so kind, forever His mercies rotate.
Sometimes, my shortcomings the devil insinuates
But God defends me, He has always been my advocate
That my foot be moved, He will never tolerate
His examples i would really love to imitate
He is so good, His mercies never depreciate
For in my being, His glory radiates,
It's so obvious, i dont need to indicate.
Whenever my problems to Him i relate
With alacrity, He usually eradicates,
He gives solution and immediately activates.

I always marvel at His capablity,
I usually wonder at His sheer majesty
He is glamorous and glorious in royalty
He is ever supreme; older than any antiquity
He never changes, He maintains His stability
He is Kabiesi, He bows to no authority.
Yet He so much values and teaches humility.
Ever constant God, i commend His durability
He is always able, He depicts possibility.
If He has had to count my every atrocity,
And keep record of my reckless impunity
And note my life's blemishes and impurity
Then i would have been a victim of fatal brutality
Of disaster and havoc i would be a casualty,
And be a candidate of great calamity.
But despite all these He took responsibility
To care for me, I have been His liability.
He overlooks my disobedience and proximity
And still gives me grace to abondon my futility.
The devil knows this and has been so crafty,
He knows my fears and sees my timidity
So he keeps me out of touch with reality
But my Creator has given me a sense of ability,
To crown it, He also made me witty
With confidence to overcome my insecurity
Now i'm bold to conquer all enmity!
I owe Him big and swear to Him my loyalty;
To proclaim His goodness and greatness in every city!

- Temi

HyPnOtIz€d

How did u make me fall for you, my dear pen?
You've made the white paper our garden of Eden!
Whenever we're together, my world is like Shangri La,
You express my feelings, you explain my logic,
It makes you bleed, yet for me you still work magic,
Unconsciously, I have come to depend on you like a pillar.

I had to ditch my first love, your brother; the pencil,
Though we're still friends, but it's you i love for real,
I just cant help it, i'm hypnotized by you, i must confess,
You've stolen my heart since i heard you're mightier than the sword,
Sounds interesting, but i don't aspire to be a battlelord,
I just value your strength, without u i'll be a damsel in distress.

Poems, stories, quotes...and many more you help me write,
Though sometimes you blot, fade and you don't do it right,
But imperfection is beauty, so i overlook your mistakes,
We'll always be together, rain or shine, fade or blot,
You'll always complement me, a leopard cannot change it's spots,
Cos i know you'll take me places, cos you've got all it takes.

I've had no other better companion than you my dear pen, and indeed, you're mightier than the sword!

-Temi

What Became of Them?

He was in love and she was in love,
Day by day their love did evolve,
Every nite, on the hill, they looked up to d stars above,
And seasoned every moment like a garlic clove.

And it happened one night so cold,
That the lady waited for her lover to behold,
Up and down the hill she trod,
And watched events of the night unfold.

Her face gloomed with emotional torture,
The growing heaviness in her heart was without measure,
For the memories they shared she'd always treasure,
But out into the enticing world her lover had ventured.

With pain in her heart, knowing he had gone astray,
From their love nest she slowly walked away,
And what became of them? I never can say,
Perhaps destiny might bring them back together someday.

-Temi

The Corper Diaries (Pt. II) - Na who go tire?

Whew!! Those drills no be here o!! It was fun but rigorous.. The rope climbs, the crawling under the wire, swinging like a monkey.. It was fun!! But I am jumping ahead of myself. Allow me to take it sequentially..
After I heard the shrill blasts of the whistle, I ran out of my 'dorm' to join my platoon on the march to the Man-O-War Village.. We were paired with Platoon 4 (I am in Platoon 2, did I mention that?) and we were all dressed in white; our Otondo uniform as we marched along to the morale-heightening (and laughter- inducing) songs of the Man-O-War people.. One of their songs goes like this:

Dem go born mumu, Dem go born mumu
If Soja marry Corper, dem go born mumu
Dem go born monkey, dem go born monkey
If Corper marry Corper, dem go born
monkey

Well, I don't intend to marry a soldier so those lyrics won't work for me. One favourite of mine was like a Call and Response chant. They would call out, "Na who go tire?" We would reply, "Na you go tire!" or "Man-O-War go tire".. We went on like this, jogging, marching with the occasional giggle at the lyrics and chants till we got to the Man-O-War village..
They showed us the various training courses and explained the ways they intended to drill us.. Then they divided us into little groups and assigned us to instructors to take us through each training course.. The first one involved us lifting weights and counting.. Sadly, Cynthia didn't look my way even once when I was pulling the cement weights..
After pulling weights (where my arms felt like Sisyphus' after rolling his boulder up the hill.. Greek mythology), we ran to the next course which involved lifting oneself up and down from a metal bar.. Then some sit-ups and so on.. By the time we were done, joints were aching, our whites were very stained and dirty and I, for one, was ready to collapse..
They bid us march back to the main camp as we were through for the morning session.. After lunch we would proceed back to the village for further drilling..

I need to take a little nap here.. The amala and ewedu we had for lunch plus the aches and pains all over my body warrants it.. Dem no send me work to participate in everything but, every experience always leads to a story.. And I want the pages of my life to be an interesting read.. Abeg I go continue de tori when I wake.. For now? I have to crash!!

By Oluwasina Niran
https://www.facebook.com/niranneil?fref=ts

The Wanna Be

Why pretend? Why feign that inexisting attitude?
You just cant be yourself and show God gratitude,
You've turned a Wanna Be cos u need to blend with the multitude,
You fake and pretend just to live at high altitude.

Crazy looks and appearance, all in the name of swaggs,
Your likes call it fashion and trend, i call it rags,
Just like your pair of trousers, your life sags,
I know you're proving levels, but far behind you lag.

A Wanna Be is so blind, never sees the future,
Cos in every show of class, he'd always love to feature,
Partyin all night, spending the afternoon at leisure,
Forming strange accent, like someone with a brain seizure.

Will you open your eyes and retreat from this suicide mission,
Cos u'll self-destruct, as long as you lack vision,
Yes, u wanna be popular like that star on television,
But your failure and doom will cut you like an incision.

Be original, be real, never be a Wanna Be,
Or you'll always be a learner, notin wey u go sabi,
Boast of your personality, dont be a timid tabby,
A Wanna Be keeps wishing, but they never get to be.

Be yourself, you are special, you are peculiar!

- Temi

The Phantom

And it came again; the ugly, scary phantom,
It's source and course i couldn't seem to fathom,
With my heart racing, and my guts running behind,
It dwelled down deep, in the depth of my mind.

My fears were high, like the tower of a belfry,
All my defences it always seemed to defy,
For he visits me on the sly, playing hide and seek,
Sometimes i'm caught unawares and in fright i shriek!

What a ugly, scary being; like a bull he bellows,
Sometimes he booms like a dane gun, what a crazy fellow!
He bullied and frightened me, robbed me of my meals,
Often appearing in the highway, making me take to my heels!

And who shall get rid of this crooked monster,
That haunts and rids me of my joy and laughter?
Then i said to my grief-stricken self; 'yes you can',
Only you can chase away this ghost, and even impose a ban!

So with courage, i broke the bizarre wicked bond,
And to the call of joy and freedom, i began to respond,
Yes, i sentenced that beast to the pit of no return,
Thus, the 'Shaggy-dog-Story' of the phantom became forlorn....
.
.
Yes. my greatest fear; my phobia; the phantom...is now extinct.

-Temi

Eureka! I found it! (Poem)

Let me delight to scream out loud, eureka!
I was made for this, thanks to my maker
I made it, my success booms like a firecracker
And my fame, it zooms like a fastwalker! 

I thirsted for so long to find my niche,
Anxiety thrust my heart, it made a breach
I longed for success, it was beyond my reach,
Confused, i seemed to have lost my power of speech!

Thought of giving up, but i had a strong will,
Could hardly let go cos i have a nerve of steel,
And with determination i struggled uphill,
Then God intervened and took the wheel.

Silly me, impatience had become my staple diet,
For i kept complaining; aren't we there yet?
But God hushed me and said; keep quiet!
It wont help if you continue to fret.

Then he lifted me up from the ground,
Glittering from afar, my destiny i found,
Wow! It's glamour and beauty held me spellbound,
Now you don't have to wondey why i'm screaming out loud...

Eureka! I found it!

-Temi

MAAMI!

Who else can be like maami?
Her strength is more than that of an army!
My mother wasn't a monarch but she wore a crown,
the most beautiful woman i've ever seen, never with a frown. 


When people say to me, 'Tope you are a genius',
i tell them; you need to have seen/heard my mum, oh Jesus!
she was gifted in action, words and in deeds
and in anything she endeavoured she'd always succeed. 

She brought me down to this world with all her power,
in pain and agony, the effort nearly killed her,
but at last when she had her baby girl
her joy knew no bounds, more than words could tell.

Grateful that she won the battle, she was compelled
to name her baby girl Temitope,
and through my infant years i danced with my mother,
rocked and cuddled in her bossom so tender.

But alas! death did waltz her away from me,
like a blur, so swift, for reasons i could hardly see,
you needed to have heard me bawl, scream and shout,
for as little as i was, my mother's love i knew i cant do without. 

Though your departure a nightmare it seems,
it gladdens my heart that i still see you in my dreams
and no matter what happens, i cross my heart mum,
i'll stay strong and be the woman you always wanted me to become. 

I promise to make you proud maami! 

{dedicated to my mum, Juliana Adebola Oke of blessed memory}

MY DREAMS

I sat next to his bed in sorrow
With hope that he would awaken tomorrow
I touched his palm but lo and behold,
It felt stiff, pale and cold!
My heart burst, tears oozing out
'This isn't real', I murmured in doubt
I retreated to a corner away from him
The night was so dark, scary and dim
My mind wasn't ready for this reality,
With the thought of being a victim of such cruelty

He always gave me courage to overcome
Not minding how lazy I had grown to become
How could I let him die!
I couldn't help but ask why!
My hopes, the dream of my life was dead,
And I was convinced that was the end
Fear overwhelmed me like a chronic disease,
Now what do I do with the remains of the deceased?
I sat and stared into the thick darkness
Oh death! How could you be so heartless?!


Soon, out came the morning sun in all of its grace
Its rays caught the smile on my bereavement's face
My mind gradually began accepting the ugly Truth;
My beloved dream has returned to its roots
I began to offer him the last prayer
Reviving the wonderful moments we spent together
Tears of guilt kept oozing from my eyes
How on earth could I let my beloved die?!
I took his hand and kissed him on the forehead
How I wish I could raise him from the dead!

I carefully placed him in a casket, adorned it,
Placed the flowers of our memories on it
And foot by foot, in a barren land I digged his grave
As quick as I could, for the wind was beginning to rave.
I lowered him in, but realized he would feel lonely
For my precious dream, a grave would not be homely
So I carried his casket down to the ocean
Hurried down the shore, for it would be a rainy morn.
But oh no! Wouldn't he be eaten by fish?
If he could speak to me, that would be against his wish

So I took him and trekked into the forest
I felt If i could incinerate him, then his ashes would rest
I prepared a crematory pyre to perform the rite
I believed the best resting place would be this site
But as I was about to light the pyre
I realized he won't be able to bear the heat of the fire!
Again I carried him down to the mountain cave
I was rest assured it would be the best grave
But silly me! The lions will surely eat him up
It would be such a demeaning burial, so I gave up!

I held the casket in my arms, wondering what to do
Sweet dream, how can I give a befitting burial to you?
I returned home with the remains and kept thinking
Time was running out , darkness was approaching
I felt tired, it was already the late hours of the night
Then suddenly, the room was invaded by divine light
It was the image of my dream floating in silver white
So amazing, never seen anything shine so bright
Then I realized, the only resting place for my dreams is my heart
Only then can he be reborn, live again and spring out.

-Temi

 

 

Da Mei Locus Standi

Give me a place to stand and I'll move the world
I don't have to do or say much, just one word,
Love: if we have this we'll be in one accord
I'm not talking about cars but we got to move forward. 

I've gotten rid of my fears: good riddance to bad rubbish!
I never accept defeat, though sometimes I'm childish,
Just give me the opportunity, my strength i will unleash
Cos I'm that good report the world would love to publish.

It's easier said than done but I'd rather get it done
Hardwork never kills, for me it's a lot of fun
Cos it goads me on and makes me strong on the long run
I'm not strong enough, but half bread is better than none

If only u could let me be the raindrop on your window pane,
If only you would let me in your heart and heal your pain,
I'm the change the world needs, I know it sounds insane
Yes, they've done it before but I'll do it again.

Da mei locus standi, monos mei et terra labora
{Give me a place to stand, and I'll move the world}.