MONEY by OLOLADE ABIOLA BAKARE
Whatever you want, you get.
But where is the Money to spend?
You are useful but,
Children and Family
Health and education
Food and transport.
Night and day.
Church and Mosque.
In the Lord’s name.
You’re needed everywhere.
Life is tough without you.
Nothing comes easy without
Where art thou?
You are as hard;
As a nut to crack.
Our problems are like my mother’s paying
Will you desert the commoners like that?
Yet theirs is a life of beaded needs.
To all money-proprietors…
NATURE by QUEEN ESTHER OYEBODE
Let the mountain stand in pride,
let the oceans roll and tide,
let the trees wave their side,
fall in summer when they are dried.
Let the breeze reel and ride,
let the animals play and hide,
let the moon above us guide,
the groom to the arm of his bride.
Stars above us there reside,
like Gold, gold in our eyes divide,
let the earth where we abide,
give us good harvest dignified.
Green, green, green inside,
beautiful colours that we can’t hide,
sky and earth has solely replied,
natural beauty we show with pride.
THE VERDICT by AGBAAKIN AMIABLE JERRY
The garment of innocence is torn.
Virtues have faltered.
Son of noble birth.
Where is your chastity?
Bound in his killing fists with steel.
Led to the jailyard.
I mourn you!
The Magistrate says:
‘Are you guilty or inculpable”
A speckle of suspense glows on everyone’s
Followed by quakes.
From my heart.
The looks of perplexity on the Barristers.
Everybody adjusts his buttocks on the
Visible thread of sweat courses down the
with verbal dexterity.
But with a soul defiled with Criminality.
‘NO,I Am NOT’
An admix of confusion and suprise.
Thirty minute Recess.
Everybody looks upon the tree of Justice
For an apple fall.
The limbs of Law have paralyzed?
To sanction Criminality.
‘Break’ is over.
The guardian of the Law enters the verdict
Not for the Judge.
But for the arrival of Blind Justice.
The defendant pouted his bare chest.
Popped out his fiery eyes.
Slapping Justice on his face.
With on impunity.
His counsel argues weakly.
And dived into realms of fallacy.
The prosecutor vehemented and wooed
The Magistrate looks down and frowns.
‘My hands are tied’Said he.
Woe to Audu,woe to criminality.
Woe to larceny and carnage.
Bound to his teeth to the Jailyard.
And jubilatory sighs seek the air.
THE TERRIBLE PAIN by Queen Esther Oyebode
Inhuman, Is it not?
Provocative, still it hurts,
the terrible pain,
that made her insane,
she was caught unaware,
with her hands flying in the air,
her head spinning clockwise in despair,
screams now heard in short whispers,
eyes bloodshot, legs blood-stained.
Her pride has been stolen.
Stolen?? Yes,it has been stolen,
without her conscent,
an arbitrary decision
made by people whose thoughts
are of their own pleasure,
forgetting the plight of the masses,
the pain and anguish they have put them to
death rates increasing
the economy’s finances continually
people meant to hold the system,
decides to turn it over,
their personal hunger,
getting everything for themselves,
reaping off the pride of the society
and tha goodwill
meant for all!!!
PETALS by Agbaakin Amiable Jerry on Saturday, November 3, 2012
As i stand on the lonely roads.
I gazed enchanted by nature’s fold.
The flowers wave their summer petals.
Nature chains me with its crystillic metals.
I lay down my heavy thoughts on nature’s bed.
My burdened heart cared less about life’s bend.
But a greater burden refused to let go.
Hanging like Sword of Damocles over my soul.
I felt ostracized in a world of the three-thousand crowd.
I felt robbed in a world innundated with opulence.
Of beauty and wisdom crying aLoud.
I run ahead the sprinters but cant see the finishing line yet.
I feel deserted in a world laced with an hate for myself.
I cease being myself.
Losing what i am,coveting other’s.
Blaming the Creator,accursing my being born.
So the petals drilled me and showed me wisdom.
For to be an achiever is not by efforts.
But by blend of ability and luck.
The petals of the rose though unmoving.
Yet,they are contended with their sprightly beauty.
And never succumb to the overwhelming gaiety of the Lycidas.
AT THE MID-WAY by AGBAAKIN AMIABLE JERRY
It is at the midway when we are entangled.
A moment of perplexity surges.
Like blood in a damaged blood vessel.
It is at the mid-way when the landscape.
Of our destination pops up its hidden
Placing the soul in a dilemma so
Where the facade of our home gleams
swiftly across the ruptured mind.
I apologize,Fate,but i cant go back.
For a man knows how to draw the line.
Only a real man will resist the urge.
To erase the mark rid of precision.
And inexistent accuracy.
So,here I come disturbed.
Stirred by the endless movement of the
For to go back is a nightmare.
Yet the destination is unknown.
Wreathed in its mystical mystery.
One day,i will reach there.
And smile at the remembrance of the mid-
TRAFFIC OF THE SOUL by AGBAAKIN AMIABLE JERRY
Everyday i go on with my way.
I carry on with dismay.
My heart beats fast swift.
But it’s not my heart that is ill built.
It’s certainly my ambition for adventure.
All paths culminate in a confused juncture.
Such is the way of man.
I look over the seas and land.
I hold a constant gaze at the night stars.
None can match the gay corals.
But i have never beheld a city’s rigmarole.
In a city called Soul.
You will see herds of migrants.
Who grace wont grant..
Many streets run on it.
It has the most convoluted traffic.
A bunch of caustic vehic wardens.
Undermining orderlines and sanity.
If my soul has traffic lights.
Then i wont ruminate on it’s diurne night.
Every murky matters will spring
Alas!My soul has no such magic armament.
So everyday I go on with the dismay.
Groping about the monstrous dark.
Falling with no solace to hack.
With no skill within my hold.
To scheme the tortuos roads.
To predict the raging of the sea.
To be what i want to be.
ODE TO HARMATTAN by AGBAAKIN AMIABLE JERRY
In these days when the sky is mournful.
When the atmosphere is hung in an
obligatory shroud of mist.
Red lips change to white.
Hot water becomes frozen cold.
Children suddenly develop hate for the
E’en the adults shirk their ablutionaries.
Man’s skin becomes dry and scaly and when
Golden roofs turn dusty.
Tarred roads wear sheath of rust and crust.
Like the horns of dinousaurs in a feast.
Pleasure it is to cloak in furry coverings at
And ridiculously rip them off at noons.
The sheperds whistle merrily under the
The mountains crack with your sting.
The vale and the heavens become
You blow from the north to the south.
You journey defying all odds.
Through the Sahel Savannah down to the
tropical forest you sojourn.
You loath the mildness of Atlantic.
Thou art outwitted by its craftiness.
And flee into the Sahara when it is APRIL.
FACEBOOK by AGBAAKIN AMIABLE JERRY
I am always facebookin on the street.
Wont get comfort if i dont tweet.
I mingle with guys and chicks.
Never consider my fleeting time with
When mama announces lunch.
You find me in a munch.
Not munch of a cake or bread.
But engrossed in this enchanted thread.
Commuters do complain about my
Oh how i condemn their negligence.
Facebook!when will i be wrestled from your
When would i ever gain my own leverage?
Please i appeal to you facebookers.
Can you give me hint and clue.
To break free from this ‘bue.
I am into you facebook.
Like a fisherman to the brook.
Who can save me from your sweetness.
I doubt if ever there is one.