LORD OF THE DEVIL

The Creator had declared
On that fateful day
Behold, the man is become
As one of us to know good and evil
An enlightenment of doom

Who art thou greatest Villain?
Who hath beget thee?
Nothing like the Holy one
In whom is no guile
Where art thy sordid abode?

Thou art torment the world
Shaken the heavenlies to offend
Should I stand in awe of you?
Oh little fruit
sealed in that tree in our perfect garden

Oh beautiful Lucifer
Programmed with  pristine virtues
The pride of the heavenlies
Bought by the greatest villain to wanton displays
Did thou taste of the fruit also?

The villain hath set its eyes to overthrow
Needing a vessel to possess
Lucifer himself to present to the vile one
His programme to alter
In that abominable encounter

Greatest villain
The heavenlies sure knew thee
Banished into that fruit
Lord of the devil
Robed in sinful scarlet

WHEAT AND TARES

Tonight will I die again
Butchered by corporeal fear
Behind these bars I anticipate
The scary horror of the gallows

I die like this every night
Buried in my coffin of tears
Startled out of nightmares
By the crushing boots of the jailers

Night and morning
Do I see the noose dangle
Hear the innocent shriek
Feel my body go limp

Being at the right place
Well at the wrong time
Handed the capital punishment
With Habeas Corpus mocked

No attorney to plead my cause
For what? regretably I don't know
Kidnapped by the state
Without trial for eternity

The wheat and tares
From seven to seven do they burn
Many plead not guilty
But falls to the stone heart of the noose

ODE TO THE MOLUE

Oh brakeless colossus of the road!
Never tired of an overload
Bears like a hulk its crazy compartments thoroughly filled up
Even greedily to the roof top

Oh king of the express!Its rickety and haggard frame
Not a barrier to its fame
As it commands respect
From the road worthy elects

Its rider gazes with eyes blood-Shot
Syndrome of dry gin of several shots
Dishing out threats
With foul breathe

The commuters stuffed and packaged
Sometimes seeing the potholes on the expresssway
Through holes in punctured metallic floor
An omen of an imminent wreckage

As it towers high
As the king sitting on the throne of woes
With souls hanging from its wings
It devours in its own time

He never asks for his own share of the fares
From the greedy collectors
Neither does he care about their welfare
For he collects his bloody royalty in due time

STEPS

What man knoweth a treasure spot
Like a blind bat he traverses
The bright dark tunnel of life
The Omniscient orders the steps
He knoweth the numbers

Where the benefactors tread
The spot of ambush of marauders
No bat knoweth save the steps that lead either way
The gazelle falls under the paws of a lion
And the lion thanks his step but the doomed prey?

Maybe 250 steps will take me to a setting of doom
I pray to trek 2 less steps
An unnecessary tantrum will do
A failure of the alarm clock then I welcome
To solve the life equation

It's always like a coincidence
When you want to take garri
Then you walk past a coconut tree
Only for a Coconut to drop after taking a step forward
You give thanks for protection and food

You sluggard! perhaps 1000 steps
Will lead you to your goldmine
But like a snail you took 2000
You damned! always in a hurry
You took  10 hurried steps into that bus of waste

You hasty fella!
You needed 50 steps to meet
The bones of your bones
But then you took 20
Ending up with the bones of your pains

This mysterious mathematician
Calculates life and death
Success and failure
One good step at a time
Just will do

RAISED FOR THE GALLOWS

He wiped his soaked brows
With his concrete hard hands
For many hopeful vain years
Of course laying claim
To only two sweat worn out shirts

He paid those excruciating fees
With his balanced diet
Fed that mouth with hot beads of sweat
Clothed that body from meagre wages
And guarded him with his life

Where is the price of bitter sowing?
Becoming nothing
To raise the seed of hope
Praying Demeter smiles
At this fruitful doomed seed

The sun shone brightly for harsh years
As the seed grew into a tree
Hope yes beautiful hope for the sower
Days of succor are nigh
For my tired vibrating hands

The nation calls for the tree
To taste its fruits for just a dozen month
While the callers have their Irokos and Mahoganies
Thriving well in fertile faraway farms
The sower lets go reluctantly

The fruits on the tree coming out still green
With the sower salivating expectantly
For the fruitful day of harvest
But alas! the tree was axed down
By deranged lumberjacks

Alas! Ares struck
All gone with the air
Funneled down into the gallons of tears
The harvest now a a minute silence
A paycheck for the torrid sacrifice

PAIN SEASONS

The sun has scorched our skins
For many military years
While the ozone layer recklessly depleted
For only few democratic years
Our rivers have gone dried
And the aqua citizens migrating
Let it rain

The clouds are thick dark
The people can clearly see
But when will it rain?
So much evaporation into the sky
Yet so many dry seasons
With throats of subjects dry in drought
Let it rain

The dried skins are clinging to bones
As dried mouths are wide opened
Expecting the promised downpour
Instead of droplets
Not even enough to fill a cup
Nor suffice the eternally parched throats
Let it rain

We ask for rain
We do not mind a flood
Let it break the dams
Let there be a refreshing
We have had cupfuls of tears
We yearn for this flood
Let it rain

The dwellers in the skies
Are quite filled
But these supposed rainmakers
Are storing up greedily in gallons and tanks
Billions of litres looking down indifferently
At the dry land
Let it rain

The dark cloud we see
A result of evaporation
From our sweaty skins and oily lands
Enough of the drizzles
Enough of these painseasons
We need a cycle
So let it rain

STILLL WAITING

Born I was into this vain culture
Yes in it I was nurtured
Inured with this needless torture
By these executive vultures

These tunes of being in irony
In my teenage years have I danced to in agony
Never experienced living in bountiful harmony
Due to this ruthless hegemony

Youthfully I hoped for a wind of change
Sadly blown away by men greedily deranged
Out of my finger range
In this land so strange

Now I am used to these potholes
Blind am I to them as a mole
In a city with conflict with electricity
My adulthood spent in gratitude to the generator's generosity

Now am all grey and old
Ripe to join the spirit fold
As I watch my coffin
Still optimistic of the future offerings.

ICHABOD

Mourn thou besieged walls of Jerusalem
Cry thou desecrated temple of Zion
Let the obituaries of mitre
Adorn the walls of abode of worship
While the altars salivate sanctified funeral rites

When did uranium become an incense
To be burnt sulphurically and explosively
In His sanctuary
By bloodlust ghoulish preists
Without the Almighty being incensed

Doesn't He care anymore?
Now trepidation in collar creeps in
Preaching doom on the pulpits of our hearts
Are the angels of these sanctuaries on sabbathicals?
Guess we are not seeing what the omnipotent one sees

As the walls are round about Jerusalem
He clearly declared
But now thou art in ruins
Hath He commanded the house to be defiled
The courts fill with slains also?

O father Abraham
Against western englightenment
They claimed they are
Howbeit the no blast in the class rooms
Save for where two or more are gathered seemingly for thee

Ishamael's hand is hot
Against Israel's favoured frame
The filthy cleansing is on
As Zion matches on with Olive branches
To the bloodlust Haramites

PEARLY

She is pristinely coy
Not a sex toy
To be played with by the licentious boys
Her ways give me joy

Her radiant smiles
Send me miles
Away further than the Nile
Into a realm of no rile
Thoughts of her gives me no bile
Because she plays me no wiles
None in my mental file

I long for her to marry
Though it seems now to tarry
My beautiful wonder
So tender and makes me grow fonder
And daily romantically ponder
Any ripper to tear us asunder
I reply with thunder

THE NECESSARY TABOO

Left it was untendered
Struggling for rightful attention
This heir in its fiefdom
The alien adulated
Enthroned with great reverence

Howbeit is it now a taboo
To speak my language to get a boo
Now my mother tongue inimical to learning
Just as my food is unhygienic in nutrition
Now as a Roman must speak Greek

What need for me to bear a name in my native tongue
That I cannot unravel
Having a time table in my home
Where my mother allows me to speak her tongue
Only during the weekends

My folks do not even care
If am not taught Yoruba in school
But rush in frowns to demand for phonics
So I can speak through my nose
Like an imbecile

I say bon jour they marvel
Now I have to speak Mandarin
While Fagunwa writhes in pain
And Alawiye watches in horror
The gradual demise of their ingenuity

This language is cherished yonder
And they are growing with it fonder
Coming here to display it to our wonder
Alas! How can? We wonder
Struck in awe with careless thunder

Now it has packed its cases
Stocked in parcels cargo bound
Through a vortex to land not unknown
For someday we may have to pay through our nose
To learn Yoruba not in Ife but in Oxford

THE HUMAN GALLOW

Just in the night
That night of all nights
Carelessly unrehearsed he left the door ajar
Taking an airy slumber
With his spirit fully awake

Alas! whoredom crept in
The smell of razing concupiscence
Caught his fatigued nose
As his ears twitched in response
To the noise of lustful silence

Lazily his eyelids disengaged
From their mutual tenderness
As the air on his epidermis
Rose in irritability
To the caressing breeze of carnality

With all senses fully awake
He jerked to reality
And there she was topless
Her waist wrapped
With a skimpy towel

He sprang up star dazed and star gazing
The air in the room defiled
Thickening and evaporating
As it condensed on his body
While he dripped like the honeycomb

Her eyes amorously imploring
And out of her venomous lips
Oozed alluring words
Ornamental darts piercing the peaceful soul
She let loose the towel

His eyes fixed at her seductive frame
His senses now running riot
And hormones in tempestous discordance
The heart no longer beating but vibrating
His world fixed momentarily on an erection

He stood melting away
In the furnace of passion
Lost in Lust
With a noose dangling deceptively before him
Now he loved to die

The door was open
He was free to flee
But  chained down
And manacled by warm caress
And that power of old

He suddenly reasoned with life
As he saw his soul waved goodbye
He took to flight
The ground repelling his sole
The strongest man ever to live

As he ran yet he saw her stand
On his harassed mind
As he sped forward being chased
By the shadows of Jezebel
His thoughts raced backward

WITH WINGS

I pray not to have wings like a chicken
Never to do the frightened flights

I wish not to have wings like a peacock
For soon will I become too proud

I desire not the wings of a duck
For then will I be seen as too laid back and indolent

If I wings like a parrot
I chatter much and do less

I cherish not those of an ostrich
Then am I big for nothing

If I have wings like an owl
I just sit and watch things happen

If I have wings like a bat
I do too much without vision

If I have wings like a hawk 
I use mine to perpetrate evil

If I have wings like a turkey
Mine are only good to be roasted

If I have wings like a pigeon
Mine are good for caged flights

If I have wings like a dove
I use mine for harmless ventures not to ride the storms

But now I have wings like an eagle
And I ride with glee through storms and mountains

CAKE WINNERS

Who will help these helpless helpers?
Who have become helpful hustlers
Against the code of divine provision
Becoming cakewinners
To the delight of the breadlosers

Watch as the cakewinners
Jump off those beds
Hopping hurriedly dishevelled  around the living rooms
Running after those over punctual staff buses
A daily predawn ritual

Maids of horror
Have taken over those homes
Serving as mothers
To those motherless children
Whose mothers are well alive

The hugs of these maids do suffice the kids
And their melodious lullabies set them at rest
Enough they get from these maids
And do not care about the faces
Of hustlers they rarely see

The breadlosers of course
Cut the corners with the caring maids
Lick their fingers daily
After each delicious meal
Prepared by the assistant wives

The hustlers do well to get the cheques
Good enough to buy goodies
Always presented on their behalf
By assistant mothers
While the bread losers count their gains 

THE OBITUARY

Little by little
Our reservoirs of knowledge are going dry
The parent deposits of great shedding
Are being explored and exploited
By bourgeoisie of selfish intent

One by one
Our repositories of knowledge
Are being enticed and persuaded
With matchless promise of perennial paradise
As they walk away from the ancient homes of sages

See as the dons dance
Day by day coveteously?
At the refined music of the new found lovers
Waving their never filled hands?
At their myopic and insensitive beloved

The migration is on the rise
As minute by minute
Many more dons contemplate
As epistles of irresistible offers
Lie seductively on their now less burdened  tables

Year by year
Many new lovers and prostitutes
Fill the streets and corners of learning
As many more griots 
Are lustfully away bound

Step by step this is on the increase
And I hope I will not be the one
To announce the dearth of sound learning
 In our tap rooted institutitions
Survived by mushroom graduates

Enchanted

I had to examine myself
Whispered my name to myself several times
Is this really me?
Who on earth could disarm me
And send me into the realm of affection
Which I have built a fortress against
For so long years

It was like I had never seen a lass before
I thought this fortress I had built for years
Was strong enough to absorb this amorous shock
And that this feeling would die off prematurely
But alas! You struck my heart like no other
Like the deft touch of a hunter striking a hart
And as a sniper his target

I sought so hard  for an antidote
To remedy this sensation
Trying so hard to erase you from my mind
But there you are always in the recycle bin of my heart
Your picture, image of decency
Coupled with those stunning babyish smiles
And the pristine air

You got me in feverish obsession
Was it lust? I checked
No I wasn't lost
It is love in its purest form
Kneeling everyday before the Almighty
Interceding for this damsel
Whom at last had stolen my heart

STEEL HAND MADNESS

Brutes of the fiery air
Brutes of the turbulent waters
Brutes of the smoky lands
We hail thee
Conquerors of cockroaches

Welcome to the part of the globe
Where the khaki
Noisy sirens
Steel hands
Speak reckless freedom

Uniformed brutes they are
Who batter and pound at will
The disciplined touts
With duty to perform on violent fields
Not to engage in civilian stripping on expressways

Why should the hunter leave the forest?
Only to hunt in tranquil gardens?
No glory in hunting a lizard
When there are elephants to kill
In thick wild forests

While national security lies in the casket
With idle steel hands to lend a hand to the impotent police farce
Who scamper into their holes
At the sight of their preys
The steel hands just revel in orgasmic civil abuse

These steel hands trained to hold barrels
Now hie in camouflages to tear earlobes
And beat to slack helplesss eardrums
Obtrusive camouflage!
Yes amidst civil shirts and suits instead of leaves

The king of the expressways
With forced right to smooth rides
Even in the face of chaotic traffic
Threatening and whipping with noisy sirens and kobokos
To perform the red sea wonder

You scratch their car
They give you scars
With those steel hands
Which never pay transports fares
But protects pocketorial integrity

These steel hands are tamed to protect me
And not molest me
Never think that I am a weakling
I only respect your uniform
For your I can deform

THE LAST PROPHECY

As the mountains age
And age itself grows old
While time nears its retirement
And mother earth rotates with frailty on her walking stick
Beckoning on the end for a rest

I sort to unravel this mystery
Old and ever green in history
Lost in my latest entrancement
A daredevil research to embark on
 A project that has failed from inception

The last trump I earnestly await
A call to be made by the archangel
The time he himself cannot tell
The second coming of the messiah
Now a platitudinal statement to the world's peril

The time of the end the creator has hidden
But none of His words going unfulfilled
While heaven and earth pass away
So I dare to go in search of prophecies
My vain clues?

I seek the seers and sought after prophecies
Both ancient and contemporary
Seeking the yet unfulfilled ones
Taking note of the newest one
Watching for the last to be fulfilled

But who can know when prophecies
Will cease to flow
Will I live to find the last prophecy?
Will the world cease to exist before the Almightys' plans
For me come to be

For I believe
The last prophecy being fulfilled
Will signal an end
But who can know it?
 A futile expedition

SONG OF A SWAIN

Come thou beloved
Let me take you outerspace
And make you a bead of constellations
Let the string of stars around your neck glitter
To the envy of a girl's best friend

Come thou beloved
Let us play to the moon
Where I make you flakes
sweetened with honey from the moon
And diary from the milky way

Come thou beloved
Let us take a voyage to venus
The guest house of the goddess of love
There we watch the sun rise
To the glow of your now sapphiric eyes

Just your effulgent smile
And the sun rises in this night of mine
Ours is not seasonal
It's always going to be rainy
A torrential downpour of love

No dry season on this lovehill of ours
Reddish with the resplendence of roses
Your heart a pristine land to conquer
Guarded against the Lycans
Their howls of falsehood to cease

There is a season for every  everyone
A time on the chronometer of the heart
 When one gets struck by an arrow
From the bow of Cupid
Drawn to her allure in that enchanting moment

Even the fiercest den of hearts
The most pious of catholic minds
Heavily guarded with claws and soberness
Get infiltrated by love
The charming hex from the true wand

THE EIGHT WORLD WONDER

The rigs though yield
Much enough to fill my
Nation's leaking purse
Has not touched the souls like the blessed palms
Welcome to the wonders of the palm world

The steam pour out of  delicacies
 Coloured with red richness
Simmering out of every kitchen
The body to keep warm 
The wonder of the palm oil

The journeying breeze comes along
As the palms jubilate in whispered welcome
The branches to shelter from the irate sun
A great dream to have to the shame of the solar spirits
The wonder of the palm branches

The skin shines like the star
With the epidermis to smoothen
As infections disappear
And sweet scents fill the air
The wonder of the palm kernel

The broom sweeeps so clean
More than a vacuum cleaner
As the basket craft thrives
To the joy of the women folk
The wonder of a palm stem

The churches are never the same
On those memorable Sundays
The palms were turned to
For the Lord to ride on
The wonder of a Palm Sunday

Get togethers are made merrier
As calabashes travel from hand to hand
Emissaries of the tapers
With foams forming in the overgrown moustache of guffawing men in trance
The wonder of the palm wine

The families are unperturbed
By the adamant rain
Even the audacious hailstones
As the homes are kept dry
The wonder of the palm fronds

The farmer smiles home
Like a lucky lottery winner
Fulfilling the desires
Of his cherished ones
The wonders of the palm tree






 

THE BLACK LORDS OF THE BARRELS

The clouds of  rage forms
As the smoky thunders clap
And the random lightening signal colossal shellings
While steel hails descend
Accompanying the rain of blood
As the dam of blood breaks
With red flood washing the land clean

The pernicious hegemonic hypocrites
Watch indifferently the black to black butchery
As the foreign media
Paints perfectly in zeal the lurid chronicles
Of a doomed race?
The world shalom custodians
Rush in with delayed haste

The black despots watch
With filthy Iron hearts
Mighty black fiends
Who only gather in African covens
To sell the future for guns and coins
And to remain immortals in power
With rebellion to always gender

What do they know?
Ruling with wasteful greed
All products of errors
Africa now a dingy cemetery
Where gold and diamonds
And the barrels are more valuable
Than the humans

The walls of classrooms
Now galleries of congealed blood
Dark and thick of harmless children
The  ubiquitous smell of  blood
The wild look of refuge
As little ones walk around on one leg
The youths now rebels with blood-shot eyes

A little walk around and you pick
A misplaced humerus
Luckily craniums as priced laboratory assets
The girls walking around with healing pubics
And the men with bowed heads
No longer used to tranquility
Africa! a remnant of war

MY SONGS

Where are those songs
That used to rend my soul
Whose didactic lyrics pricked my heart so strong
And exorcises that from my soul which is foul

What happened to those divine harps
Those truthful saxophones and sonorous accordions
With notes that stung the vile hearts
All now submerged in the pool of volcanic vulgar raps

I guess they are all gone now
Locked up in our archives
For they now stink life filthy sows
As they keep a row against our new lives

The air is now rent with notes of lust
Escorted with aphrodisiac beats
Worshiped with dances of moral rust
Leading eventually to sensual heat

Though I love to listen to love songs
The mild ones of yester years will do
Save me from these salacious tunes
Which leads to eternal wreckage

FERNANDO

Oh Fernando! Who gives me basket for laundry
In my own land
In your walled plantation
A slave in Fatherland I am

Penny you pay me
Oh mordant Mongolian
As you drain my life
To feed your insatiable lust

I dare not take a rest
For I will get a horse whip on my paycheck
My skin shines in fatigue for you
Oh Chin Yin Lee

Your blood sucking amputating  machines
Turning my poor brothers to sudden beggars
In my fatherland
Oh bloody prakesh!

You have turned my compatriots
Against me as Warrant officers
Morons who yell at their brothers
Oh wretched caricatures

I have no one to cry to
For all I have is a conment
They have sold me out through treacherous treaties
Oh miserable seeds of Judas

I shall get you someday
For you are no better than I am
I refuse to be your carthouse
Oh you insolent Fernando

THE HALL OF SHAME

The sole actor performs
All knowing he needs a cerebral reform
Never demands a ticket price
In which he dares performs stark nude

Fun to really watch by the wild audience
Except for his family
Dancing to soundless songs
And playing the role of a troupe

An entertaining comedy
A result of a tradegy
Which the spirits direct
And no one volunteers to be an actor

The stage nothing but a dunghill
Adored with flies and stenchy fresheners
With maggots managing the stage
To the envy of Broadway

His, is the best selling comedy
Pure and original
Of which no oscar can measure
But for a home and a straight jacket

MINE OF THE MINDS

I was branded outlandish
Because I would not eat with a dish
I prefer a clean Coco yam leaf
So you can take your leave

My Iro and Buba
Better than your wicked straps and bikinis
You exhibit on the beautiful Islands of Aruba
With morals diminished

Why should I speak through my nose
And have a name like Billy Joe
To exalt my perfect foes
Who really only care about my woes

At least semi naked they found us
Really primitive in nature
But they now catwalk and pant around
In their generous pants

Who is the fool?
Who is really uncivilised?
Is it me who bare my  flesh
For all around the world to see

The only thing not inferior me
Is my gold from Gold-Coast
My ivories from the Ivory Coast
And my crude oil from the deltas

All these at the disposal of the blackrace
Who says we can't win this race
With our necks medal adorned?
Only we the ambassadors of the race

THIS ROAD

This road do I take in sanctity
Strutting like a victorious warlord
Meditating on the word like Buddhist
In the broad day light
While everyone  sees a saint
This road sees a pure stain
In the sacred throng



This road do I take
Lustfully the same day
In the dimy vile darkness
In which no one observes the offender
Except this same road, a witness which keeps mute
As the saints navigates in exploration
The tempting temple of a damsel

This road that leads to the sanctuary
Also leads to the roofless ten star brothel
As I walk in daylight to the sanctuary
I also prepare the bed grass of defiling
While the people revere the stained saint
I manage well the act of violent prayer
With the act of violent orgasm in the later of laters

This road just keeps quiet
Who can blame it?
It does its own work in righteousness
At least, leads to the sanctuary
And to that secret place of the most high
Watches with ubiqutous eyes
Waiting to testify on the first of the last days.

CONJUGAL LASHES

Oh dear lovely Aretha
Married to a good looking Ogre
A beautiful pearl cast before a swine
Daily oozing with excessive lager
A blow he dealt to her graceful spine

Oh radiant Loreta
Daughter of great virtue
A vow before the altar she made to this sex maniac
This act she daily rues
As she sits still nursing her broken arm

Oh long suffering Agatha
A male child she couldn't create
Every blow she takes with excruciating laughter
To appease her confused daughters
Leaving even with a black eye not in her agenda

Oh insolent Martha
Daily do you push him to the wall
And nag him over frivolous matters
This gentleman daily you feed with gall
Until he turned you to a ball

Oh heartbroken sisters
Battered mothers
Self-exiled daughters
where cast thou thy discretion as spinsters?
For tomorrow he layeth wreath for thee

TWILIGHT IN GIDAN MANA

Darkness descends deeply
As the mountains of Jaban Kogo slumber
The shadows of the Jijinya palms
Get lost in the veiling darkness

The glow worms invade the fields
With a frenzied bout of merriment
With lights flickering
As they crowned each sheaf of grass

The crickets congregate ceremoniously
For a concert
Bursting into a cacophony of chirps
Adding tunes to the flickerings

The dogs bark
At the spirits of the night
Suddenly there is an abrupt silence
The spirits seem to yawn

As the gentle breeze caressed my frame
Even the spirits seem  to be sleepy
A gunshot scatters the game
The echo says goodnight 

TWO LIVES

And I thought let there be
And there was a world created
My own utopian world
So far yet so near
A world that doesn't exist in its very existence

Between two realms do I switch
Having two lives like a witch
I sow seeds of pigments with auroral pigments
And reaping vexatious fruits of illusion
Though I am not conned in this delusion

I have lived life to the fullest
Born, grown old,ceased to exist yet alive
I have gathered bounteous wealth
More than the preacher can boast of
In my own world

I have built edifices more bewitching
Than the Taj Mahal
Lent to Europe some money
Mobbed than choc ice
And won the Oscars and Grammys several times

I escape several times from the real world
To my world to revel
Though am not a coward
Still am I empty
In great Fulfillment

However it ends
While I draw my final breathe
I sure do will have no regret
Because I lived sumptuously
In my world of fantasy