SERIES IV OF WURAOLA
Tell her, Begiola is lonely,
now I’m at loss,
Ibadan born never shows fear,
but here I am, shivering,
once again I’m betrayed,
even with my SUV and status,
my heart is broken.
Who can bring me back Wuraola?
is there any Knight in Ibadan,
that can rescue my beloved?
How many sacrificial items,
will it take Egungun Alapansanpa,
to return Wuraola to my arms now?
Ah! Luke 6:24,
will riches be my consolation now?
Oh No! Ori, take your riches,
and find me Wuraola again.
she’s stolen from me, my love is stolen,
snatched away by the cold hands of death,
just when I waved at her across the road,
Gbegilodo, agent of death, hit her!
SERIES III OF WURAOLA
Wuraola, it is not your fault that you left,
that you sought after greener pasture,
and left my Paul for Thessalonica,
I won’t blame your guts my love,
who prays to love in poverty,
and romance in abject lack of wealth?
A man is a man,
so our said,
while I ran errands for riches,
and beckoned the call for wealth,
there, doubts approached you.
I know my woman’s strength,
Like Romans 8:35, my love for you,
can’t be separated by any disappointment.
Wuraola, like I said in the past,
love knows no hurt,
love sees no pain and records no crime,
true love measures not with vengeance,
love sees only what it desires to see as love,
I am Begiola, my arms are open for you,
Wuraola, when shall I meet your father?
SERIES II OF WURAOLA
Ah! Wuraola is engaged,
the Lagos boy snatched her,
she’s snatched away like a bag at Oshodi,
he says he owns VI,
and about buying a rolls-Royce,
says he will show Wuraola Lagos,
I cried, and warned,
yet I’m labeled enemy of progress,
Wuraola after waiting for two months,
discovered she’s been defrauded.
not just the long time preserved virginity,
along the catered goods include,
our relationship of 7 years.
Now she returns to Mokola,
roaming the overhead bridge,
Only to discover I’m no longer there,
with a bike as usual,
as she turned left to wipe off her sweats,
behold, she saw me alight,
with a big smile, from a new SUV,
I now stay at Oluyole Estate,
IBADAN BOYS ARE LOYAL!!!
I am yours Wuraola,
the wind is strong,
yes, our storm is in rage,
the wind is like that of Katrina,
but we are not in Virginia or Miami,
this is Ibadan, ni ile Oluyole,
where love battles all to survive.
Let me take you on a trip Wuraola,
not to Dubia or Sri Lanka,
but to Agodi Resorts at Mokola,
where you’ll see the beautiful hills,
hills where Premier Hotel sits,
same hills where faithfuls go.
Wuraola, I want to take you around,
around my city Ibadan.
Come with me to the brown roofs here,
underneath sits, a god, Oke’badan.
these brown roofs gave birth,
to those you see driving exotic cars.
Manage the bike with me today,
tomorrow, we shall visit in our SUV.
In his words, “This book contains poems I wrote from my heart,it’s my first published work. I sat reading some pages days ago with friends and they could almost cry, yet smiling”.
I Know Why Your Mother Cries (IKWYMC) is not just a collection of poetry but a manifestation of the tears mothers and women have cried and still cry. The collection is engaging, utilizes humour, collective imagery and creates a special eureka feeling which every one no matter class,age or gender can relate with. It addresses almost every motifs of life.
Every one born of a woman should find pleasure in this beauty. And the beauty lies in the tears your mother sheds… “But with your woman’s tears, the world becomes complete” (Stanza 15)
IKWYMC is a poetry about love, feminism, motherhood, failed promises, poverty, corruption, will, injustice, leadership, hope and the dream we collectively share. “The language is simple, almost prosaic in order to make the message clear to the masses that he represents…” Professor Hope Eghagha(From Foreward)
Get yours, click to buy https://www.okadabooks.com/
or chat +2348135359053 to buy directly from author via Bank transfer. The book (e-pub) would be mailed afterwards.
Badiru Kehinde was born in Okokomaiko, Lagos. His first published work is a poetry collection titled; I Know Why Your Mother Cries. Also, He was schooled at Osun state university where he had his first degree in English Language and International Studies. Kehinde is also a spoken work artiste, writes, designs, brands and teaches. He is a regular columnist on different online platforms where his works have been featured. Kehinde has served as campus journalist, features editor and editor in chief of two magazines. He also loves freelance writing, Literature, Smooth Jazz, Culture, Digital media, meeting people and God.
Badiru writes and shares different exciting stuffs on his Instagram and Facebook page mostly. He is currently working on collection of short stories, another collection of poems and a memoir.
Behind the clouds!
Ìrókò is the King of trees
The lion,master of the jungle
This you may be yet to fathom
Why the ìrókò?
You see him in white linen
My perception suggests he has horns on his head
Smiles you see
Blood foaming from the mouth of the “innocent”
He is obviously wealthy
Stretched to me a naiira note
I hear the cries of the innocent ghosts
With my mouth agape
Ajénikókó believed he has killed his poverty
Tell him to prepare gowns of wretchedness
Shame looms ahead!
You might have passed through the woods
Observing the shaking trees
Oh that’s a wind!
Loudly you echo to co- tourists
Ifákúnlé passed the same woods
Stood a while to listen to sweet voices
Singing harmoniously with mysterious percussions
They are not the Anglican choir
Tree spirits are partying!
As I was walking in the path of justification,
Everyone was gazing at me as if I have no destination,
Only me knows my Creator’s satisfaction,
So I continued walking with solidification.
I continue walking, thinking about the end,
and thinking about when the race will end,
curious about when we will ascend,
and my mission will be completed .
Though I the way is tedious ,
but I am still focused,
because I know the place is glorious ,
and the alternative way is cost.
Everybody been in the Vineyard ,
makes me feel bad ,
Not been able to hear the sound of birds,
makes me stay long on bed.
I prefer staying in a cave ,
because, sometimes I do feel like I am a slave,
that can never be compared to a maid,
because they are often paid.
Working tirelessly without profit,
In it I see no benefit.
Even others that are to assist ,
are already placed on a higher sit.
Sitting down alone just like a sadist ,
does not make me happy.
Even though, people think I’m naughty ,
but I know my brain is not faulty.
Babatunde Stephen Oladayo is an African Poet. He is a senior secondary school graduate seeking admission into a tertiary institution. He is a saxophone player of jazz, classical, Afro and contemporaries. He is a lover of Art and music.
Adekunle Adewunmi is aCorrespondence;ChurchTimesAgency. A graduate of Mass Communication, his passion for looking into the society makes him a lover of writing and he writes according to societal happenings. He was the Sub-editor; Community Echo Newspaper and Omega Magazine. Adekunle Adewunmi is also a Poet. His works have been published on websites like__ www.ynaija.com www.irepublicng.com www.moshoodmuhammed.wordpress.com www.eyimofeokuwoga.wordpress.com www.akewiartshouse.com
Fb: Adekunle Israel Adewunmi.
I MISS YOU
By Adekunle Adewunmi.
It is important we part ways
Not for heart breaks
But for future smiles.
Closeness may deny us
From reaching our hands
Towards our set goals
That requires moving away
From our comfort zones.
Though I travelled to a very far land,
You remain in my heart
At the sound of the morning and evening beagles,
I sojourn back to your abode throughmy mind.
I’m happy to meet you alive
Beautiful and resting well
Now, I can caressyour body with my pen
I miss you my poetry book!
STREETS OF GOLD
By Adekunle Adewunmi
Is your toga clean?
Or you desire the sweetness of the anther?
Your leaf is green or black due to lack of manure?
The beagle ringsand still does
It’s voice is clarion
Very clear and gentle saying;
“Receive the ticket to the streets ofGold”
For thepure and shining are the streets
Glittering, well refined and polished!
Reception available for all
All that wills and obey
At the trumpet’sheight of clarity,
Many are ushered into the party
Without stereotyping or hierarchy
Into the land of golden merry.
Oodles of gold crowns,
Plethora of awards
Floods the Résumé of those that win,
Echoes of praises and honour
Bequeathed to these wise ones
Who makes it to the streets.
Despite accepting all,
It rejects some
Who fails to identify with the street owner
For He knows His Sheep
Andthey know Him.
So, receive and accept His Lordship
For He his the maker of the skies, land
And the seas!!!
There is an evil which I’ve seen under the sun
And, it is common among men
There is a virtue I know about
But it rings afar off.
The evil seems close and lovely
It shines and glitters as gold
Disobedience is sweeton the surface
Yet, ashes prevails overits beauty
For it is ephemeral.
The virtue is powerful,
It is meaningful and beautiful
It can never be ridiculed
Yes, obedience is honourable!
For to obey is better than plea
To adhere, than lobbying
Working assiduously to make a name
Written on sandsof time.
For to be obedient require patience
With patience comes respect
In respect comes honourand blessings
With which obedience pays off.
We have a duty
You, me, and us
To be compliant with Nigeria’s core values,
Enthrone this nation
Disposing the garments of rebellion
Against constituted authority
Which may lead to dejection
Refraining from violation
Which may usher war in.
Let’s drink together in the same container;
The water of obedience that breeds oneness
Obedience that halts corruption
Obedience that shows compassion.
Let us be,
And keep being obedient
It shows humility
For God seeks such.
OBEDIENCE sells helps and makes.
We are Nigerians; together in love we can make it a better place.