Tag Archive | Poetry

Obesity of Thoughts

All dressed up, bottom box

frills, thrills and booyahs!

No party though to go;

But appearances, keep thee up.

Your thoughts are fat,

my understanding, thin.

Grandiose ideas thou have,

manifestly minuscule in truth.

Great mansions you promised,

but no land is in sight, anywhere!

Ghosts of the past, they are here,

awoken from fitful slumbers.

You feign wealth when all there’s

to see are books, well-cooked …

Still, you swagger along,

charming pants off people.

You Vagrant!

Appetites aflame,

Fingers a-wandering,

Cookie jars a-running!

Tired am I of your

jug of jarring juxtapositions.

cold, nay hot; heated yet wintry,

in an endless rigmarole.

Successfully, you’ve made

virtue and vice mingle together;

at home with sin and penitence,

surefooted in the art of double speak.

Are you not spent,

is your power not sapped?

How many seasons must we endure?

Thou purveyor of inconsistencies?

©️ Adewale Adeniji. November 2019.

Lost! (Cryptic 101)

A little boy, I’m just a little runt

Looking, praying for love

A little lass, I’m just a wee wench

Searching, hoping for love

Not everywhere, oh no

Neither regular love, nah.

Aseeking, awondering

Pandering over an ideal.

I’m just a little gal

Looking for perfection

I’m that hunk, hungry

For that ideal, perfect tryst.

What you are is lost.

Ain’t no love that perfect

No union that smooth

You’re just a little lost!

©️ Adewale Adeniji.

4th July 2019.

Happy Independence Day, America!

Baying for Blood. (Street Conversation)

 

Tiff! Tiff!! Tiff o!!!

Catch am, hold am!

Wey tyre, wey petrol?

Burn am, burn am o!

If he escape, pen ren..

Na you we go hold join o!

 

 

I don tiff, biko forgive me o!

Na hunger waya my pickin dem.

I no be tiff before o,

Na loss I loss my job

Plenty mouth to feed

I dey sorry, na the bread be this…

 

 

You be tiff, tiff must kpeme o.

Knock that him head, barawo!

Wey the tyre na? I say, wey petrol?

I say he must kpeme! Kpeme!!!

Who you wey day drag this man?

You wan make we kee you join? 

 

 

But oga, him don confess na.

Him don drop the bread for ground.

Even bread seller don carry her market go.

Temper justice with mercy nah!

I say leave am . You wan kill person?

The man don confess, apologize join!

 

 

He must die o, me wey hungry catch before

I tiff? I no tiff, why him no fit find work?

Na dem dem be that, fine boy wey day tiff.

Na die for him today. 

I go kill am, I go stay for police.

Useless tiff, wey dey dress fine.  

 

 

Oga! Wetin we carry, wetin you throw?

You know am before? 

Him don wunjure you before?

You say him tiff, he don drop the bread.

He don beg una? Na wetin?

Na him kill ya dream?

 

 

Abeg, clear comot for road.

Pot dem wey day call kettle black.

Kill am now, commit murder.

Knive wey don cut ya finger,

You wan throway am.

Osisco. 

©️Adewale Adeniji. 3rd July 2019.

Poem_Chessy Chalkers

CHALK AND CHEESE-ILLUSTRATION

Marabouts at fork-roads
Fetching fetish feasts;
Curves unseen divining,
base minds emboldening.
Foretelling fortunes fortuitously,
plying Russian Roulettes you
Boogie Greenback diviners.

Know ye not that these
twain of a truth tussles?
Chalks and Cheeses.
Thou however thread both
together, with long ropes
of perfidious puns; parlayed
for gains so gross it choked.

Straight faced, your lot
promised a predator
keys to a nursery, when
you knew better; yet to line
thy wallets, you cared less.

How long captivated would
thy mind be manipulated,
you slaves of ambition,
worshipper on greed’s altar?
Mangled minded moguls too,
unhinged by base desires,
thou took these prophesies to heart,
parsing these divining assurance
these contrived courses of crass
as proof of assured occurrence!

But He laughs in derision, He
who knows tomorrow from yesterday
because His principles always
put cheese and chalk asunder.
Finito!!!

© Adewale Adeniji. October 2018.

Fertile Deserts, Barren Paddies.

 

Good, yet incurably bad.

Stinking, sweet aromas.

Sad, smiling faces.

We loath and love simultaneously

We are of course being ourselves.

***

Barren rice paddies, filled with

empty husks, none to thresh.

Yet bellies awaiting filling,

bodies needing fuelling.

All shorn of themselves.

***

Deserts so fertile

with gore so sore.

No, not of produce.

Alas of pogrom.

Tragedies for us all.

***

Opposites, converses,

our discuss, all warped!

Common ground narrowed

by conversations so blithe,

offspring o’ fertile deserts, barren paddies.

 

© Adewale Adeniji. May 2018.

Alatika* United

 

A gallery attendee here,

A window dresser there.

That’s the way of it!

Pressure! Pile it on…

Except you deign another

4 years of dryness!

 

 

Another season of being

for all, yet for none!

Come on now, write yours ..

Yes, a letter you dimwit.

Pressure! Pile it on…

No more shoe string living.

 

 

Oh, how great were dem days

Breakfast in Dubai! Choi!!!

Croissant from Paris,

Caviar from Petersburg.

Cometh this man, cometh

starvation, privation!

 

 

Pile on the pressure!

He cannot even kaput in peace

Fool! Tight-fisted bastard.

Cause confusion, anarchy.

Trust our people, they’d

lap it all up. Write, grumble.

 

 

All aggrieved, unite!

Come, complain, harangue.

No more years, no more 

for the scroungy old fool!

Confuse every issue, 

Confound every one!

 

 

Coalition, yes! Nice word.

Tell the farmer, he is leading

the charge! What nonsense!

How can we live through 

another season of this man?

We are united. We love ourselves.

 

 

© Adewale Adeniji. 05/02/2018.

*Alatika – a local word meaning revellers.

Nigeria Go Better!

We were once, all of us,
young and free, vibrant together.
Neither pretense nor grudge.
Then we grew up, and we
became competitors. Nay enemies.
Where has our salad years gone?

But, I cannot hate anymore
You, refuse to fight me any longer.
Even if we all may be hurting …
You may be down, I may be lost.
But together we are not out, not yet.
All we can do is carry each other.

All we must do is fetch for one another.
One for all, our horde for one.
Together … Stronger … Bolder
living, learning, laughing, loving.
That is all that is left to do, as we age.
No more jostling. Let us bare each other.

Hausa, Igbo, Yoruba, Fulani, Urhobo,
Bini, Birom, Baruba, Bachama, Anang,
Ishan, Isoko, Ikwerre, Degema, Efik,
Eggon, Egun, Gwari, Gwoza, Nupe
Ibibio, Igala, Idoma, Ijumu, Tiv … and more.
All together, carrying water for Nigeria!

© 14th July 2017. Adewale Adeniji.

Marrying Who? Part 1

Marrying Who?, 01

Its our wedding day, great expectations…

All roads lead to us, our own unique moment.

All hail the groom, decked out in his best!

All hail the bride, decked out ….

Wait a minute. Where is my Egwu Eji*, my Amaria*?

Who, perchance art thou, lady in white?

What? Idonbilivit!

Is that you, my love? What happened to your face?

Decked you are all right, but is that you behind the mask?

Yes, I know it is called ‘make up’ now, but…

Is that the nose I still tickled last week?

Mba*, mba, mba! Ko je je be* now!

Ok. Where is the mouth I used to, you know…

Why is so pout? Blotting out your winsome smile?

Ha ha. Am I dreaming like Alfa Sule*?

What color is your skin again? Chai*! Te mi ba mi*!

To be continued ….

Glossary:

*Egwu Eji – Igbo language for ‘outstanding beauty’

*Amaria – Hausa language for ‘new wife’

*Mba – Igbo language for ‘No’ 

*Ko je je be – Yoruba language for ‘It cannot be’

*Alfa Sule – A local comic.

*Chai – Wow.

*Te mi ba mi – I am in trouble.

Literary Cautions:

This is a literary work. No offense is meant to any specific gender, please.

Photo Credit: Boscoe Holder.

© 14th March 2017. Adewale Adeniji

Build Your Own ARK.

Ark

 

Random acts, kindness redefined.

Poco a poco, one humanoid apiece.

Lots of folk asunder, aghast for fear.

Gather, cradle, nurture.

Baby steps, balancing acts.

Kindness exemplified, randomly useful.

One, long gone, built an Ark. You too,

your very own A.R.K can build

in many lives, one at a time, by your

Acts of Random Kindness!

 

© 13th February 2017. Adewale Adeniji.

Solitude

pix_solitude

Quietness of mind.

Cocooned, surreal state.

Fertile arena for ideas to float.

Doors shut against every rabble,

all noise-some pests.

Wondrous state to ponder anew,

plethora of potential possibilities.

Noiseless lonesomeness soothes

and nourishes my cranium occupant.

Medulla oblongata thanks you!

Reason refreshed on solitude’s

altar; matched only by silence itself.

Otiose state, abandoned in seclusion.

What heaven!!!

 

 

Yes, I love my own company.

This sequestration of my mind,

in my space, at my pretty pace,

for my peace. Soothing is the

privacy this isolation brings.

No, you are not welcome

to my state of incognito.

Better to remain faceless

in facing my issues; confronting

them fiends of progress, retooling

my smarts, recharging my batteries.

Oh, how I long to be festooned,

moored on these shores,

permanently!!!

© 20th January 2017. Adewale Adeniji