A Journey To Destiny.
White shawl tied around my waist,
on my palms sits a white calabash of fate.
At the birth of my days,
my barefoot on rhythmic pace-
a tour through life
on a bumpy road of contours
to a land i'm destined to base.
under an oak tree,
there i stood and query the breeze
how am i a pilgrim of this?
An Oyo empire
where truth is banished by the OYOMESIS'
Lie enthrone -ALAAFIN,
lust for wealth and greed,
on their farms they breed
what is the fruit of a seed sowed with greed?
peace they smash on the floor pieces.
my white shawl sag around my waist,
i pick up my calabash of fate,
let me continue the journey with faith
i look up to see the road ahead part ways.
i'm now a damn, i stand hollow
singing aloud in my mind a silent solo
which of this turn paths man go follow?
One path to the Eden of the ADENUGAS',
the Banana Island of the OTEDOLAS
where wealth is a mere slave-
I'll bath in a mesh of white feathers;
caressing my chicks is INIEDO,
kissing my lips is AGBANI Darego-
gulping from a gold brass goblet,
i get drunk of wealth and stagger.
The other path rise to the skies,
to a site beyond naked site-
a luminous gleam of light
where poetry knights:
WOLE OSUNDARE, NIYI SOYINKA and the likes.....
all clad in regalia so white.
at night,
they dance around and chant:
poetry is our rite,
our ill-fated world we rewrite.
should i jump into the light?
the midst of souls that write
our dark clouded sky bright,
sorrow rewritten to delight
souls in death healthy alive,
one verse gently heal life.
confused is the Island i stand
when he approach;
a ghost image of Robert Frost
fainting from the breeze
Echo of words of 'The Road Not Taken.'
my belle swollen of words,
a pregnancy of prowess.
but my pocket famished of cowries,
how will i make paying dowry?
even my left palm is plain of lines,
what will a fortune teller read or find?
at the Y junction of the road,
confused here i stand.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Monday, September 08, 2014
THE BANISHED DEMON | Tunde Abdulsalam AKA @savvyminded
You satanic being they call Ebola, Why wage war on us from Liberia, Break the boarder to Angola And crusade death promo in lagos and yola. You regard not the sacred jerusalem and mecca, Rampage America
And rope your cobwebs in Europe would you murder even the pope? You spell cast us of diarrhoea, form an ally with malaria Using their armies of bacteria, You invade our blood stream areas. We shiver and squirm in a mud of fever, Slowly, we tranquil into eternal Coma Nurses,
doctors,
even our Mama Will not dare coming closer if they do, they you you take over You stir fear timid above the air: No warm clasp of our palms, how you dey Now we fist-lift the heavy air, twale and a distant 'rankadede'. You lieutenant to general death parading our town in murder, you must be On an order to erase human race . We bind you seven red and white candle, Your banish sacrifice We offer esu laalu: A fierce-hot palm oil, three burnt nut kola, A calabash of palm kernel And a two-toed cockerel.
Arubo ebo da no ooo, ajankoro dugbe,
Iku at'arun lo nile yi oo, ajankoro dugbe.
Odi gba! odi gbere! Igbo rere! We banish you from our land To the be wilderness of demons in the forbidden forest where you belong.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
We Cry For Freedom
Gome! Gome! Gome!
chime the hollow metal gong,
at the heaven and earth T-junction,
we settle in throng,
our soulful voice raise long in song,
we chant elegy to our banished freedom!
a bitter chorus sour our divided tongues.
We are the voice of the commoners,
in our soil, we are native sojourners;
snails whose shells crushed by giant feet
at night, we lay sleepy awake,
clothe in neat rag sheets on the streets
pleading with the night
not to shower her gloomy blessings of tornado and storm
our night ritual is to spell cast the horror of the next morning :
leprosy bellied roads accidents,
spark the killer diseases, kidnappers,
'bokos' with 'okos'_thunder stone
when they all come to bath clean
in the gushing stream of our splashed bloods.
are we not the quiet sob that swallows an unspoken word,
an unspoken word that wouldn't have said it all
like the slaughtered throat of a bleeding pen,
dripping blood of children,
women,
even men,
slithered emotions on the surface of a slate;
minds fainting in demanding state.
Freeeeeeedoooooomm!
our voice thunder above all Kilimanjaros,
sparks of tiny line of light axe our gloomy sky
the bottom pot of planet earth shiver in vibration as we cry
when will our thunderous cry
crack our freedom loose
from this rocky yoke of servitude?
The hour is now
we are free freedom fighters smiling at wars,
Archers charging forward on unity horse.
we are liberty cavalry,
our mission is primary
to be head all racial rivalry,
democratic tyranny
public wallet day robbery
polite treachery,
slavery
and every....
banners of freedom tied to our wrists,
we march in protest to free peace
let the white pigeon fleeeeee
our minds soar in glee
breeze of of bliss vooooozzz
as she gently flee free with ease
in our cities: north west south and east.
chime the hollow metal gong,
at the heaven and earth T-junction,
we settle in throng,
our soulful voice raise long in song,
we chant elegy to our banished freedom!
a bitter chorus sour our divided tongues.
We are the voice of the commoners,
in our soil, we are native sojourners;
snails whose shells crushed by giant feet
at night, we lay sleepy awake,
clothe in neat rag sheets on the streets
pleading with the night
not to shower her gloomy blessings of tornado and storm
our night ritual is to spell cast the horror of the next morning :
leprosy bellied roads accidents,
spark the killer diseases, kidnappers,
'bokos' with 'okos'_thunder stone
when they all come to bath clean
in the gushing stream of our splashed bloods.
are we not the quiet sob that swallows an unspoken word,
an unspoken word that wouldn't have said it all
like the slaughtered throat of a bleeding pen,
dripping blood of children,
women,
even men,
slithered emotions on the surface of a slate;
minds fainting in demanding state.
Freeeeeeedoooooomm!
our voice thunder above all Kilimanjaros,
sparks of tiny line of light axe our gloomy sky
the bottom pot of planet earth shiver in vibration as we cry
when will our thunderous cry
crack our freedom loose
from this rocky yoke of servitude?
The hour is now
we are free freedom fighters smiling at wars,
Archers charging forward on unity horse.
we are liberty cavalry,
our mission is primary
to be head all racial rivalry,
democratic tyranny
public wallet day robbery
polite treachery,
slavery
and every....
banners of freedom tied to our wrists,
we march in protest to free peace
let the white pigeon fleeeeee
our minds soar in glee
breeze of of bliss vooooozzz
as she gently flee free with ease
in our cities: north west south and east.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Fear no more
Fear no more the clandestine tomorrow
my Hero mind,
She is the yesterday of another tomorrow-
a land my soul may or may not find.
Fret not of tomorrow
for she will become yesterday--
Moses' foot crested on the surface of a rock.
Fear no more tomorrow
she is not an offspring of time
just remnant in Time's intestine.
The male son of time is today,
tomorrow is just fiction, a prophetic say
of a familiar stranger from the land of may.
Fret not of FATE
for her gait is that of a fickle being,
be afraid not of DESTINY her mate
her presence is that of a breeze
not felt in the marrow but, seen.
Fear not the voice of a fortune teller,
the diction of prediction of a professor PELLER
who eavesdrop as he peep
leap and slip half deep
into an unknown world of bleak
to unveil a tomorrow
that is pleasant, a mist of bliss
or that is an hurricane from the wilderness of beasts.
Fret not my soul
when tomorrow threatens to be an hamlet,
lost in a state of tempest
where HOPE, a puzzled mope
in a struggle to co-op
melt fear to a liquid steel
forging a rust iron shackle;
a charmed bangle clutching firm on the ankle.
Oh ye fellow wimpy minds,
the world is just HIS word,
lost not in thought
over ALL that is but lust
that will rust,
folded in his white wide palms is its dust.
my Hero mind,
She is the yesterday of another tomorrow-
a land my soul may or may not find.
Fret not of tomorrow
for she will become yesterday--
Moses' foot crested on the surface of a rock.
Fear no more tomorrow
she is not an offspring of time
just remnant in Time's intestine.
The male son of time is today,
tomorrow is just fiction, a prophetic say
of a familiar stranger from the land of may.
Fret not of FATE
for her gait is that of a fickle being,
be afraid not of DESTINY her mate
her presence is that of a breeze
not felt in the marrow but, seen.
Fear not the voice of a fortune teller,
the diction of prediction of a professor PELLER
who eavesdrop as he peep
leap and slip half deep
into an unknown world of bleak
to unveil a tomorrow
that is pleasant, a mist of bliss
or that is an hurricane from the wilderness of beasts.
Fret not my soul
when tomorrow threatens to be an hamlet,
lost in a state of tempest
where HOPE, a puzzled mope
in a struggle to co-op
melt fear to a liquid steel
forging a rust iron shackle;
a charmed bangle clutching firm on the ankle.
Oh ye fellow wimpy minds,
the world is just HIS word,
lost not in thought
over ALL that is but lust
that will rust,
folded in his white wide palms is its dust.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
THE HAWKS
From the crypt of our lonely rocks,
in bulks comes these terror hawks.
Here and there they are
not so high
in our smiling noon sky, there they fly.
their eyes_a gloomy glow of horror;
pointed at our lasses
is their crooked fingers and claws.
Right before our aghast eyes,
they clang and sunk their claws and fingers
into the shivery shoulders of our GIRLS
off to their bloodcurdling cave,
they hurriedly wave.
ye ehhhh!!!
E gba wa ooo!
Abike oo Anike oooo Ashake ooo
our daughters ooooo
mamas deserting their wrappers
dizzy,giddy, their entire bodies
on the surface of the sod
with their swarthy thigh flapping in the mud.
papas_with a daze in their gaze
up and down,they blankly pace
with their caps flying in the swirling wind.
Tears of blood rolling down our chicks
as we bend on our knees
holding our bleeding chest
vomiting our wounded hearts.
Those fragile creatures are our future treasures
oh! Our virgin Marias
fastened around their waists like beads
is the seeds of cowries;
our dowry......
in their innocent wombs is the tube
of the defenseless embryos
of our future queens, emperors and kings.
bring back our girls,bring back those jewels;
a freedom song in the tongues of our caged birds
Our Caesars,
gather your wounded wings, fly like a raven
into the profound of their cafe
bring home our girls__save
for their virgin wombs is the pregnancy of our unborn future
slavery is not an iron beads
that befits the necks of these future creatures
they are the emblems that will inherit our image, our literature.
in bulks comes these terror hawks.
Here and there they are
not so high
in our smiling noon sky, there they fly.
their eyes_a gloomy glow of horror;
pointed at our lasses
is their crooked fingers and claws.
Right before our aghast eyes,
they clang and sunk their claws and fingers
into the shivery shoulders of our GIRLS
off to their bloodcurdling cave,
they hurriedly wave.
ye ehhhh!!!
E gba wa ooo!
Abike oo Anike oooo Ashake ooo
our daughters ooooo
mamas deserting their wrappers
dizzy,giddy, their entire bodies
on the surface of the sod
with their swarthy thigh flapping in the mud.
papas_with a daze in their gaze
up and down,they blankly pace
with their caps flying in the swirling wind.
Tears of blood rolling down our chicks
as we bend on our knees
holding our bleeding chest
vomiting our wounded hearts.
Those fragile creatures are our future treasures
oh! Our virgin Marias
fastened around their waists like beads
is the seeds of cowries;
our dowry......
in their innocent wombs is the tube
of the defenseless embryos
of our future queens, emperors and kings.
bring back our girls,bring back those jewels;
a freedom song in the tongues of our caged birds
Our Caesars,
gather your wounded wings, fly like a raven
into the profound of their cafe
bring home our girls__save
for their virgin wombs is the pregnancy of our unborn future
slavery is not an iron beads
that befits the necks of these future creatures
they are the emblems that will inherit our image, our literature.
Thursday, May 08, 2014
***THE ART***
One night,
Poetry, a gray-haired sorcerer
flaunting his skills Merlin to a Seraph.
This adept sorcerer chameleon
from Art now to an Act
Poetry, a gray-haired sorcerer
flaunting his skills Merlin to a Seraph.
This adept sorcerer chameleon
from Art now to an Act
Like a bat from bird to rat.
At first,
his tap like mama's soothing pat
I felt on my chest
and next, this artful sorcerer
magic to a fragile wave
that blow my mind out of planet earth.
my savvy mind glance,
this must be a journey to France.
He says, this is not to France,
just relax, rejoice and dance
as you journey to a land of trance.
A scenery_ an alive imagery
of a singing African canary
salivating a pool of spontaneous flow
a gentle Tsunami of melody
At first,
his tap like mama's soothing pat
I felt on my chest
and next, this artful sorcerer
magic to a fragile wave
that blow my mind out of planet earth.
my savvy mind glance,
this must be a journey to France.
He says, this is not to France,
just relax, rejoice and dance
as you journey to a land of trance.
A scenery_ an alive imagery
of a singing African canary
salivating a pool of spontaneous flow
a gentle Tsunami of melody
penetrating from front _ to back
crawling through all entrances streaming...
over flooding my mind as a whole.
life's melody
whose rhyme time is comedy
a rhythmic beats of tragedy
that moan in the tone of the phones
in the stanzas of life's eulogy
Poetry,
a lyrical oracle commentary
God coil around the tongues of poets
singing inspirational songs of sonnets:
wash stains from human minds
he says again and again.
leave behind no Mephistopheles taint,
splinters of evil in man must faint.
bath them plain
crawling through all entrances streaming...
over flooding my mind as a whole.
life's melody
whose rhyme time is comedy
a rhythmic beats of tragedy
that moan in the tone of the phones
in the stanzas of life's eulogy
Poetry,
a lyrical oracle commentary
God coil around the tongues of poets
singing inspirational songs of sonnets:
wash stains from human minds
he says again and again.
leave behind no Mephistopheles taint,
splinters of evil in man must faint.
bath them plain
for at the end, they'll march along
with my white garment saints.
preach peace north south west and east
from monasteries to monasteries...
when ignorant stinking thinking in human
like a serpent sting
making life softly sobbing,
sing to life
a quiet quiet lullaby.
now,
moving sound waves
from the voice of the lapidary stanzas of poems
will echo! through our divided towns and cities
rounding buildings, a ritual of cleansing.
celebrate no enmity,
impurity and insanity are nonentity
disunity among humanity is a calamity.
For every poem is the lord's minister
the poet : a reporter
a persona standing on the alter.
with my white garment saints.
preach peace north south west and east
from monasteries to monasteries...
when ignorant stinking thinking in human
like a serpent sting
making life softly sobbing,
sing to life
a quiet quiet lullaby.
now,
moving sound waves
from the voice of the lapidary stanzas of poems
will echo! through our divided towns and cities
rounding buildings, a ritual of cleansing.
celebrate no enmity,
impurity and insanity are nonentity
disunity among humanity is a calamity.
For every poem is the lord's minister
the poet : a reporter
a persona standing on the alter.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
THE ARENA!
For Life is an Arena!
a communion
where nurtured starved opinions
battle for dominion:
a struggle for the "Dominus"
of the communion.
A stage of age,
a forge iron cage
whose center is of outrage.
a bewildered atmosphere
where Spartacus hypothesis,
Batiatus philosophies
and Crixus ideologies
gather to eat lunches
and trade jabs and punches.
an empire of gunfire
left and right
shouldering fire
somber ember wave.
Horses snorting
swords clanging
glasses shattering
conflict!
confusion!
ohhhh noooooo!!!
Life is not supposed to be
a 'Capua' of catastrophe
with such an apostrophe!
if life is the Arena,
then love is the character_Sura
Deceit _Lucretia
fate is unsteady_ashur
hatred fumble to be come sacred (Claudius Glaber)
A universe
of vast cultural diverse
where conflict and harmony
solemn*
a goose and gander matrimony.
at dawn,
when we were born,
LIFE is a coolly breeze_a wife
but at night,
our heros and pharaohs
now and long gone
we gather to mourn.
as we mourn,
our oath with fate
catches up with us like nemesis
as death slay our throats
with his blood thirsty knife.
a communion
where nurtured starved opinions
battle for dominion:
a struggle for the "Dominus"
of the communion.
A stage of age,
a forge iron cage
whose center is of outrage.
a bewildered atmosphere
where Spartacus hypothesis,
Batiatus philosophies
and Crixus ideologies
gather to eat lunches
and trade jabs and punches.
an empire of gunfire
left and right
shouldering fire
somber ember wave.
Horses snorting
swords clanging
glasses shattering
conflict!
confusion!
ohhhh noooooo!!!
Life is not supposed to be
a 'Capua' of catastrophe
with such an apostrophe!
if life is the Arena,
then love is the character_Sura
Deceit _Lucretia
fate is unsteady_ashur
hatred fumble to be come sacred (Claudius Glaber)
A universe
of vast cultural diverse
where conflict and harmony
solemn*
a goose and gander matrimony.
at dawn,
when we were born,
LIFE is a coolly breeze_a wife
but at night,
our heros and pharaohs
now and long gone
we gather to mourn.
as we mourn,
our oath with fate
catches up with us like nemesis
as death slay our throats
with his blood thirsty knife.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
A SPILLAGE IN OUR VILLAGE!
On the burnt ashes,
the remaining of our village
stand a frail female Nightingale.
A model widow
looking so pale
from head to tail
A sorrowful song of 'lament'
sour her tongue as she wail
why is our serene village,
our at ease frontage
now a space of bane?
slowly, our joy reduces to anxiety,
to fear and finally to tears of anguish
that sprang from our weepy eyes
and flurry the the surface of the earth.
Why is our once limpid streams
and frontage wells
now a settlement of your cruel fuel;
that natural mineral oil
from our soil,
Your wall street oil,
an angelic demonic fluid
that you boil
whose spillage and leakage
barren our soil of fertility
ino oooooo! YEEH! ino oooo
araa dugbo egba wa ooooooo
araa dugbo egba wa ooooooo
Our spindly legs
rush out of our huts;
our thatched roofs blazing to the floor
chasing us out of our homes
like a snail that finds splinters in her shell.
our water that once soothes
as it smooth our skins
from our heads to foots
now fries our peoples flesh
leaving them skinless,
lip-less skeletal brown teeth
lying on our streets.
Tuesday, February 04, 2014
APOLOGY TO MY PHONE
One night,
i was alright
when a fight broke in my belly
as all worms
march a protest to the telly.
this creatures are so yelling
that i should feed my belly
with a deli of rice
and a glassy tube of sprite
that i bought at shop rite.
i flung you
lying flat on a bench
and you neighbor a sachet of pure water
so chill like a kondes milk.
The pure water gently bent
resting her cold body on you
as it starts to spill
leaking and sneaking into your seals
penetrating the holes
in your keypad skin
streaming deep in and in
into your classy glassy screen.
a gutter of this acidic water
streaming in your blood stream
worming through those tiny cords
of your electronic intestine
till it floods your mother board
oh! my God!
was all my lips could afford
i immediately wish you could talk
when my sight
saw all your strive to resist pain
all in vain
as this toxin stream your vein
getting your mental board in sane.
A call broke in,
a ting
from your grin grin tone
now a horror song
as you groan.
oh my phone !
was my next tone
as our shared connection and emotions
made me moan
an effect that sat me pensive
as i get sensitive
to reflect on how you and me both roam
reading all tomes
from zone to zone;
Jerusalem to Rome
and back home.
i pin my eyes on your screen
as it starts to blink
your multiple colour of blood ink
starts to fade as all colour shrink
now no picture can be seen
you are now a lifeless being
lying on my sweaty palm
i know i have committed a sin
and here is the apologetic me.
i was alright
when a fight broke in my belly
as all worms
march a protest to the telly.
this creatures are so yelling
that i should feed my belly
with a deli of rice
and a glassy tube of sprite
that i bought at shop rite.
i flung you
lying flat on a bench
and you neighbor a sachet of pure water
so chill like a kondes milk.
The pure water gently bent
resting her cold body on you
as it starts to spill
leaking and sneaking into your seals
penetrating the holes
in your keypad skin
streaming deep in and in
into your classy glassy screen.
a gutter of this acidic water
streaming in your blood stream
worming through those tiny cords
of your electronic intestine
till it floods your mother board
oh! my God!
was all my lips could afford
i immediately wish you could talk
when my sight
saw all your strive to resist pain
all in vain
as this toxin stream your vein
getting your mental board in sane.
A call broke in,
a ting
from your grin grin tone
now a horror song
as you groan.
oh my phone !
was my next tone
as our shared connection and emotions
made me moan
an effect that sat me pensive
as i get sensitive
to reflect on how you and me both roam
reading all tomes
from zone to zone;
Jerusalem to Rome
and back home.
i pin my eyes on your screen
as it starts to blink
your multiple colour of blood ink
starts to fade as all colour shrink
now no picture can be seen
you are now a lifeless being
lying on my sweaty palm
i know i have committed a sin
and here is the apologetic me.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
A Dialogue With youths
Lend me your ears youths!
hmmn.... a melody that sooths
flowing from the throat of my flute
Youths! come let's Dialogue.
i've always chew in my imagination this monologue
hmmn.... Youths listen to my prologue.
That DRUG you see is a tug
never you embrace him with a hug
turn your back,
as you disgrace him with a shrug.
Stepping on his noble red carper rug,
staggering as you slog,
a BRT lane to an early morgue
that drug had already dug.
Though, he promised you euphoria,
but! he should in fact be your phobia
oh! what an epitome of mental malaria.
you mind is that citadel,
that drug will leave only retarded;
oh an island so divided.
here is my epilogue
Just don't do drug
hmmn.... a melody that sooths
flowing from the throat of my flute
Youths! come let's Dialogue.
i've always chew in my imagination this monologue
hmmn.... Youths listen to my prologue.
That DRUG you see is a tug
never you embrace him with a hug
turn your back,
as you disgrace him with a shrug.
Stepping on his noble red carper rug,
staggering as you slog,
a BRT lane to an early morgue
that drug had already dug.
Though, he promised you euphoria,
but! he should in fact be your phobia
oh! what an epitome of mental malaria.
you mind is that citadel,
that drug will leave only retarded;
oh an island so divided.
here is my epilogue
Just don't do drug
Thursday, January 09, 2014
LOVE IS TOUGH!
LOVE!
A cold hot fireice they say you are
how did you Merlin your entrance
into my steel stiff heart?
Freelance,
into my diamond hard like heart
you lure your entrance.
In you, I've always been an Atheist (an unbeliever)
How did you grab my heart
making me shiver as i quiver
drowning in this warm cold river
of your sensational fever?
you tranquilize my still steel heart
who always says you're such a bluff,
a fluff,
oh! you're much a tough stuff.
A Wayne of rain my heart is melting
A shower of sun oh a heart so frigid
maybe it's actually tepid.
The most powerful emotional words
is such a freak,
dried of ink to paint how it feels
Hollow!
deep inside THERE is total bleak
Even as i wail,
my heart so pale
just as i smile
my joy, flowing calm like river Nile
I am neither well nor ill
what do i even feel?
an emotion of no motion
maybe now I'm a fiction,
NOT REAL!
A cold hot fireice they say you are
how did you Merlin your entrance
into my steel stiff heart?
Freelance,
into my diamond hard like heart
you lure your entrance.
In you, I've always been an Atheist (an unbeliever)
How did you grab my heart
making me shiver as i quiver
drowning in this warm cold river
of your sensational fever?
you tranquilize my still steel heart
who always says you're such a bluff,
a fluff,
oh! you're much a tough stuff.
A Wayne of rain my heart is melting
A shower of sun oh a heart so frigid
maybe it's actually tepid.
The most powerful emotional words
is such a freak,
dried of ink to paint how it feels
Hollow!
deep inside THERE is total bleak
Even as i wail,
my heart so pale
just as i smile
my joy, flowing calm like river Nile
I am neither well nor ill
what do i even feel?
an emotion of no motion
maybe now I'm a fiction,
NOT REAL!
Friday, January 03, 2014
THE STORM
Lying on my Raffia sofa
comes the quivering of our earth.
a grumpy thunder grumbling,
its sound wave tumbling.
Deep in the ears of our earth,
this horror voice is rumbling.
A dusty rain showering on our roofs;
dark cloud invading white,
a dreadful lightning tattoo our sky.
the highest hills and mountains shivering
oh! Yeh! why is our world trembling?
Oh! No!
A giant 'Iroko' tree has fallen
what a great lost we are befallen
Africa's mind is deepened in silence, sullen.
Our gigantic 'iroko treee'
the sunrise to sunset of your life
is a drive,
a strive,
a fight for freedom
that left you in years of solitude
in the semi-darkness of the white man's cell,seldom.
you are indeed an emblem of our Jerusalem,
a creature of wisdom,
the 'Opomulero of African kingdom.
Goodbye MADIBA
fair well in my native language, 'odigba'
your image will never fade from our imagination
to human race,
you are a wonderful donation
comes the quivering of our earth.
a grumpy thunder grumbling,
its sound wave tumbling.
Deep in the ears of our earth,
this horror voice is rumbling.
A dusty rain showering on our roofs;
dark cloud invading white,
a dreadful lightning tattoo our sky.
the highest hills and mountains shivering
oh! Yeh! why is our world trembling?
Oh! No!
A giant 'Iroko' tree has fallen
what a great lost we are befallen
Africa's mind is deepened in silence, sullen.
Our gigantic 'iroko treee'
the sunrise to sunset of your life
is a drive,
a strive,
a fight for freedom
that left you in years of solitude
in the semi-darkness of the white man's cell,seldom.
you are indeed an emblem of our Jerusalem,
a creature of wisdom,
the 'Opomulero of African kingdom.
Goodbye MADIBA
fair well in my native language, 'odigba'
your image will never fade from our imagination
to human race,
you are a wonderful donation
Sunday, December 22, 2013
WEDDING DAY
Time's town crier came to a halt
at the front of my savvy mind
Gome! Gome! Gome!
boom the hollow metal as it chime.
Time just trickle me
to speak your wedding to the world.
I speak this day to the world
by pouring in your minds my words;
a gentle olive oil
pour on the mind when it boil.
when life tour
is taking you both on a tour
through its bumpy road full of contours,
life gets so slow,
delight seize to flow
oh no what a pain in the soul.
When sleeping bread in bowl of water
making it pass the throat gutter
becomes an attempt
to make the night feel better
Always Remember !
Your marriage is a celebration of love,
a gift from up above
a promise to join force
in life struggle
when it gets tough.
A union of opinions,
a marriage of two united efforts
to each other they must comport
to build a castle of comfort.
A celebration of comfort and delight
that unite;
a promise of delight
whose's fire will never seize to ignite.
Always remember TODAY
A day that love stir
with every pinch of air
in the atmosphere
flowing with the genial breeze
oozing here and there.
Your hearts promising each other care,
you are eachother's DEAR
and for each other,
you must forever be there.
at the front of my savvy mind
Gome! Gome! Gome!
boom the hollow metal as it chime.
Time just trickle me
to speak your wedding to the world.
I speak this day to the world
by pouring in your minds my words;
a gentle olive oil
pour on the mind when it boil.
when life tour
is taking you both on a tour
through its bumpy road full of contours,
life gets so slow,
delight seize to flow
oh no what a pain in the soul.
When sleeping bread in bowl of water
making it pass the throat gutter
becomes an attempt
to make the night feel better
Always Remember !
Your marriage is a celebration of love,
a gift from up above
a promise to join force
in life struggle
when it gets tough.
A union of opinions,
a marriage of two united efforts
to each other they must comport
to build a castle of comfort.
A celebration of comfort and delight
that unite;
a promise of delight
whose's fire will never seize to ignite.
Always remember TODAY
A day that love stir
with every pinch of air
in the atmosphere
flowing with the genial breeze
oozing here and there.
Your hearts promising each other care,
you are eachother's DEAR
and for each other,
you must forever be there.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
"A Seed Sowed With Greed" | Tunde Abdulsalam @savvyminded
Monday, October 14, 2013
THE WORLD IS HIS WORD
I welcome you all on board
to my world of words.
In this ward,
words are sharper than all legendary swords:
an artillery that will behead all wars.
A gentle olive oil,
an antidote poured on our minds when it boils.
Join me in this ward,
as my words persuade your mild minds on a tour
pass the profound of the sea where Goliath wales sail,
pass the Kilimanjaros in the seas,
to the bottom of our sod.
And to the roof of our world
where word rip naked our world,
peel it flesh,
revealing its naked skeleton.
Our shy naked world
where word stand the visible pillars of our sky
as God effortlessly tuck the visible flying arms of our sky
into the top hills of the seas
demonstrating his being 'A GOD OF WORD'.
Our shy natural world in a slow swirl,
charmed by God's magical spell.
A creature of habit,
an addict,
a convict trapped in depth water
by the power of word.
BE! he say.
using word,
a magical wand in his hand
that command sand from our land
to mold the bricks that brand
the walls of our world.
to my world of words.
In this ward,
words are sharper than all legendary swords:
an artillery that will behead all wars.
A gentle olive oil,
an antidote poured on our minds when it boils.
Join me in this ward,
as my words persuade your mild minds on a tour
pass the profound of the sea where Goliath wales sail,
pass the Kilimanjaros in the seas,
to the bottom of our sod.
And to the roof of our world
where word rip naked our world,
peel it flesh,
revealing its naked skeleton.
Our shy naked world
where word stand the visible pillars of our sky
as God effortlessly tuck the visible flying arms of our sky
into the top hills of the seas
demonstrating his being 'A GOD OF WORD'.
Our shy natural world in a slow swirl,
charmed by God's magical spell.
A creature of habit,
an addict,
a convict trapped in depth water
by the power of word.
BE! he say.
using word,
a magical wand in his hand
that command sand from our land
to mold the bricks that brand
the walls of our world.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
THE VISION
***THE VISION***
Every poetic revelation was once a vision
that gently caress my mind
to cherry-pick my diction of imaginary distinctions
and to nurture the statistics of this artistic mission
that poetry has just commission.
my clairvoyant inner mind first sees the aura of the vision;
a cosmos that glitters
like that of a gleaming crystal reflected by sunlight.
I see a mystique whose color chameleon
from white to yellow, orange and blue
like that of the sky at sunrise.
A vision when Poetry promises to be the helper
and the healer of our world
when malnourished minds hurt our sky.
our sky is sobbing ,
Her blue tears dropping
our ocean is flooding
the pillars of our world sagging.
when rage of war lure human to ending,
God command poets to stop pretending
now they need to start attending,
these falling walls of our world needs defending
Man's mind set need re-branding.
seeing our world dancing wrong,
poetry commands me to be strong
urging me to sing a song
that make my tongue
sticky to the upper ridge of my oral cavity
as i battle my too weak to speak lips
and, finally, all words given birth to poetically.
Every poem is a 'VISION.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
***A Pride, Not Bride***
***A Pride, Not Bride***
Towards my savvy mind she is trudging,
restlessness crested all over her pale apparition.
Innocence and sinlesnness in dilution;
the warm red fluid of her blood stream.
A warm red fluid streaming,
Through her chest, her cold warm blood spilling.
Her heart must have been stabbed by a feeling.
Oh! This lass's heart is seriously bleeding,
she Sluggishly lean forward pleading:
Please let your thinking be mild,
think wide,
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
My moma is that teeny bone from your ribs,
My bond to that right of a human is too deep.
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
Why not let nature handle my journey to adolescent?
Why not let me ripe first?
Why Do you hastily thrust me,
unprepared, to that ritual of agony,
a rite of throes to adulthood.
To your sexual fulfillment the ripe me still stand,
my virgin fluid,still, will stain that neat fibers of your bed sheets...
I am your child, your pride
But, not yet your bride.
Walk me to the college with a stride,
Where knowledge's secrets openly hide.
kick your religious misconceptions aside,
All careful decision laws always abide.
I am your child, your pride
But, not your bride.
My hollow mind is still so naive,
Prepare me for this logical battle of life
tomorrow, I'll be your wonderful wife.
For now, I am your Child,
your pride but, not yet your bride.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
A Day
By: Tunde Abdulsalam
Today! few years back, my savvy mind sneaked out of
my chest escaping through my too teeny ribs, 'azonto'
'azonto' into our sky, he dances his way as he flees.
Oh! Our lovely sky that is smiling, spreading a pleasant
blue colour attire that is so cosy like that of the sea at
night...
I see my savvy mind dancing as it wave above all roofs,
past the mountains, height above hills, looking down at
the oceans, flowing calmly, steady, in a motion that is
friendly.
My savvy mind could see the moon dancing, singing in a
sonorous genial tune...chanting: its a wonderful day in
the month of June...
To my savvy mind's astonishment is a Stream of
stars, shining, shimmering, gleaming, and sparkles of light
blinking and winking. I see these funky happy peppy
stars dancing as they flood towards my savvy mind with
a gentle dance of the Daffodils dancing to a mild
breeze's melody.
Wink* Trust my savvy mind grow so inquisitive, prying
into every thin air in his breath, asking why delight
spread everywhere, even in the wee air that flees the
atmosphere ...
A star is born!
A star is born!
Their convivial chant continues:
A star that plight to shine its sparkles of light on our sky
at night.
A star that is so bright as it plight to make Delight and
our world Unite.
A knight with a white bright soul like that of snow
A knight that promise to make the fire of our world and
delight ignite.
Happy birthday my friend Ganiu.
You'll live to feel comfort like that of morning dews
Your joy will always be new
Our proud star of June.
Today! few years back, my savvy mind sneaked out of
my chest escaping through my too teeny ribs, 'azonto'
'azonto' into our sky, he dances his way as he flees.
Oh! Our lovely sky that is smiling, spreading a pleasant
blue colour attire that is so cosy like that of the sea at
night...
I see my savvy mind dancing as it wave above all roofs,
past the mountains, height above hills, looking down at
the oceans, flowing calmly, steady, in a motion that is
friendly.
My savvy mind could see the moon dancing, singing in a
sonorous genial tune...chanting: its a wonderful day in
the month of June...
To my savvy mind's astonishment is a Stream of
stars, shining, shimmering, gleaming, and sparkles of light
blinking and winking. I see these funky happy peppy
stars dancing as they flood towards my savvy mind with
a gentle dance of the Daffodils dancing to a mild
breeze's melody.
Wink* Trust my savvy mind grow so inquisitive, prying
into every thin air in his breath, asking why delight
spread everywhere, even in the wee air that flees the
atmosphere ...
A star is born!
A star is born!
Their convivial chant continues:
A star that plight to shine its sparkles of light on our sky
at night.
A star that is so bright as it plight to make Delight and
our world Unite.
A knight with a white bright soul like that of snow
A knight that promise to make the fire of our world and
delight ignite.
Happy birthday my friend Ganiu.
You'll live to feel comfort like that of morning dews
Your joy will always be new
Our proud star of June.
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
I Need To Know
~Tunde Abdulsalam
I see sexual sanity
strolling pass my mind's vicinity
With a pleasant song of warning saying: I need to know!
I need to know sexuality,
Familiarize myself with its spirituality,
This will make me pay attention to its physicality
And its sensitivity to humanity.
I need to know that our sexual sanity is an entity
That requires all our capacity
To colour our world with comfortable stability.
Sexuality makes and bakes our souls like cake.
A natural appetite that brings satisfaction and at time
nauseas our souls with distress.
Sexuality can as well lure our precious souls to a
distressful
Grave.
I need to know that sex
is like the king in the game of chess
Who breathe wildly like the strongest
And also breathe teeny like the weakest.
Let our minds frown as it turns it back at any sexual
insanity, and focus all in our effort to its sanity
For this will bless our lives with comfort till eternity.
I see sexual sanity
strolling pass my mind's vicinity
With a pleasant song of warning saying: I need to know!
I need to know sexuality,
Familiarize myself with its spirituality,
This will make me pay attention to its physicality
And its sensitivity to humanity.
I need to know that our sexual sanity is an entity
That requires all our capacity
To colour our world with comfortable stability.
Sexuality makes and bakes our souls like cake.
A natural appetite that brings satisfaction and at time
nauseas our souls with distress.
Sexuality can as well lure our precious souls to a
distressful
Grave.
I need to know that sex
is like the king in the game of chess
Who breathe wildly like the strongest
And also breathe teeny like the weakest.
Let our minds frown as it turns it back at any sexual
insanity, and focus all in our effort to its sanity
For this will bless our lives with comfort till eternity.
Moment
~Tunde Abdulsalam
As the day continues to fade, sunset keeps sketching the
trees' shades...gradually drawing us to a future
unknown, forcing us to leave our un perfected past
behind.
I sat under an oak tree feeling like having a wand in my
hand to make time trudge and fall to a crawl, till it gets
to a final halt.....
I wish I can hold time from sweeping away this Moment
that mingle my soul with people of characteristic
combination of opinions, emotions, and behavior.
People whose competence and performance now taste
like a soup whose delicacy is at its supremacy.
People who just completed answering the clarion call and
understand all it now need to lift our nation up...
Our batch B corp members, Walk majestically into the
society where favour will be your neighbor, where
fulfillment will fill your mouths with its flavour and joy
shall be your daily endeavors.
As the day continues to fade, sunset keeps sketching the
trees' shades...gradually drawing us to a future
unknown, forcing us to leave our un perfected past
behind.
I sat under an oak tree feeling like having a wand in my
hand to make time trudge and fall to a crawl, till it gets
to a final halt.....
I wish I can hold time from sweeping away this Moment
that mingle my soul with people of characteristic
combination of opinions, emotions, and behavior.
People whose competence and performance now taste
like a soup whose delicacy is at its supremacy.
People who just completed answering the clarion call and
understand all it now need to lift our nation up...
Our batch B corp members, Walk majestically into the
society where favour will be your neighbor, where
fulfillment will fill your mouths with its flavour and joy
shall be your daily endeavors.
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