Colours.

by Ayeni Tolulope

I wanted all green, but I dressed in cream,
Didn’t understand why; maybe it was just a case of blues,
I felt grim, hot and red,
offended by all this glamorous light.
Oh! What I’d give for pink,
Or another shade of colour different from this eternal light,
But remember, a forbidden darkness is black,
Since the evening sun still glows golden-yellow,
Perhaps, I should just stick with my cream,
Or move closer to mother earths’ green.

black child

by Ayeni Tolulope

The blood of the deep,

hoisted from darkness,  
drank by monsters,
each drop a curse,
where it touches death yields,
in fields of sorrow,
our seas boil with its curse,
our hearts darkened; a gold-lined purse,
still it courses out in rivers,
each drop fuelling an inferno,
in the end it'd drain,
and the deep would be our end.

THE DROUGHT

by Ayeni Tolulope

shadowy lies,
drawn across the skies,
a darkened temptest,
brewing on for miles,
the threat of an out-pour,
the air; still yet charged,
our herds, look on longingly,
children scamper for safety,
we hope, pray, then beg all gods,
a few drops, the earth groans,
the shrill cry of our shaman,
joy, rejoicing; finally rain,
lightening draws from the heavens, our ancient groove struck,
songs stolen in second stanza; speechless,
the rain trickles then stops,
sighs..... moans....... sobs,
the drought never ends.

A CLAN OF FIVE AND A HALF MEN

by Ayeni Tolulope

sound the gong, call forth to meet,
the five and half men who rule our meat,

sound the gong, call forth corruption,
the marauding bastard milking our nation,

sound the gong, call forth poverty,
the eater flesh and taker of purity,

sound the gong, call forth theft,
the beast, high and lowly takes all that we've kept,

sound the gong, call forth murder,
the masqurades with guns who make widows our mothers,

sound the gong, call forth the sick preachers,
the maker of bombs with leeches as teachers,

sound the gong, call forth the half,
a hope for tomorrow? We five scoff and laugh.

WISHES OF A FOOL

by Ayeni Tolulope

i woke up last morning without my hose,
i woke up this morning without my nose,
i got up and groaned from a floor filled with ice,
and wondered what more i'd pay as a price.

I woke up last noon in search of a loaf of bread,
i woke up this noon in search of a bite,
perhaps, my salvation lies only with christ,
or perhaps in the next bottle of rum or of sprite.

I woke up last evening without my meds,
i woke up this evening without my legs,
i sat up and wished away in foolish plight,
of course, if wishes were horses fools would be knights!