by KREATIVE DIADEM | Apr 10, 2017 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
INTERVIEW TO BE FELA’S NEW ASSISTANT
by Kanyinsola Olorunnisola
—01
your tunes have parted me into broken waters
searching for their own name in the tongue of
Oya, the goddess whose wisdom can pacify
the thirst of a sojourner on a quest for history,
for the lineage of family, for the home of memory
—02
we have heard it said time and again
that those who do not leave their houses
never find their homes, for the origin
of my blood is planets and footsteps away
and your tunes, which shattered me into pieces
have brought me back into one cacophonous cohesion
—03
let me be your disciple, your only family,
my friends say I deify you but no one understands
that when you have been broken once by a song,
only the minstrel can make you whole again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kanyinsola Olorunnisola is a poet, essayist and writer of fiction. He writes from Ibadan, Nigeria. His writings border on the themes of unease, racism, colonialism, terror and all things familiar to the black folk. He describes his art as that specialized literary alchemy which aims to extract beauty from the frail commonplaceness of words.
His experimental works have appeared or are shortcoming on such platforms as Brittle Paper, Kalahari Review, Bombay Review, Lunaris Review, African Writer, Sprinng.org, Authorpedia, Kreative Diadem, Parousia Magazine and Sampad International Journal. He was the 2016 recipient of the Albert Jungers Poetry
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Jul 13, 2016 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
NIGERIA, HOW FAR?
Nigeria, when did your beauty,
Doused in rarity and clement grace,
A feast to the captured eyes of suitors,
A muse to the enthused voices of minstrels,
Become the protagonist of tales told
About remnants in the bowels of yesterday?
Source: www.bellanaija.com
How did your wild flames of fame,
That burned through the ears of the wind,
Across the silent oceans and restless hills,
Encapsulating the world in feverish awe,
Get quenched by the waters of corruption
Within the infant years of your freedom?
How did your foreseen blinding future,
A halo of distinguishing lights,
With the songs of angels in your eyes
Heralding a glorious tomorrow,
Turn to a perilous reality of gloom
And the plight of a defeated old hag?
I am the child of the night
Borne of the darkness of your bosom,
I am the cry of the earth
Bleeding out shrieks of your damning sins,
I am the crying child, probing, asking,
“Nigeria, how far?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kanyinsola Olorunnisola is a bibliophile who believes in the power of literature as a burning sword to tear through the curtains of darkness which becloud the society. He has been published on several sites and anthologies. He has had the priviledge of clinching a few literary awards in his quest to influence the world through the might of his pen. He is the brain behind the SPRINNG Literary Movement.
by KREATIVE DIADEM | May 19, 2016 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
THE RULERS OF RULERS
Many years ago, from the days of yore
We learnt fine tales from fair folklore
Of men who got bored of poultry-farming
And thus made for some thrilling enslaving
They ruled and ruined, they even became gods
Other lads’ sweats were their daily cuds
They lied, saying we are the electorate
When really we have no mandate to elect our fate
They said the people possess the sovereign power
Perhaps what they intended was suffering power
Source: www.bcssgilliescivcs.blogspot.com
Photo Credit: Mana Neyastani
They promised us seventh heaven on earth
Only to later appease with ‘life after death’
They oppressed, suppressed and often repressed
Buttons of tyranny they endlessly pressed
They got drunk from the calabash of power
And sunk into shame, high as the Eiffel tower
Seeing as few men molest his virgin land
The Good Lord blessed some men with ken and pen
These arose to battle, they arose to fight
With the pen, they placed next to the tunnel some light
With words, they fed the hungry
And with words, they freed the sundry
They are the tapes of reason, the rulers of rulers
They are the keen ‘Benjamins’ and incubi of ‘Squealers’
They are the daring vanguards of journalism
Wielding placards against the dons of Nazism
Their pens have again lined the clouds with silver
Their quills have caused ‘the gods’ to quit and quiver
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
‘Kunle Adebajo is a potential colossus at law, honing his skills at the shores of Nigeria’s premier university, University of Ibadan. Sadly the waves of poetry, oratory, writing and generally not minding his business have diverted his attention from the Isle to the endless majesty of the sea. In his trance, he has discovered that there are a thousand roads which lead to the doorstep of justice. He however hopes to retrace his footsteps to the law books soon enough. When he is not writing or preparing for a speech, he fantasises about life as a married man.
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Apr 5, 2016 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
NIGERIA ASLEEP
In the morning, the waves are friendly,
the pulse from the breathe of mother Nigeria is embracing,
with the welcoming harp of our beautiful anthem,
of the morning shines with pure patriots,
have you not gone to sleep? my dear Nation!
A bump into our persons with diversity,
the black skinned, the fair skinned,
the religious, the atheist, the rich, the poor,
tangled in one nation,
a nation with differing scene.
Source: www.shuttershock.com
My dear Nation typified by exploit,
are there no wealth for the common?
the rich eat the fat meats,
and the poor live on skinny bones,
have you not gone to sleep? my dear Nation!
My dear Nation of populace living for few,
and your West is every man’s land of comfort
the North, an alien to the South
and the South a no-land for the outsiders.
why are your children with prejudice?
My dear nation, the giant of Africa
why is your economy crashing so deep into the sea?
will your existence be of no impact than suffering?
where are your resources? where are your innovation?
have you not gone to sleep? my dear Nation!
Nigeria is a great Nation? or Nigeria was a great Nation?
When will we have our NIGERIA?
It has been a very long time since our country gained independence. We are old by number ‘together’ but have not seen our self as ONE INDEPENDENT NIGERIA.
Concept of Biafra, BokoHaram, MEND, Corruption and the likes are locust eating deep into our Nation.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A.A. Aremu is a graduate of Moshood Abiola Polytechnic, where he studied Accounting. He is in constant search of knowledge and loves the pen.
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Dec 11, 2015 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
The Àkùko gàgàrà bears her gossips from town to town
Gossips of me being nothing but a greedy clown
The rat at home tells it to the farm rat and to the squirrel
Even the Irúnmolè informs the ancestors of our quarrel
This woman that I married was once sweet and delightful
Her hourglass figure and fair face that looked so beautiful
But now, the roar of a lion is nothing compared to her intimidating tone
Chai! Mama Déró’s words are quick and sharp — cutting into my very bone
The talking drum of Àrèmo murmurs something about my manhood
My own friends and relatives are afraid to visit me in the neighbourhood
They are not even sure if I am the true son of my Father, the great warrior of Ìjèbú land.
My God! I wonder if my manhood is still intact.
Mama Dero
Mama Déró is a terror to all — to the Chiefs and even to the Elders.
She once tried to poison me but the Lord was my Shepherd
The old women shake their heads at me when they see me pass
I live under the tyranny of a woman called Bashòrun Gaa
Kai! I married trouble. Perhaps I was under a spell
Perhaps she was an angel of Lucipher from the pit of hell
Her fair skin that glowed in the dark hid her true colours
I actually thought she was a woman with learned cultures
Aso-òpá mewa, fifty gorodom of epo-pupa
Forty-two tubers of yam and two cows, she asked for her son’s birthday
Haba! Kílódé? Is it a sacrifice to appease the gods?!
Where does she want me to get the money from?!
In fact I wonder if Déró is truly my son or a bastard
O jìgbìjìgbìjìgbì! I cannot even send my own son on an errand.
“Don’t kill him for me,” she says, “Go and get it yourself.”
Egbàmí kè! Can’t I send my own son on an errand?
Oh! I should have known Mama Déró was not a saint
I should have known when she cursed the deaf man that lives down the street
I should have known when she agreed to marry me against her Father’s wish.
Little did I know her father was only trying to warn me that his daughter is a witch.
O wretched man that I am! Who shall save me from the tyranny of Mama Déró?
P.S. Symbolic characters: Mama Dero represents the Government, the wailer represents the people of Osun state, and Dero depicts the economy of the state.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OLUTAYO JOY OWOJUYIGBE is a 500L medical student of the University College Hospital, Ibadan. She believes in immortality via writing and loves to write about mysteries. She is currently working on her first novel.
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Nov 30, 2015 | NIGERIAN POEMS, POEMS
RITUALS
The rain comes,
clouds heavy here
but rainbow is missing.
Merger of shoddy elites
occupants of floors in
assemblies of nation’s houses
sited on national rock.
Postmen of economic issues
servicing to occurrence
scarcity of resources,
for whom we produce.
Source: Internet images
Abandon citizens
to tears of blood
rainfall of sorrow
enslave minds – sycophants,
exertions Earth gold futility
vanity upon vanity.
The rites proceeds in terms
Poverty,
Education,
Insecurity,
Projects of politics
won by thumbs signatures.
Sits in dark corner
by wall of defence
in exile of tormenting pasts
into petition of hopeful future.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tola Ijalusi is a native of Ado Ekiti, resides in Ibadan, Nigeria. He writes to address certain issues in the society.
His poems are published on various literary journals and magazines such as PIN Quarterly Journal, Tuck Magazine, The Poet Community, Lunar Literary Poetry Page, Literary Vox etc.
He was also featured in the 2015 31 Days of Poetry on EGC CREATIVITY.
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