Rhythm and June

Happy new month guys, I can’t believe it’s June already. It was only yesterday we greeted Happy New Year!!!. To usher us into this new month I decided to put up 3 poems. Two of which were written by very talented friends of mine and the last one by me, the humble learner, lol.

Please Enjoy.


Author: Demola Osifeso

I roll to the left
I roll to the right
The inconvenience serving as an alarm
Alerting me of the dawn
To stand! Wahala
Open my eyes? Palava
I can’t trade anything for this
The tender solace I long miss
Is it the texture or the form?
Or the warmth from the foam
The deep romance, oh that feeling!
A perfect emotional healing.

Inconvenience growing stronger
My thoughts coming with a frown
Greetings and voices!
No! Its Becoming louder!
Eardrums filled with compliments everywhere,
Even the soft foam clunched over my head
Can’t filter the sound
This is so unfair

So I say, get up
And long for subsequent reunion
In what seems so far
But nearer than a twinkle of an eye
I’d be in your arms again
Accompanied with the sheet so plain
How you please me, cant be explained
My comforter,
My bed.


Author: Michael Uwadiae

Black is beautiful, deception they call it.
Dark is magical, witchery they whisper
All we stand for,all we hold dear.
All we know.
Tainted, mocked nd undermined.
How very easily they mistake us for Apes and slaves.

Who is to blame ?
Who is responsible for mockery
The person laughing or the person descending to a clownish act.

Black is beautiful. Yet actions ugly
Dark is magical, blood thirsty gods
We stand for corruption,
we stand for lack of confidence, we stand mediocrity politics
We hide behind our past, we hide our weakness under the clothes of religion and morality.
Our negativity bewilders.
Celebrating when we have nothing.
We have wealth  but in debt.

Oh! When will we covet what is ours and portray a good image.
When will we be celebrated
When will we be mistaken for gods.
Surely it must come soon.


Author: Self (lol)

My future is bright,
my mother told me so.
It didn’t matter that she sold her clothes
and everything she owned except her soul.
Her goal was to see me grow.

The tales of old are slowly in sight.
I’m wondering what will my future hold, silver or gold or riches untold.
Will I be rich and famous or
just another, unknown.
Sigh! Life, I never know.
I can only hope and
pray it treats me well
so I can make her happy
before I bid her farewell.

The future is here
Will my mother be right
Is it really bright?
Only time will tell
I hope it means well
I hope I fare well.