THE "REAL-STATE" OF NIGERIA

A fast growing economy in wealth and heritage
A people prided in self belief and cultural abundance
A continental pride, a black nation
A good future born through struggle and determination to survive
A generous nation in demography and psychography
A glory waiting to reveal its crown
An ambitious people interested in the end without considering the means
A regional light, an emulation
A hunter’s trigger, the farmer’s water gourd
Today’s hope, tomorrow’s dream

A music band dancing to different tunes
A twined Gunter’s chain waiting for freedom
A hopeful nation…a waiting people…believing in hope
A rulers’ ruler, yet an unruly ruler
A bright future painted in dull colours
A nation driven by passion, but coordinated in selfish ambitions
A tomorrow always waiting for tomorrow
A sleeping army dreaming of victory
An uncertainty formed in the midst of clarity
An insecurity that lives as the night guard
A speculation that ends up as a mere rumour
A deceived nation thriving in the trade of deceit
A conscious people unconsciously seating on a time bomb

AN OPPORTUNITY NEVER UTILIZED BUT BURIED IN OBSCURITY

Culled from olaoluwabimibola.wordpress.com (2011)

THE DEVIL’S CREED

I am a weapon of mass destruction and I have no heed for “humane instructions”.

Deep down in the woods of westernization I arise, with great disdain and opposition to its vibes;

The dilapidation of today holds its origination to the works of some scholars in the grave,

who did not put into consideration the effects of their minds’ creations

So I must arise and destroy, that which I believe is but a ploy;

To teach my world that in the midst of the “carmageddon”, I can also get as much evil done

not because I care or feel any remorse, after all, the impasse only seems to get worse.

I regard myself a skin-thirty, whose actions are driven by other commandoes I follow

I do not bother if you remain a cinephile of my actions; it will only spur more complications

It is my destiny to destroy my foes, so let me build the feud and fuel more woes

I am not a religion but I thrive under the survival of anyone

Not because they were formed for my own creation, I only choose to use them for my ploy

So your community could be the next, you just wait till I plant my tent,

Oh! Yes me tent. The innocent will always be caught in my net.

Who says my weapons are western? I will never agree

I carry just a gun, some chemical compositions and a cell phone.

My axe to slay is my very own, even if it has to hurt my very bones

So should I regard its discovery as the “west’s-own”…Nay!

   

You are my next target, your children, society and family

I am set to turn every stranger and enemy to a nonentity

I do not exist by name, I only remain in trade

I feel no pain, shame or disgrace

So as long as people die and families cry

I am satisfied that your lives will always be on fire

So keep to mind when you hear a blast on your street;

I am your next nightmare the terrorist

FLOCKING WITH "THE MERCHANT"

Here we are again, at the home of “the merchant”;

“Come buy my grains, I bet they will cook in an instant”.

So we rush every ‘Dick and Harry’;

We buy and buy so much in a hurry.

“The merchant” so wise at his game;

Yes he is the sinister that whisked our minds with his tales

Of how he won different deals without a thinker

Making us feel our ideals must be weaker

So we get home to view our purchase,

Only to be dazed and amazed

that what we deemed as a record purchase,

was nothing but stupidity and disgrace

The morale of the story is simple to explain

But in all honesty very difficult a method to retain

It is all about why we busy-buy those wrong ideals,

from merchants-of-folly we call friends and buddies

Life is a lesson and yet the teacher!

Flocking with the right company is the only way to save the day

As long as we do not remain in the world stained with sin and blisters

We are surely bound to escape “the merchant’s” deceit that has caused so many “success-delayed”

By Olaolu Abimbola 2011

WHEN THE DOCTORS SAID "NO"

The patient, perceived as a weakling

His perspective of life, solely dependent on his state of mind;

Melancholic suppression and pity for the dying form

The bloodline driving towards a meaningless end

The only hope at the theatre is hopelessness

Deaden of the nerves, physiological disjointedness

Fear permeates every corner,

The only sound; the wheel of the stretcher

Now he is no more deemed a weakling

His falling and failing is visible

The noise on the outside is that of a shepherd’s calling

All that can be understood lies in the last prayers of the sheep at the slaughter

Survival becomes scarce, the smell of oxygen an expensive dose,

Self determination to live carry little or no weight, success is now an uncertainty;

Hope, then despair; trust then caution

The gasp gets faster, we fear for drooling approaches.

The medicals for a second assume the position of “the mediocre”

Then the clocks stop and the room is quiet;

There is blood everywhere and the spatulas have done the splitting

Then silence! The most uncomfortable noise in the theatre.

The team begin to depart, the veil covers the victim;

Melancholic music in the air, o not really but the noise of the sympathisers

In a minute of two it should be over- how hard it is to live with the bleed

No pulses, only voices, but from outside, not inside.

Then in the twinkle of an eye the springs shift, and the bed re-rumpled

First of all a scare or the remembrance of “The Invisible Man”

A little jostle of the legs, then the final stretch

We all rush outside, not inside,

Fear in delight, surprise in despair

But now comes the real tears, he is back to normal

A cold cough and more movements

He is alive, somehow he came back

A tear then two, the multitude join in the rejoice

It was a long wind, but success was achieved

At last he is free to go home and live in peace.

We cried for him – in pain, but in return he gave us a smile- in exhalation as we sing!

-’laoluwabimbola copyright 2011

Living My Life!

Lost we are in the forest of our lives

Washed in the waters, of quietness and bitters

Clouded in mystery, cocooned in webs of feelings

Silent we remain within, considering the sounds deep-in

But overall, we are to carry ourselves

In the threshing land where everyman holds the fort for himself

We only battle to catch our lots within the continental shelf

Filled with no food but animal shells

I have tried so hard to find the place called happiness

In fact toiled all day to get but sadness

Regardless of how much I search everywhere

Only what I considered satisfaction took me to where eagles’ dare

So what is life that we have so much treasured to live in care?

What is hope that we have always desired to be the best for another?

Is it that we are wrong and we must always but fear?

Or maybe we should only bother; maybe we should live is despair.

So I discovered that it remains my choice to be happy and to love

Not to care about how I feel or what others call my loss

That if I do not enjoy every single moment of my life and really do

I am eventually ready to sing a song so dire and fueled in doom

Love, life, choice and care; four words I use but not in despair

To love as if it’s like no other and to live as if it is my last

Yes to choose what I want or the other

But most of all, feel free to care and live my life just for me, for life

-By Olaolu Abimbola 2011