Category Archives: lamentation

ON THE JUDGMENT DAY

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At hereafter, awaits us a great day!
The doomed day when goats will weep
At hereafter, awaits us a great day!
The blissful day for the sheep
Are you ready for that day?

There, no lawyer to hire
There, no had I known
There, some will earn fire
There, others for golden crowns
Are you ready for that day?

There, sinful eyes will birth streams
There, pure hearts will be freed
There, few for crystal Stream
There, many for gnashing teeth
Are you ready for that day?

There, philosophy has no degree
There, ignorance has no strength
There, poverty has no plea
There, wealth has no mouth
Are you ready for that day?

There, you’ll stand before the throne
There, I too will give an account
There, we shall hear the tone
Welcome home or I know you not?
Are you ready for that day?

Hebrew9v27
written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

IN THE GALE OF RAPTURE

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The echoes of trumpet call,
Steal the world with surprise
Within and around the globe
Infants swiftly vanish
From their mothers’ back
And all stars are quickly taken
From the company of dark clouds
O madness rules the streets!
Chasing those left behind
To whirl with the gale of dust
For their skeletal secrets
Walk nude to the scene of shame
Women legs twirl, bodies lithe
Gyrating to the song of doom
The fishers of lust, hunt bloods
From the river of their hearts
Their sinful eyes birth tears
Seeking mercy in their deserted churches
When broken glasses can no longer be gathered
Sun and moon give their fame
To the reign of satanic rains
And the world is drenched
Beneath the showers of tribulations
As the world awaits the thunder of its end

written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

NEVER MOURN AT MY FUNERAL

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Never mourn at my funeral
For I’m not dead but resting
On Abraham’s bosom
Waiting for the call of resurrection
Never mourn at my funeral
You who come in view to mourning
But in you, you’re here to mock
For my poetry exposes your deeds
Do my body what you wish
Please, let it be dismembered
To gratify your ruthless visit
Never mourn at my funeral
You the insect that bites my leafy fame
With your toothless mouth of libel
And you who want my fish
To dive in a dry earth
Throw my carcass into a sea of your lot
Like where brother Jonah fell,
But it will be your endless shame
For I’ve seen beyond the river bank of Joppa
Never mourn at my funeral
You that come in my Maker’s name
Just to bless my end
Go thy way and search for lost souls
In the forest of lust and doom
Wear them a garment of gospel
Before they lie low beside me
And journey hell eternal
Never mourn at my funeral
But mourn for we’re all debtors of death
Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

APOSTLES OF CORRUPTION

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Apostles of corruption are:
The electoral-herbalists!
Of our green-white land
Who steal our cowries of vote
To appease their political gods

Apostles of corruption are:
The newly elected apostles
Who have once preached to us
The gospel of sweetness
But later chameleon to be lies

Apostles of corruption are:
The priests and Imams who bow
Their consciences for coloured-papers
And nurse our national termites
With fasting and thunderous prayers

Apostles of corruption are:
The oiled mouths in parliament
Who read the epistles of foods
While their kinsmen at the root
Are dying of starving everyday

Apostles of corruption are:
Our foolish representatives
In the house of loot
Who speak stony vocabularies
While we hold class beneath trees

Apostles of corruption are:
The federal members
Who forced every student
To study their invented selfishness
In the universities of strike

Apostles of corruption are:
Those mice in black uniforms
And the kleptomaniac body
Who make friends with the rats
And the suckers of our national wealth

Apostles of corruption are:
I and you who refuse to go
Against injustice, lust, fraud,
And all other societal vices
In our respective domains

TO THE DYING CHURCHES

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My eyes covered the earth as the clouds
That lie flat above valleys and hills

All at once I saw men and their deeds,
In the churches, along the streets,

Some for me, others against my wish
My servants are trading me in the church

Chasing earthly fame that shall soon fade
Oh! My temples become where I can’t abide

For I am the Lord who sits not on defiled throne
I’m not in their churches,for I, they dethrone

Enthroning earthly styles on their altars
Preaching wealth, singing sin, gathering cars

They’ve forgotten the scars I bore on the cross
They’ve turned what should be my gain to loss

Instead, they put on the white aprons of ego
While them I died for, now in hell, others set to go

I’ll come to them again, pleading in their dreams
If they repent, I’ll lead them to my merciful stream

If they don’t, my silence to their sinful tale
Shall rage my wraths on them on the judgment day

     written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

WAKE UP MY MOTHERLAND!

http://facebook.com/rowspoetry  [WAKE UP MY MOTHERLAND]

Nigeria, my motherland!
You doss on this floor of self- slavery
And now your snore has brought famine
To eat up your fertile lands
Your forest of green leaves
Has become a jungle of tears
Where our hopes dangle on withered trees
Your high hills of wealth
Have ‘en brought low
By them who hold the hammers of corruption
And when we questioned their deeds,
They pointed their oiled fingers straight
To delude us with dark ‘bright future’
Oh Wake up, from this act of deceit!
You own bow and quiver full of arrows
But little rodent taunt you!
Shame on you, my motherland!
You call strangers to string your bows
And your offspring are mere laborers
In the farm of the men from across the ocean
Toiling, to take from your barn into their soils!
The explosion of bombs in the north,
Fell churches’ walls to swallow human bodies
With the mouth of infant graves
And your misery is crowned
In the world record of infamy!
Oh Wake up my motherland!
For this dream might lead you unto death!

written by: Adesitimi Taiwo Damilola.

SCENTED SHADOWS

 

Scented Shadows

http://www.facebook.com/rowspoetry [Scented Shadows]

I.
Nervous hour a foiled track
scented shadows loosen grim
swell on the patch,
where a hope has taken shelter
page-turners in dissension
hang dreams in mellowed wrench.These yawns tear out the
frazzled lips
defy hearts to the hive of fear
so they may taste none from within.

Before harmattan glance through
an alarm shouting beyond words
glories hung on hallowed swords,
concealed but browbeaten thro
the empty soul of bolted prescience carved in fated conscience.

Scented shadows from echoes
of glassless frames,
raised before the very snubbed eyes
they have journeyed far from the forgotten,
hunting scented smokes in a circle of sighs that gaze at the sun above.

Let not thy heart vanish
to palls of nightmares
far away, where agony tarnish
rebranding a smile on cremated creeds,
thro and fro with hunting deeds
as dreams bored as testicle in its sway.

II.
Scented shadows sinked drain
wandering on this foiled lane
sniffing through patched walls
watering souls with frolic hope
hanging dreams on frayed rope.

Restless yawns wear hearts with tears
trekking through this melancholic hive
humming in teary strive
as the breeze cracked oily lips with fear.

Glories bound on hallowed ground
on our knees a step to bound
in our hearts a mercy seat
cresting souls upon empty sheet.

Scented shadows stood naked
on fated frames
tumbled, fumbled on rumbled slates
hunted by its scented smokes with hate
gazing at the sun’s ray with blurred fates
as we see our faults’ torments.

Shackled souls bleeds in pains
sheltered in the hollow of scented nightmares
as agony shrinks smiles
thro and fro blames roamed
tossed on fated wings
aiming to knock us down
from our dangling dreams
cocooned in its scented streams.

Written by: Oludipe Samuel Oyin and Moses Opara