A Wordy Poet
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Moments like Winter
There’s a moment of cold
This am about to unfold
Do you know the time of cool breeze?
When everything freezes?
Aura of love; filling the atmosphere
Then, we say life is fair!
The red evening
And the people worth having
Hovering o’er us with love
And seeming as a blessing from above
How we fancy those moments
Freeing us of life’s torments
Where we think of nothing but a date
That will bring us closer to our dates
When we long to see our old friends
And our wrong ways to amend.
And with our just found friend-crew
We always we want to start anew
These, we need no ‘hinter’
To tell us its winter!
The Gallant King and His Coward Son
King—Oh son!
When I’m gone
To eternity to rest
The home I’ve known best
Thou art my successor
And just as my predecessor
Rule thy people with love
Like the dew of blessing from above
Show thy mercy above judgement
Put thy people not in torment
Fear him that created thee
Thy number let him be
Then my soul shall rest in peace.
Prince—Oh father of fathers!
Grant me thy rulership power
That this great mantle I may carry
And not to join thee resting fathers in hurry
Under thy shadows I’ve lived
But of me, this burden you cannot even freed?
King—Ah! Yee art son of an eagle.
With chicken please don’t mingle
Let silence take o’er thy mind
In it, wisdom yee shall find
Thy trust; put it not in men
Though, they might appear as wisdom lens
Do you want to be opulence?
Then be patient!
Put on thy courage and be cool
For now is thy time to rule.
[Thus, silent the king becomes; to journey into eternity to meet his creator in immortality.]
Prince—Oh! The great tree has fallen!
Gather your wings and keep calling
Yee that reigns in darkness and torments the living
For now death taste sweet
Carrying me to the deep pit
That my father I may see
And in splendour with him I may be.
[The darkness came and took him, he deserves death by hand to the land where no man goes and returns.]
[On seeing his son]
King—Alas! Its over!
Thou hath broken the mighty tower
And hath threw away the power
Oh yee son of a chicken!
Where put thou thy sense of thinking?
Causing me an excruciating pains
Putting on my hands and feet chains
And a slave even in my palace
Shall I not return to my carcass?
‘Cause my face is covered in shame
For a son I could not tame…
Prince—Turn not my thought to illusion
For my mind has been full of pollution
My love for thee hath blinded me
For where thou art, I want to be
Pardon me o yee father
And gather me into thy feather.
Hide me under your shadow
That thy steps I may follow
Welcome me into thy splendour
That I may share in thy grandeur…
King—For thou have despised my warning,
Following the way that’s cunning
Thou ended thy game of life
Without passing through any strife
Though I’m thy father
But yee have detached thyself from my feather
Though, my steps thou want to follow,
But thou hath left my shadow
For together again we cannot be
Though your soul longs for me
We depart now; I into gains,
And you into pains!
For being born an eagle,
But with chicken you’ve mingled…
[And now, for those who hath been running away from thyself and wasting thy eagle’s power, an eternal suffering waits for thee in hereafter.]
A Wordy Poet
It took me two hours to locate my faculty.
I’m always late to my lectures;
I don’t even know where those lectures hold.
Even the lecturers’ name I don’t know.
It’s so amazing that nobody cares about what you do;
No mummy call or morning duty of chores.
Sleep at anytime; wake at anytime,
It’s nobody’s headache.
Read or read not; it’s nobody’s business.
And when I finally found some acquaintances,
It was hard mingling with them…
I don’t have all these Gucci(s) and Versace(s)…
And all these blings-blings…
They said I need to socialize and be a big boy.
I asked if big boy is a course we’d be offering.
They scoffed at me and said…
“Your locality is a first class sickness!”
I got sick of ‘em and went my way.
I used to be a footballer in my village;
And the kids back there knows me well…
But the campus team wouldn’t allow me in…
They said I lacked the swag to play football.
I asked if swag is another dribble style in the game.
They laughed and said…
“Go and join your village team and play for under 12’s!”
Under 12’s?
I’m 21 years of age already!
I got pissed off and went another way!
I love to sing—very well!
So I tried out one of the studios in the school.
I sang for straight 30minutes doing my RnB;
But the DJ hissed and said,
“You will never be a musician with that your voice!”
But the ladies in my village trips for this voice…
C’mon, I stormed out of the studio never to go back again!
At last, I joined a reading group!
It was hard ‘rapouring’ with these smart asses
They claimed to be geniuses…
But never knew the recipe for okra soup!
Gosh! They bore me with their x+y-z…
I never saw these guys again till exam week…
Heard that they’ve being jerking;
But who cares? Nobody! Not me!
I got tired of the campus life—
The buying of water, hand-outs, this and that…
So, I tried to cool off with some hot chicks
With 500 naira I could have any fine babe—
The first day I tried it, I got beaten!
“It’s 3000naira per round asshole!”
One lady told me as she threw my shirt back to me!
Damn! This place is not like my village…
With that amount, I could have any girl all day!
Until I found something that actually worth doing!
I found studying the greatest thing to do!
In the process, I got to be myself;
Without me forcing myself on anybody except my book.
Not quite long, they said I’m a first class student…
Those smart asses, those hot chicks, those big boys…
Were all around me; ready to give me what I want!
So finally, I could have any girl to myself;
Any Gucci, any Versace or Nike shoes and blings-blings…
My study gave me all these things without me begging again!
What the heck are you looking for in the campus?
I don’t fucking want to know…
Just go and study and they will come to you!
Excuse my French and pardon my swears;
I’m just a wordy poet!!!
Other Books by Daniel Olas
Tyler Smiths: Prom’s Night
Tyler Smiths: A Summer Illusion
His Love Escapades: The Encounter with Rose
Interactive Session with Daniel Olas
Watch out for:
5Hours to Die—a blockbuster novel with intrigue-filled story line. You can read the preview and stay updated by liking the page to know when the book will be out on facebook.com/TYSmiths.
You can connect with the author through—
Facebook—facebook.com/Dannyphemm
Twitter—twitter.com/DY_phemmz
Email—meetolas@gmail.com