BN BLOG’S YOUNG POET OF THE YEAR AWARD 2016.

BN BLOG sets its vision to encourage, inspire and promote creativity in young people. Having this in mind, the YOUNG POET OF THE YEAR AWARD, has been established in order to promote and encourage young poets in Nigeria, by giving publicity to their works and to the poets themselves.
It’s awarded for poems written by any young Nigerian poet aged 0 -27.

CONTINUE FROM -  https://benneth95.wordpress.com/2015/11/25/bn-blogs-young-poet-of-the-year-award-2016/

GET FULL DETAILS AND GUILDLINES

TASTED BEFORE RIPED

That kid
That kid has a steaming story to tell
Something the little soul longs to tell
No one is ever noticing
The child might probably lose it

No one cared to care
Leaving the young chap scared
Dad isn't aware
Mum is minding her wears

What a poor kid
Hoarding much within
All is against the kid's tender will
If someone would only sit and stay still

That kid has a story to tell
There isn't someone so darling and dear
That would notice and hear
How the child self esteem fell
Like a pack of ceramics shoveled from the shelf

Something happened when I got back from school
That wasn't really cool
No one is ever waiting at home
To hear of the day's gloom

I was that kid
Covered with heaps of painted pains and deep deceptions
Unwilling I took it
Frustration fill my soul that night I left the womb
I was simple and simply six-sincere and dear ,I was suppose to be with my darling dolls in my playroom
But where was I
Where do I live?

I live in the cold cupboard of taunting torture
In the arms of a deceiving deceiver,a liar
My uncle
He kissed my pale knuckles
He said: 'see what you do to me'
He placed my hand on something so big,hard,so scary
Like a rattling snake anxious to unveil its venom
He pushed me, hit me and tore me wide open
Like a door with rusted hinges
Coarsed my skin skillfully, with keening desires
Threatened me never to say a word not a sound to any soul
Even though I wanted to speak there was none to listen
I tried finding comfort in my shadow, the only friend that listen and leaves
This kid has a story to tell

I heard the walls cracked open
Breathing on me like a wounded pig
Grunting and panting like one chased by a destructive dem on
Unleashing terrible terrifying terrific terrors
An inhumane human
My tears were cold to his touch my soul was iced but inside of me fire burns
Uncle it hurts
He was deaf to my words
Pain again exploded in my brain like a bomb of fire
Bang... Explosion.. Intrusion... Destruction to my pride; my possession
The touch penetrated into my skin leaving imprints no water can wash
I seem mentally drained and deranged,I wanted to pull my skin off tear off the flesh and free my soul

That kid has a story to tell
No one is there to listen
Memories hunts my dream
And ruins my day
What I'm I leaving for?
I need Amnesia
Holding that killer pill
Ending my life at the end of one two three
I am dead
The child in me died that day

So I mourn for my infant skin
My innocence stolen
My virginity
My smile
Lied to,led on
Used,abused
It was my mother I accuse
I gave birth to anger
I nursed hatred
Breast-feeding sorrows
This kid has a story to tell

Listen to my cries
Listen to the truth in my lies
Listen before my soul dies
Listen to my painful tears
Listen to me
Please

Echebiri Gabriella "Blueflames" is a poet,spoken word artist,motivational speaker and makeup artist.The winner of Eriata spoken call contest and the first runner-up of F.O.S  Rendezvous.She has a strong passion for children

TOP THREE (3) WINNER FOR tPC Wole Soyinka @81

To be sincere, the whole poets that entered for the call for submission of poems in Honour of Professor Wole Soyinka @81, are poets that knows what words are. They are all winners, but the best must stand out. The poems, words, rhythms  and messages are all striking and will make you want to ask for more. At some points the judges had to score with separate sheets like its a slam competition.

We hope and strongly believe that next year will be bigger and better, as poets are not dropping their pen! We are word-Soldiers and we strongly believe in the might of our pen to change and transform society for the good of all.

After much tearing of sheets, refilling of ink, and much saliva, we finally  have winners for the PROFESSOR WOLE SOYINKA @81 CALL FOR SUBMISSION OF POEMS 2015.


All ThePoetryCourt Poets of the month for MAY, JUNE and JULY are advised to be present as certificates would be awarded. Same goes to all shortlisted poets in honour of Professor Wole Soyinka @81 2015.
Winners are also expected.

You are also invited to the maiden edition OF Thepoetry Court   BEAUTY OF WORDS!
An Open Mic/Award and Certificate Presentation Event in Honour of Professor Wole Soyinka @81 2015

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1st Position - Busayo Fakunle with his poem titled  CHORUSES FROM THE HEART

  "They arrived young yesterday,Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.
The emptiness of promised dreams,
The thinness of promised change,
Like hurricane lamp, dies slowly."

2nd Position - Banjo Omogbehin with his poem titled HEROES

"When next nations unfold historical erudism
Let them say I smashed letters in the time of
Tayo Olafioye"

3rd Position -  Joseph Anoze Daniel with his poem titiled LITIREYIOKA

 " Litireyioka
Your songs of grandeur
Would be chanted forever
Even by the fetal souls
Whose swords-
Would've to un-knit your PENSKETS
While dripping sudatories"

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CHORUSES FROM THE HEART

They arrived young yesterday, Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.
Words that walk with the
wind Temporarily heal the not-hales.

They arrived young yesterday,Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.
Fat future they mouthed Sweetly sore our sacred ears.

They arrived young yesterday,
Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.
Our sun no longer pride the day, Well wired senses work without pay,
Our moon no longer brightens the night.

They arrived young yesterday;
Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips. Our pockets are diseased,
Sick tummies we breed, They serve selves in thoughts, deeds.

They arrived young yesterday,
Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.
The emptiness of promised dreams,
The thinness of promised change,
Like hurricane lamp, dies slowly.

They arrived young yesterday,
Hoodwinked by the rhythm of their lips.

Our trusts they stabbed at the back
Our hopes they hide behind their backs.
Alas ,the gathering of
rainstorm, Of stroke, shame…will bring.
Our voices will live…
Strike New Morning (For Kongi @81)
You’re ever radiant and charming, Like the
peaceful paces of silent stream.
Your smile gorgeously glows, Pricey,
Like the pyramid of Egypt.

Your hair illuminates our world,
Like the birth of a full moon.
Your ink inkles claimers of
our culture, Blazing like the midday sun, Shields the weak like Olumo rock, …
Projecting our unheard voices.
Your eyes sweet the sights,
Welcoming, like the Ngorongoro crater.
You're the Uhuru peak among colleagues.
You’re like the rain: No friend, no foe.
You’re like the salt…
You’re like the Nile, For being a MAN is a long life journey.

BUSAYO FAKUNLE BUSAYO FAKUNLE studied English Language and Literary studies from the UNIVERSITY of Ado Ekiti. He was once the president of the department. Busayo Fakunle has published a drama book which made Oyo state ministry of Education's list of literary texts for secondary schools. Busayo has many unpublished poems.

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HEROES

Caught in the claws of obstacles
Struck in the very heart of Phraseology
Their open fist?
Feast on nothing but letters!
They are erudite men of flawless sagacity
When next nations unfold historical erudism
Let them say I smashed letters in the time of
Tayo Olafioye
The masticator of unblemished Lexicons
The Era of Sydney Sheldon The undaunted tamer
of glossaries!
When next nations backslapped scholastic
Heroes
Let them say I interlaced poetic wits In the Era
of Wole Soyinka
The intimidating commander of dictions!

Banjo Omogbehin is a graduate of Mass communication from LASPOTECH and also studied Linguistic at Adekunle Ajasin University. He has written over 100 poems and published two anthologies of poetry and also has some couples of International collaboration in Anthologies of poetry. Most of his poems have won AWARDS and Accolades. He won the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) Poet star Award in AAUA in 2011 and was also the official writer and Choice poet during Prof. Sehinde Arogbofa’s 70th Birthday Celebration in AAUA and the LASPOTECH Literary potpourri Event. Many of his poems have been published in national newspaper and read on national radio. He was one of the pioneer Exco of ANA in AAUA and first two-times General Secretary of the Association of Nigerian Authors(ANA) in AAUA


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LITIREYIOKA

Litireyioka
Your pre-suposed name
When begun your fame
The memorable Nigerian
Not of gore, but pen
The scion of Shakespear
Whom his pen folks fear

Litireyioka
Makes buccals agape
As teeth bump
Along in its locution
Out of your pen unction
With adroitness weaves
And un-weaves with ease

Litireyioka
Whose "Metal on concrete-
Jars" his pen folks' intellect,
The weaver word of cryptic notion,
Nonpareil among literary men,
Is abating in thew, but bedecked
With accolades of grit

Litireyioka
Your songs of grandeur
Would be chanted forever
Even by the fetal souls
Whose swords-
Would've to un-knit your PENSKETS
While dripping sudatories

Litireyioka
Whose literary resplendence
Starstrucks souls
Gradually leaves his penprints
Behind, as he hatched the dawn
Of his EIGHTYFROST byeday, is
A few day behind his mausoleum

MEANING OF LITIREYIOKA

Litireyioka is a coinage. It is coined from "Soyinka," the celebrant's name, and Yoruba way of pronouncing literature; which is "litireso." So, "Litireyioka" is a clipping of "litire" and "yioka" to form "Litireyioka," which means: he is surrounded by "literature." In addition, "yinka" in "Soyinka's name" means to be surrounded by
something. However, rather than personalizing "yinka" in this poem, I used it as second person singular "yioka" (as referral: surrounded by literature).

Joseph Anoze Daniel is a student of OAU. He was born into the family of Pastor and Mrs Isaac Otaru Joseph. He hails from Kogi state of Nigeria, precisely Ebira. He was born in Lagos and later migrated to Ondo where he had his primary and secondary school education. He studies in the Department of Education (Education English) for his first degree.

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SPECIAL GUEST 

Sir Eriata Oribhabor

Sir Enigmatic Olumide Bisiriyu 

Sir Olumide Olulu Holloway

Diane Asenoguan

Uche Uwadinachi

Benneth Nwankwo


PERFORMANCES BY

Hanno Pon Tha Beat

  PoeThick SAMURAI 

Neofloetry

Kemi Bakare Kemistree

Prestige Ifeayin Bernard


  JamesConCo

Tabo-Rated TSoul

Veekthur LyricPoet


Sammy Young (Youngest Commodore) 

  BankHall

  L K G 

EDAOTO

Messioye Affable Johnson


ARCHANGEL 

Vishal (11Years old Dancer) 


GloridPoet

Abiola Inioluwa Oluwaseun


Oyinkasola Adesewa

J Y C 

Bakare Ganiyat Lady Gan

McNevets

 Osigwe Benjamin

Clemency Green

Arch Angel

 Paul Word

Sissy Dirisma

And many more! 

DATE: 28th November 2015

@Navy Sailing Club, Navy Town Ojo Lagos.
3:30pm

No China time o!

E.N.T.R.Y             I.S             F.R.E.E

INFO: 08176861035, 08069257714

Don't miss this, join the train of words NOW!

Call for Submission: Eriata Oribhabor Food Poetry Contest 2015

Putting food and poetry in the same context x-rays the cohesive bond existing between the body and the soul. Having ascertained the inestimable benefits of food and poetry to humanity’s sustenance, ‘Poets in Nigeria’ calls for submission of poems projecting the fusion of culinary and poetic brilliance on the screen of societal good.

GUIDELINES:

Theme: These words are edible

- All poems must be food-related and food-inspired.

- Poems should be coherent and appealing to the senses.

- Effective use of imagery counts.

- Submissions are neither limited to country nor race.

- Maximum of 2 poems with limitless word count.

- Entries must be original intellectual property of the entrants.

- Submissions should be accompanied by brief biography and contact information comprising full name, email address and phone number (in the body of the email.)

*All submissions should be forwarded to eriatafoodpoetrycontest@gmail.com and tagged: "Eriata Oribhabor Food Poetry Contest 2015"

Submission Deadline: 25th December, 2015

PRIZES TO BE WON:

First Prize: ₦40,000, a plaque and books
Second Prize: ₦20,000, a plaque and books
Third Prize: ₦10,000, a plaque and books

*Please recall that this initiative of Mr. Eriata Oribhabor started two years ago, and has established its relevance in promoting food, poetry and poets through awarding of prizes to past winners, compilation of selected entries in the anthology ‘Who Shall I Make My Wife’ and acquainting literary enthusiasts with diverse Nigerian cuisines.

 

Kolade Olanrewaju Freedom
Moderator, EOFPC 2015
Author, Punctured Silence
For: PIN/SFEV

THE CREATURES OF ELÉDÙMARÈ by OLUTAYO JOY OWOJUYIGBE

THE CREATURES OF ELÉDÙMARÈ

Amputated windowpanes, never would close
Retreat I must into the sovereignty of the insecticide-treated net

Cellules within cellules
Sinister atmosphere
The night of the angels of doom.

Like the night of the killing of the Egyptian firstborns
The caliginous atmosphere is pregnant with mourning
Oh! My soul longs for the coming of the next morning.

Sound of spontaneous claps from the people of Ilé-ifè
Moans of affliction and tears of the ancient mammalians
Paint a horrendous picture of invading aliens.

A nightmare of terror
Darkness with horrendous horror
Forceful tenants swarming on legal occupants
Including the gods and idols of our forefathers.

The trust of the skin is betrayed by the night
As it welcomes these strangers into our world
Flying aliens from the grave of Sir Obafemi Awolowo.

The tenebrous darkness from on high
The deafening whispers of the night
All together make an awful sight.

Haunted day-to-day, darkness in every cellule
Royal bodies swaddled like Egyptian mummies
All looking silly like bloody dummies.

One more, two more, three ànkárá wrappers
The aso-òfì that spans from the feet to the face
I hate to say are nothing but a redundant waste.

Mosquito-proof garments in this part of the planet
Only arsenal for the night’s onslaught
Impotent defence of treasured dark and mullatto skins against flying aliens.

The imminent war of the night
Conjure the mind with an evil impression
Must I weep again for oppression?

Lost in the shadows of time
The sun refuses to lend its light
My God, what a night!

The metal pot is adorned
With dainty potato spud
But the strangers only feed on blood.

I wish to trade my tender skin for the mottled shell of Ìjàpá Tìrókò
And I envy the snake that sheds its skin
Monstrous red spots on my youthful chin
A souvenir from the bites of the flying beast.

The acrid odour of the mosquito repellants
Its charm like a hallucinogen
An ultimate act of perfidy.

The stranger hums the songs of horror
In search of another noble victim
And buries its diabolical proboscis to suck blood like an evil colossus.
Mógbe o! Which kin creature be this?!

Streaks of the morning light
Daybreak creeps on brutalized skins of the people
Aftermath of the winged terrorists attack
Princes stuttering out of cellules
Dulling effects of previous night’s fiasco

Our elders say, “Only a mosquito would make a nice man slap his neighbor on the cheek.”
The Ifá Priest says they are the curse of the gods on every citizen
Mosquito — the dread of every indigene.

Cunning as a lustful damsel
Swift as the mountain gazelle
Riddle of the Elders
Unsolved mysteries of Sherlock Holmes
Creatures of Elédùmarè they are.

OLUTAYO JOY OWOJUYIGBE is a 500L medical student of the University College
Hospital, Ibadan. She believes in immortality via writing and she loves to write
about mysteries. She is currently working on her first novel.

Shortlisted Poets in Honor Of Professor Wole Soyinka @81, 2015

THE POETRY COURT 

 (Lets Speak LITERATURE)

 

 Shortlisted Poets in Honor Of Professor Wole Soyinka @81, 2015

The call for sub mission of poems in honor of Prof Wole Soyinka @81 saw the birth of WORDS.

THERE ARE POETS and THERE ARE POETS!

Blog: thepoetrycourt.blogspot.com.ng 
Twitter: @thepoetrycourt
Facebook: Thepoetry Court

POEMS TITLES AND NAMES OF SHORTLISTED POETS

>AKE by Akor Emmanuel 

>UNTITED - Adigun Temitope

> BURIED PEACE by Ali Toyin Abdul

> I WISH I COULD SEE YOU ONCE by Saheedah Mobola Oluwapelumi

> BACK IN TIME by Ogedengbe Tolulope

> FIND ME by Goodness Lanre Ayoola

> Kongi Beats! by JohnMacx

>LOOGUN OFE O! by Adeouye Muydeen

> Lion of Literature by Seun Adeleke

> ABEOKUTA by Abidemi Martins

AKE

Whose voice do we long to hear?
It is Ake's voice.
From whose words do we learn?
it is from Ake's words.

Whose face do we dream to see?
it is Ake's face.
Whose poems do we love to read?
it is Ake's poems.

Let Ake be honored,
let his voice be heard,
let his face be seen,
let his world be learned.

Ake sailed with his pen
across military seas,
yet he stood undefeated
through thick and thin.

Ake still lives,he still sings,
hear his music in poetry
also feel the rhythm
in every beat.

Let ake be honored
let his vioce be heard,
let his face be seen,
let his words be learned.

AKE: a former refugee settlement in western
nigeria during the colonal
days, it is home to the laurent wole soyinka.
here used as
personification in place of him.

Akor Emmanuel 

Visually,
Compelling,
Poetically,
I'm stimulating
The story of a tremendous indigenous activist
Whose poetic language and ethos;
Dances to the instrumentation in lines,
Sings metaphors in verses,
Prophesy symbols in stanzas,
Preaches proverbs in poems
Your aesthetic works
Is an historical body of experiences
You are a researcher,
Searching for the deeper meanings
Of peace and unity
You trekked to become intellectual Aristocrats
In-evolving in social-political upheavals
In you the optimism and belief in Nigeria is
unshakable
Just like your advocacy of the intellectual
culture of your people
You are a carrier of communal spirit and chorus
to those heavenly bodies
You were trained and ordained
To rule different genres
An impetus to young writers
You taught them;
How to use myths in creating the ritualistic
theatrical meaning in drama,
The use of language to find the rhythms to the
depth of the words in poetry,
Characters to see the mirror and vision of the
society in prose.

Adigun Temitope with the pen name Deacon. Adigun Temitope Idealism is an undergraduate student of UNN Email: aidealism@gmail.com

BURIED PEACE

With the dreadful hat men in the middle temple
carting away unsung heroes
For reasons unknown to sister earth.

With the lone mothers in their forties
panicking about the soaked streets
in search of their beloved breadwinners.

With the foetus in its shrouded sac
choked by the fragrance of anguish
permeating the whole neighbourhood.

With the mournful birds
in their ageless numbers
chirping off the nights
In lone voice, stunted will
invoking the spirits of their motherly ancestors.

With the wheezing mosquitoes by the natives’
joint
cackling melodies of distasteful rhyme
that secrete emotion to the bone marrow.

Of our grandpa’s tombstones
Lying side by side the grave pits of their
progenies
Who doggedly lost the fights
To the bloody hands of the unapologetic captors.

Of our robust virgin maids
stripped off before their lustful suitors
leaving them to wallow in tattered flesh.

And the quake by the plateaux
fast swallowing our farmlands
shredding bamboo sticks off the ageing huts
and weighing down our muddy castles
into assembly of rubrics.

Wither the sweet-tongued magic men
who blurred our eye with logs
while savouring our forefathers’ wine
“We shall castrate them in second”
they swore unto high heaven
as thousands catwalk into eternal glory
have the Gods forsaken us again?

Ali Toyin Abdul is a young writer with strong passion for poetry, creative writing, journalism and photography. His literary works have been featured in several national and international platforms which include Naija stories, The Guardian Newspapers Literature Section, words rhyme and rhythms, and black communion: an anthology of contemporary African poets. In addition, he has bagged several writing prizes, including the 2013 change makers club international writing contest prize. Toyin is currently pursuing a Law degree at the prestigious University of Ilorin, and executive member of dream project for Africa. He loves listening to music, reading biographies and swimming.

I WISH I COULD SEE YOU ONCE
Maybe we'll meet one day
of that I can't say.
Staring out the window
Smelling the ink of my biro
I crave for a magic
to wheel you to my presence.

Merlin will do it
Conjuring spirits by strange word
ekta om…sunlit om...
Even Harry Porter of the order of Phoenix
will invoke the presence of exceptional beings
Swisshing...swasshing...elictrum spectrum...
But I can't do it!

I pry to see you appear
In a crack in the wall
Or a slash through the ceiling
A bang through the door.
You're such an exception
that I imagine you in that form.

It's true we're miles apart
In truth I can't make you ride
A fairy train to this part...

But you're a living legend
Your tales traveled across lands.
Tales of how you dared the nose of the guns
How you fought every battle with words
Tales of truth being told amidst odds.
Tales that bring you closer to me
Closer to others
Closer to the world.

You're a fighter
A father
My hero
Our hero.

Saheedah Mobola Oluwapelumi (MOSS) is a Corp member currently serving in katsina-ala, Benue state. I've passion for arts and writing in particular.
Email:joinmeewrites@gmail.com

BACK IN TIME

Back in time,
Our fathers drank directly from the streams
High up in the highlands
From the springs of the purest water.

Back in time,
Our progenitors danced at the festival
Embraced the earth with our feet
And the field grew green in their praise.

Back in time,
Our mothers laughed at the moonlight tales;
Tales on how the tortoise broke its spine
And fed the animals with lies.

Back in time,
Our warriors broke into the sea of the night
And arrived at the disputed field
To compete with the generation of antiquity.

Now, in this time,
We leave our toes in our shoes
To be gnawed at by ticklish bugs
Of an adopted culture.

We forget the fountain
That begat the charmed tributary
And we no longer visit the shaded tree
Where in unison, our mothers sang in glee.

The path once trodden by our fathers
Has become a forgotten lane
And we shatter the hope of our future
By biting the tail of our culture.

Ogedengbe Tolulope is a final year student in the department of chemical engineering, Obafemi Awolowo University Ile-Ife. He started writing poetry and short stories in 2012 and served as the Editorial secretary of Anglican Student Fellowship(ASF OAU) Ile-Ife in 2013.

Tolulope was part of the winners of the five days love poetry competition organised by CAPRICON and SPIC in February 2015 and his poems featured in the LOVE POEMS anthology compiled and edited by Abegunde Sunday. He also emerged the 3rd position in the April Edition of Brigitte Poirson Poetry contest.  Currently, he is the president of Divine Poetry OAU Ile-Ife.

FIND ME

i
my pen drives me
into the wilderness of poetry
and i am lost again!

first, the sarcastic monkeys
force me to write an elegy
for buried rhetoric of baboons

they say they are not good men
i kill them again with darts of apostrophes
i malign the fates of eulogies in dirges...

ii
i sweat sweats and breathe breathlessly
for there are no chasers like the
bold bloody bees of alliterations
armed and armoured in the shield of
assonance...

they chase me with the pangs of consonance

but, providence comes in the vehicles of sonnets
i rhyme with the rhythms sprouts of euphemisms

they pass buzzing... chorusing...
in fierce chords of onomatopoeia.

iii
I climb didactic mountains of metaphors
providence again smiles the colours of similes

the colours of similes...
my pen in the coat of metonymy
has the magical pleasures of pun
it wields paradoxes in the amazements of stanzas

I dare verses of valleys in the personification of
man...

lilies in the beauty of litotes make my bed
and i drink relief from the waters of hyperbole

the nightingale sings me odes in lyrics.

iv

I hear drums of ballads in epics
drunk over the wines of enjambments

I have checked the minstrel
it is a small synecdoche rocking the climax
of the jungle in dramatic poetry

and now the acrobatic dance of irony
in the rapping legs of antonomasia...

imageries and symbolism are served in excess
and this is the anti-climax.

v

i eat the meats of refrains
in the hunts of repetitions...

i chew the fats and breaks
the bones of leathery oxymorons..

i see my spirited mood fading
in the tone of a satisfied parody

rickety to the house of free verse...
a misty blank verse covers my trails...

will you find me?

Goodness Lanre Ayoola (b. 1989) hails from Osun State, Nigeria and lives in Abeokuta, Ogun State. He is a teacher of English language. He has a B.A(ED) in English from the University of Ilorin, Ilorin, Nigeria. His poems are published and reviewed on poetry sites and online magazines. He loves to work with great minds.

Kongi Beats!

If the wings of poetry here upon my abode,
And thereupon my odes chant like sparrow,
If my sonnet to OBA elevate him prides,
And still my adroit fail to acknowledge Kongi,
Whose Muse of 1965,unravel The Interpreter,
I've not yet poetried.

Kongi Beats!!

If my sage jamborees the OLORI to smile,
Even the Oriki of august hunters she sings,
Enormously perturbed forlorn mountains to
flounce,
And still fails to acknowledge the Dance of the forest,
I've not yet prosed.

Kongi Beats!!!

If my Ijala possesses the hunters like liquor,
And periwinkles' tentacles a wave-like flood,
If my pen to cloud, in thunder so boastful,
And still my muse fails to salute The Season of
Anomy,
I've not yet playwright.

Kongi Beats!!!!

If my thoughts to trees bow before winds,
And my gestures, at night felt by solitude,
If my sonnet could sing songs of hope,
And still the Wisdom who opens The 1960 Mask
is not saluted,
I'm yet to be known.

Soyinka
Africa's Greatest
World Renowned
For without thee,
July will not sing in the month of 7.

So...
If she fails to standstill to dawn,
To acknowledge Kongi,
Then she will fade away.


July Poetry 2015
MJA
Macxmillian John Ayo
Collection
All Right Reserved.

Meaning Of Some Used Words.
1. Ijala: Odes sang for hunters. Eg Ijala of Yoruba
hunters simply means Odes to the Yoruba
hunters.

2. Oba: King. It's a Yoruba way of calling the
king in her dialect.

3. Oriki: Appellation. It's used to praise
someone. To sing one's oriki means to praise a
person using traditional based dialectal words. It
is common amongst the Yorubas

4. Olori: wife of the (Oba) king is known as Olori
amongst the Yorubas.

JohnMacx

LOOGUN OFE O!
I was in the Kongi's harvest
where slept and wept many an ake
argal I descried the ake
with a jewelled lion held for the fest
to d beaters' beat we cried 'loogun ofe o'!

but I have seen the ball point
yes in the ball point
dancing as the tabour cried
whilst that mind balladeered
I cried out 'loogun ofe o'!

the lit ambulant circler
in circuitous ambages
and constant collocative locutions
that escape the test of time
even when hollower than a loculus
he stood his words stood
he ran his words stood
he ambulated by the ambuscade
he returned still to stand
by and with his words long that stood
I cried again 'loogun ofe o'!

the ambidextrous letters-smith
in kit kitchen and sorbing substrate
who with his mother's tongue
talks in his father's parlance
agbasaga loogun ofe o!

he fames his works
his works fame him
more are his works than he fames
less than his works still he fames
akiika loogun ofe o!

I asked a congregant
so you are the professor?
Are you truly the possessor
Of this vast ocean that drink nations?
Of these Jewel jewelry
jewelling in the jungly junctions
and peacefuller places?
Making a sense-sensing noise!
kaasa! loogun ofe o!

I had seen your ball points' prints
and your kempt kept head heather
I espied your hands lest I knew you
your hands have voyaged
jewelling circumbagiously
and straightforwardly in the distance
about all the circulatory horizons
scenes, verses, chapters
the polity, the politics, the polity
the circadian clock kens
when clucked the contoured hens
kosiro nbe loogun ofe o!

for other knights that warred
other battlers that battle still
other warriors of undeclared wars
sleep this cutlass in the scabbard!
every birth has seen your births
every aye shall see your clotted blood
every gulp shall eat your cibarious farm and hail
looogun ofe o!

Meaning of some of the Yoruba substrates employed in the poem.

1) Agbasaga meaning a promoter of culture.
2) Kosiro nbe meaning never it's a lie
3) Akiika and kaasa are both surprising exclamatTories
4) loogun ofe o! the refrained chorus in the poem meaning greetings to a hero of gallantry.
5) Ake in the second line of of the poem means a very big goat that is slayed at occasions especially cultural ones. while the ake in the third line is a book written by the hero, prof WS.

Adeouye Muydeen. A native of Ibadan of Oyo State. I am a literary circler in the containment of the three
genres, a poet, playwright and an author. A literature facilitator at secondary level and beyond, educated at the Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-ife, Osun State, I have contributed to both national and international literary journals, in the major of  poetry, and have participated in different literary competition series. Professor WS is my field model.

Our Lion of Literature

From "The Lion and the Jewel"
To "Alapata Apata"
You become the thorn in the skin
The thick skin of despots
Inflicting the pains of Abiku

Your pen roars
Your pen echoes
Travelling around the jungle
The jungle of the earth
Across the Nile
Across the Sahara
Across the Atlantic
Your words travel
With your roars
Consuming injustice
Like the fire consumes
In harmattan

The king of comedy
The king of theatre
You rack our brains
With your neologic magic
Confusing the English with English
You are an ocean
Your depth unknown
Your honour, our honour
The first Nobel of our continent
Your praises I sing
The stooge of Ogun
I sing your praises
The scion of Essay
Your praises I sing
Who will challenge your honours?
Who will silent your voice?
None...with your vault of honours
None...with the temerity of your wit
None...with your white strands of hair
The scion of Essay
Your praises I sing
Again and again
Like the Nightingale sings

My lines must be full
Your years of treading the Generals’ toes
Treading the Serpents’ tails
With your hard boots of words
Defiling their fangs
Defiling their stings
Elusive like an eel
Unchanging like a hill
You are true OSO-YIN-KA
Our compound of wit

Words are the whales
You are the ocean
Words are the fighter jets
You are the sky
In you they thrive
Our Kongi
At 80, the world bows
At 81, the world wonders
The stooge of Ogun
The Irunmole of words

The trumpet sounds from you
The cock of the masses
Calling our attention to pains
That shroud the masses
In the name of governance
Even in your septo-years
Your pen continues to dance
Your words wobble not
You prove your WS
You lay eggs of words on...

As you continue to plough
The world of the living
We will continue to seek your feet
To seek your voice
To seek your words

May your words never wither
May your voice never quavers
Professor of Professors
Teacher of Teachers
The Lion of our Literature

I doff my cap.

Seun Adeleke is a postgraduate student in the University of Ibadan. I am studying Literature in the department of English. I am an essayist, a reviewer and a critic.

Check aoiopenideas.blogspot.com

ABEOKUTA

Voice of olumo has long been heard
Lisabi is a lonesome pathway dried
Saliva tires to return to the called
I know this for the yearns of the spirit aged

5. Egba calls her child
Those both near and far in the wild
Sojourners in the wild
I will to you-the ancestors -
Return a valiant frost

10 coming to terms with the harmattaned floors
For tales to tell of rigor
And hurdle, lakes as acid
And evidenced scars from journeys arid
I will to you-the mothermost-

15. Return a man-made
Proof of my long-lined descent
Leaves part the tree
Yet many sprout after the shed free
Each at its turn new or weary

20 I at mine
To be a green
I am still at sea

[Olumo:the name of the rock under which theegba dynasty originated]
[egba:another name for Abeokuta]
[lisabi:name of egba’s ancestoral mother,theorigin]

Born Abidemi Martins into the family of oni,he is a graduate of economics from the Lagos State University Ojo Lagos.he traveled around Africa and has deep love for arts and music.his first works like "Ojumo ilemo "and "we were toys" were inspired by Wole Soyinka and J.P Clark,Leopold Senghor,David Rubadiri and and so many other African writers.he aspires to become a poet laureate and professor someday soon.

The maiden edition of Thepoetry Court BEAUTY OF WORDS

An evening of WORDS...

Free books for our Top Three Poets in honor of Professor Wole Soyinka @81.

POETS OF THE MONTH for this year 2015 will also be celebrated.

The Beauty Of Words is to use them as tools, to change a failed society! 

CALL: 08069257714, 08176861035

EZEAGU by Uche Uwadinachi

EZEAGU

Lioness of lions,
Hunter of wandering prey!
Your den is my evening-inn.
Blood warms your walls
As rocks cools your toes.
Maiden,
In cat-skin,
Your sharp claws
Tear the rules of love.
I am torn
By your passionate edges,
By hearing
Your maddening roars
In nurturing melodies.

Twenty-days of hunting
Lurk in your
Momentary caress.

Shall I succumb,
Let your tail
Be my morning-towel?
Should I mop cold saliva
From night’s feverish calls?

If I take your
Embracing coat,
Will I forget my famished bowel
(Purring like Daniel’s cell)?

In the wilderness of the jungle,
Life seems hollow
Without your wildness.

I bring
My polished nails
And hardening jaw
To wear the crown of
The Lion of Lions
In the name
Of
Your love!

 

 

©Uche Uwadinachi

Excerpt from my poetry collection
"Love to a Flowerbird ".

Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas!

Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.

Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
ÒI cannot wait for de chopÓ,
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.

I once knew a turkey called........ Turkey
He said "Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?",
I said "I am not too sure turkey
But itÕs nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash'.

Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey'll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends 'FOR LIFE'.

Benjamin Zephaniah

#LOVE and SEX

  DONT MISS OUT!

DATE: 26th - 28th NOVEMBER 2015

TIME: 5pm DAILY

VENUE: KASU ABU SAMARU KONGO

 COME LISTEN TO SPOKEN WORD POETRY!