PLEASE HELP ME SIR BY Ogunsiji Tolulope.

There were nights when the wind was so cold

There were days when the sun was so cruel
There were times I felt like I was drowning in my tears
All this while trying to banish the memories we made
I used to miss you like this, you used to kiss me like that
Used to need me like this, I used to want you like that
It was all long ago, but it’s all coming back

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A LETTER TO Oluwafeyikemi BY Micheal Dosumu.


Omobolanle mi owon,

How are you doing? How is the teaching profession treating you.

I can only imagine how much your students must love you and how sad they will be to see you go at the end of your industrial attachment. How could they not? Your overly modest intellect and overwhelming beauty have always been a drug i could never seem to get off of.
Oluwafeyikemi, i am writing this letter because Continue reading


Yet another sad lonely day
The chirping of unfamiliar birds
Make the lonely day more gloomy
The far cry of the noisy children
From down the road
The heavily powered generators and the fumes
My lungs have never suffered this much
Oh I remember when I held my breathe
Oh then my lungs suffered
One would have thought I would die
But I didn’t.

A child I was.
The detergent I swallowed Continue reading

Conversations With My Younger Self- The Frogs You’ll Kiss

This is Absolutely Beautiful.

August's Child

The first frog you kiss will have a name that is an object of importance to the Catholic church. He’ll be the first reason you learn self consciousness because the day after you tell him you can no longer be his back up plan, you pass his friends on the street and assume their whispers are about you. He’ll also be the first to teach you a boy’s lie; a girl called Fortune.

The second frog you kiss will invade the haven you’ll find in the woods. He’ll sit by your side while you write in your special green book and you’ll convince yourself that you’re okay with him being there until the day his breath begins to burn your skin.

The third frog you kiss, you won’t remember.

The fourth frog you kiss will be a final year pressure,the kiss will be brief and unpleasant and never happen again…

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An early morning nugget from Obafemi. C

…And referring to Jesus, who was God, yet he prayed. Per chance in the greatest of all human agony. Blood and sweat were mixed in a service of songs till concrete requests were addressed.
God, dressed as man, bore the pain of man as man.
The paradox was unorthodox yet a promise was set for the race, to perhaps evoke grace. The highest motif was to nationalize the human race into God’s-Race: Grace. The fourth temptation was set by self, the belief in feebleness OVER faith, left the heart speculating the fate of a mission impossible. The fourth temptation was doubt.
Thou art man, know thyself.
Yet in buoyant minutes between leaves of denial, Man challenged God to a test, first time mortality looked upon the unseen.
“Not my will but yours be done”.
He envisioned as the flesh was torn, marking the final defeat of the lusts of the flesh: to be lost forever. The panting was bruised and blood covered his vision to a stagger, the lust of the eyes were dismantled and upon this skin, newness wore a mantle.
In this grief, grief grieved as joy was enjoined, till the soul enjoyed every bit of the shame.
In reverse turns, he spoke appraisals to God. God and man met by hands of God, outstretched. A signature of worship was signed, a recording deal was asserted but it seemed His praise had no rhythm to raise his supplication but in the mask of disorder, the other part of His essence: His presence spoke a better plea than Abel’s blood.

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HOME BY Nwachukwu Olusegun Nwachukwu


Strolling upon uneven lands,

My eyes entrap the departing rays of sunlight

As they line the edges of a distinct cloud;

This cloud, Continue reading