PsalmsInk

That our children may not think of us rootless We shall say now, Before this cold breeze freeze our ink And the dumb death seize our mouth, Before we won't be able to eat again or breath again, We shall tell now; How we killed our father. Our identity, the feeling agent Intact; neither faded by sun contact, Constant; nor changed by the dark of night But if today, yesterday's black turns devil on whites' screens, Or paints villain in their novels; It's at the emergence of grudge, That our low lullaby becomes an insult. If we were ever handicapped, not culturally And our tradition could not be frightened by any custom, Not on any challenging or norm less road Charged was our respecting speedometer, But if at dawn a cock crows tomorrow And a naive native son deny father a humble prostrate, Knot the blames on the neck of last stroke. On that shameful market,  by the street Before our pride was being priced for naked, And my sister's navel da

Where am I coming from? This breeze, to where is it driving me? Is this the entrance of heaven? Or the exit of the earth? But for real, I died last night. This junction I am, two things I seek The said river Jordan, And the prophesied mountains That I may swim in or climb my next life, My usual home,  a casual resident, now. Why is there much noise? Why are people crying? Like am of importance? Like they truly care? Like they will really miss me? Last night, I embarked Unkept,  unloved,  uncared, Last night, I blown my final breath To the winking death's nose pit, That I may hook with someone, at least. Like a leper, I was thoroughly avoided My sour mouth denied ached belly, To take the cure, no one would console The non transmitted illness called But all angles showed me no carer. Why is there much noise? Why are people crying? Like am of importance? Like they truly care? Like they will really miss me? Now I stand with them Pointing my own g

Solemnly, the race started in dark With gists, with talk and walked  to smiles, Like the nailing of that saving ark Our friendship quickly run miles. She's a bird of my feather Times with her- a homely one, In space we flock together Without her- a lonely run. Now love I shown but err was seen This rightful wrong, who shall amend? “Just let me be"- all she sings This loving journey , is this how it'll end? Our departure, my mind it tortures This friendship ought to be nurtured. #PsalmsInk © Samuel O. Ogunyinka, (Psalmist).

If it's impossible to know where your tooth was first shown I tell you won't know which grave your body shall be thrown, Each time you want to ease your mind in sleep Whisper to the Lord your soul to keep, In case you die before you wake That your soul may be committed for Lord to take, In every of your steps, day of death you must keep in mind The reason am writing this- to my unborn child. Occurrences occurred, matters arose, some issues I've seen But a less me couldn't help, may God forgive me because inability is a sin, Be always ready to help, be strong in every ramifications World is a war front, courage is the only  ammunition, Every moment is ever ripped to start good Grab opportunities, never be a dumb goof, Start thinking differently since you descend from mum's heaven, Seek advice from your elders, but life is but deceit- be careful! To your own mis/furtune you're the architect Sadness is a choice, but you can decide happiness,

Aiyé p'égba lóòtó, dúníyàn ní kòrò mogbà, Sùgbón, aiyé ń dùn ní ìlú òdúndún Níbi wón gbé ń pé jo je'su àmódún, Ewà ń be n'ilè èwà láti rí, fún eni tí ó wáa, Kòkúmó, omo òdò àgbà; Ìbá wùnmí, k'ádìjo tó àádùn wó n'ílè adùn Ò bá máìlo, ò bá dúró j'aiyé. Bàbá sáré sáré, ó s'apá títí, eyín k'orógbó Ìyá bùrìnbùrìn, gbogbo irun orí d'efun, Ègbón be'gún l'ówè ebo lo s'íta òrun Àbúrò ń fi ojú pon'mi ekún láti òdò ìrònú, Kòkúmó, omo òdò àgbà; Ìfé eiyelé, ìfé òtító l'afi fé o, Ò bá máìlo, ò bá dúró sanjó. Omi èémí yìí l'apon nítorí re Bóyá wa jé fí bójú, bóyá a jé wè ó mó sáká, Ebo l'afi ránsé s'ájùlé òrun nítorí re Bóyá a jé fín, bóyá a jé d'éta òrun gúregúre, Kòkúmó, omo òdò àgbà; Nítorí 're a làkàkà, 'torí 're, as'aápón, Ò bá máìlo, ò bá jé á l'énu opé. Egbé ń jan'sè món'lè bí eni ìjàlo gbé n'íyàwó Ogbà ń jan'ra món'lè bí eni ará òrun lù, Ilè l’osùnsí yìí

Water burned to ashes, so I packed to cook a tale, Pinch my sleeping skin when it's done down to dawn For this silence Jah, I have his-tory to dish, Before my eyes; The thick and thins worshipped, flesh in his shrine. From the noon-worlds' playlist, a forgotten finger jockeyed Imbibed legs dangled to foothold steps in a bit to beat the beastly beats, Holiness has dispersed in the absence of the spirit Before my eyes; A whore claimed usher, accessing hoodlums to the pulpit. I traded my wondering mouth, so wide To cover a lackadaisical event, so wild, I wish I could talk, but I say, I could not talk Before my eyes; “Give me some more bottles", became their hallelujah. At a corner in the city, I saw a church on fire Like the early spirit, I saw naked smoke, hovering in the air, His comforter felt not at home, who shall tell the sender Lord? Before my eyes; An holy sanctuary turned a beer garden- a sinful gathering. #PsalmsInk #Before_My_Eyes #Chur

I doubted if she was my mother Little me alone grounded on walker, And despite me crying loud and louder “Don't worry, someday you shall conquer" The all time killing answer she had to offer, For once, can't she just obey her baby order? Meaning for this, I couldn't find Just named it negligence in mind, For if you ask her the reason behind “A discipline for the mind of little child", This, a one and only point to be outlined Times she has said this, who can remind? Glad, when I was riper she called Explained disciplines she had taught; That, not all I search would be caught Not all glittery things should be bought, All shown up enemies could not be fought Above, I should mind my speech when I talk. Without mesmerising the raw fact These I heard and followed the path, And now I feel happiness in my heart Though I've thought it as a wicked act, But now, as I am thinking about my past Truth be told, I'm graciously smiling at last.

In my father's house; We had many, but few to tell, A balcony, the ground for many peers A portrait portrays our numeric worth, And a dangling alarming chained clock The one that calls mother to call us to answer the school call. In my father's house; No tenant, not those mouse paid a dine Yet they dominated the walls, so cracked, Till they married Mama's favourite robe, And Papa issued a ticket to better heaven Then we closed their chapter in our story. In my father's house; Abode of rainbow, coast of many colours, Reggae and blues, song of many beats Wheat and tears grows like no difference, Still an unnoticed snitched like Termite Yet a parasite slowly bit the giving finger. In my father's house; There a library of an unscripted story Of a friendly enemy, a familiar stranger, There a stage of an infinite drama That ended in dispersal of the characters, When mama was gone to find the pen, which papa lost to the bosom a cold death. #Ps

For all, if life was easy at Ajegunle Then my brothers wouldn't be spraying bullet, For all, if life was easy like those of Bourdillon Maybe my sisters wouldn't be selling their body on, If I wasn't born with a silver spoon, shouldn't I snatch one from a dosing deity? Poke not my errs, blame the society so dirty. That I may live, to leave I broke my shell Who drew these lines on my palm, I can't tell, Gone ago, was adolescent with a mind of Dove Fed with a long spoon of harmony and love, Now the smooth earth bleached a new face My choice dangles on seeking its latest phase. In this city, “no love" is the crowned word My white mind impels me against the world, I've strived in getting the comb to have a taste of honey But it seems the Lion has swallowed the money, With friendly enemies I daily have my meal My shadow, my intimate, in dark; it leaves me. In my dream, I held a strong tower of intuition But I opened my eyes to behold a peg o

Last night;  In my dream,   I dreamt of you    Stood before me,     Yet, I could not talk      How much I missed you,       You flee across my path        Still, you could not chirp,         To disclose your location . Meeting you gave;  A few days with honey   Long nights of heartache,     Dreams come and go really      Only this one left me a topic,       Till the daylight morn with me         I shall ponder and keep pondering,          That you might show up tomorrow            To give an informative smile, at least. Wish you can ever know;  How much I've searched you,   Shadows waved me bye in jungle    Sickness of the arduous trekkathon;      Embalmed Moon's foots in cold pains,       Now, before the next unmapped quest        Wherever you are, remember me today,          Before my breath gives a left-right nod            Come back now, and say a warm goodbye. #PsalmsInk #ToHisRunawayBestie #A_Strange_Friendship © Samuel O. Ogunyinka, (

 We're the seeds of Delilah The modern day disaster, We're the dark forces of pleasure Packaged by illusion as treasure, We're the remorseful tears on mama face Bringing ceaseless rage to father's days, We're the vicious snakes that crawl at night On cold streets with no tinge of morality light, We're the fragile flowers that flaunt deceptive beauty But deep within us are hidden stinging bees causing cruelty, Tell these randy seeds of Adam to tame their libidos Or else they shall pay dearly with their future shinning goals, We're the engulfing night with permanent darkness Waiting to invade your joyful dawn with recurring sadness, So run into the safety shells of your parents warnings Or perished hurriedly in stubbornness with undying sobbing, For we're the slayer of dreams An intravenous poison to your blood streams. Tell the premature daffodils to beware of an emotional scam Roses have withered in our touch and lilies in our arm, D

Morose mind, sobbing soul and hot heart Inner man, in a prolapsed agony being sunk, Yet this skinny skin ever proves a negligence Yet this boastful boggy body denies to stink.  Sweat in vain, blood- a stressful product This temple is lackadaisically fine-tuned, But of a softly smiling suffering's story;  Who shall hear and give a up-down nod? Across an horrific pedestrian route Slowly as I keep zapping the street,  Finding worse aghast in a barren today As tomorrow I was hoping yesterday. Like a seed planted on solid rock- no hope This ill race of life, I wish I could re-run, I wish I don't die, I wish I could return If I can't befit, I wish I could retreat. But as I go, this board keeps telling me Maybe now I'll believe it's speeches;  That it shall soon be befitting, This unfit journey.  #PsalmsInk  #For_A_Depressed_Mind © Samuel O. Ogunyinka, (Psalmist).

I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is ability, there is skill There is an excessive pride that do drill. I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is pleasure, there is choice to agree There is an overlooked sin that do kill. I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is forest, there is tree There is togetherness that pushes a wheel. I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is today, there is penultimate week There is unfamiliar family that gets weak. I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is giving, there is greed There is a no-love city that gets rid. I know not of whose call is trick or real But of a thing I know and acquired for free, There is wind, there is breeze There is an uncovered so

I am freedom, 4days ago, I had no nostril I breathe through mother's pit 4days ago, I had no legs I was just a depending parasite, 4days ago, I ran off choice I was bound in her womb 4days ago, I danced to her heart beat. I am freedom, Penultimate day, I got a life, With time, getting riper and bigger, This regretful journey, I sent not myself Into adventure she bore me, To find my tribes, to live with them In a settlement yet unsettled, A vision to mission she portrayed. I am freedom, Yesterday I arrived, to this callous city I met not Happiness; he ran for his life, Peace has gone, to bury the murdered Love Whom Joy morn to a floorless dungeon, Only a helpless one-legged Justice, I see Hovering sympathetically in fog of the cloud, Injustice has gotten this ground. I am freedom, Today, I shouldn't have been diminishing Using chain as a tie for suit I never wear, My body for bread and sweat for water I'm a giant, why should I be captured h

Is this the whole life we came? Or behind tomorrow is another frame, Excuse me papa, pardon me momma Sometimes it breaks my mind like an hammer, This unquestionable God is whom we can't question, But why do we have to breathe all our breath in tension? Or, are we really borne to suffer? Daily we keep struggling till the sun lost its ray With us, everyday is just like the other day, To success, we keep labour for its hem so pretty Yet, capacity fails us to acquire a key to the city But, why do we face weakness before we spell greatness? Why do we have to live in horror and in hatred? Or, are we really borne to suffer? All that the politics portrait portrays is evil Their documents documented no love for the people, Momma, do you remember that sweet definition of democracy Now, it's chronicle has become chronically crazy, But, why can't they for once care about us? Why do we have to feed on the leftover of their horse? Or, are we really borne to suffer?

When will you be corruption free? Oh, my great nation, When will you hold degree? On these your abandoned mission. “Arise O'compatriot!" The way you called, Here now I am, with a good thought Why should I meet you curved? Why must you be pierce to pieces? Why must you be mercilessly tortured? When you wear a cloth made of peace Sewed and unified with agriculture. Rise up Nigeria! Take back your glory, You are the giant of Africa Do not end up with a sad story. Pythons you harbor Send them away! They are your devilish neighbour Let them go astray. Fight them with all your might Possess back your possessions, Those denial of one's right Fight them in all ramifications. You are black And back is beauty, The one that shines in dark With the heritage so pretty. Rise up Nigeria! Take back your right, You are the giant of Africa Fly high like a tattered kite! #PsalmsInk #HappyIndependenceDay #RiseUpNigeria © Samuel O. Ogunyinka, (Ps