Best Ile Poems
You see I've been misunderstood majority of my life
Its as though if living were war
then im the knife
Its not my fault society embraces suicide
Label me an aspiring mathematician
Cuz I have nothing to hide
but a simple substance I provide
for an affordable price
my life is nicked and dimed into a dynasty of ghetto capital
my product derived of natural organic matter
strategically cut and cooked for a simple way to provide
that get away you're after boo
Damage is collateral
See while you chase starts
I chase the dollars that make them
See I defy God and for a few
I can make you invincible
destroying your principles
Cuz ile have you feining for that next high
that next mucus mixture
with the snort of that booger sugar
Excess caked up til inhaled to the brain
that mental bugaloo
Cut into rocks of instacourage
for you weak pawns on a chessboard
checkmated before you had the chance
to advance to enemy territory
You've destroyed yourself
As I enjoy my wealth
Now whos the loser
When you look yourself in the mirror
and realized you've ascertained a habit you cant break
developed a hunger for a superficial utopia you cant make
You are
So as a businessman my product and I are one
but never mingle
So while you dibble and dabble with the snow
I create blizzards
Are you prepared for the cold cold life ahead of you
If im caught is federal
But you're worth the effort
Im just simply the man that makes the offer
And its crazy cuz when the streets were hot
and my product was mixed with soda pop
it was a shoulder shrug
Now I gotta hide my product
discreet with my customers
or metal bracelets will give my wrist
a colder hug
Load the slug
and aim it at your cranium
this is a ride youll die for
Literally speaking
No pun intended
It was more of a visual sentence
Categories:
ile, black african american, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Sail most by north, by west the least,
until the moon sets in the east.
There, in a sea the colour of custard,
ye'll see the Ile de Deux Sans Mustard
where locals speak like buccaneers,
calling you ‘me dirrr' and us ‘me dirrrrs'.
Their pirate accent's quite inexorable
though, than ours, their grammar more is flexible.
They appear to verge on being mammalian,
a little bit like South Australians
(I'd never for the sake of mirth
deride the folks who come from Perth).
Hard left, first manatee you see,
or right, your choice, you're free as me
(it's nix to do with politics,
a pox on all elected plicks).
Sail till the sea turns sweetest violet
and there you'll spot the cutest islet
(had we to rhyme with ‘sweetest red'
it'd be a continent instead).
Here, when poetry is long dismembered,
lies the place of rhyme remembered.
Yes, you have come upon a land
that any poet would think is grand,
where almost everybody aint
any kind of ffffflamin' saint,
but seldom use the worst of curses,
when they converse in freeish verses,
or communicate in playful rhyme,
pretty much whenever they feel like it.
Categories:
ile, cute, fantasy, sea,
Form:
Couplet
J-ust open your eyes
O-ctober sixteenth day;
V-ile clime wreaks havoc,
E-agerly wait, hope and pray.
R-aindrops in torrents
A-re flooding some places;
C-all on the Father's name,
H-e shall shower the graces.
E-ven during the storm, the Lord shows His love;
L-etting you recognize the power from up above.
D-ark cloud in the sky
I-s not yet over and gone;
Z-enith though will be seen,
O-pen your eyes to
N-ew dawn.
Categories:
ile, birthday,
Form:
Acrostic
THE LEGEND OF CELINE, THE WHITE LADY
In French Canada no legend is more tragic than that of Celine,
A beautiful Quebec maiden who, long ago, fell in love with Alain.
He came galloping by on his white horse, a handsome young marine -
They wanted marriage and happily prepared their wedding plan.
They would go to the church in a horse-drawn carriage
They would buy the tidal watermill near their house by the river
Next to Montmorency Falls : a small whitewashed cottage
With garden and daisy flowers; and he would become the miller.
But one day Francois was called to military action in a war terrible-
Every evening, pallid and wan, she searched by the river for her lover in vain.
Her beloved lost his life in battle, and Celine's bridal grief was inconsolable.
“Alain,” she called, convinced in her heart that they would meet again.
After a year Celine could stand her painful loss no more - the searching, the calls.
One ashen moonlit night, in her immaculate pearl-blossom wedding gown
She ran to the river, climbed onto the white horses of the misty Montmorency Falls.
And disappeared into mystery, as the swirling ivory-silver waves swept down.
Calling his name, she slipped into the foamflowers. Her snowy bride’s dress
Was transformed into the falls’ watery cascade, and her long wedding-veil floated away
And became a smaller waterfall nearby, as she swooned in the mist’s caress,
Listening to the soft loving words she heard Alain say.
On moonlit evenings the maiden in white is still seen through the misty cloud
Of shimmering water cascading like daisy petals off the falls in their course:
They say that his name can be heard in the surf and spume of the torrent loud
“Alain, my life-love, wait for me on your white horse. . . . .”
……………………………
NOTE:
This is a well-known legend about the tragic love story of the White Lady of Montmorency
Falls. The waterfalls ( Les Chutes de Montmorency) are located between Quebec City and Ile
d'Orleans, on the St. Lawrence River. These spectacular foamy falls are well worth a
visit. Their height is 50% greater than Niagara; and the nearby ancient city of Quebec is
unique in North America.
Categories:
ile, loss, love, mysterywedding, city,
Form:
Quatrain
Moremi beautiful princess in Ile- Ife.
Moremi beauty is mightier than sword.
Queen of beauty, queen of brawn,queen of brawl.
Irresistable charm that eyes could not ignore.
The rich came for her but Moremi would not.
The royal too but princess would not yield,
Till the day war entered Ile-Ife,
From those that had always conquered them.
Who would stand the war and become a slave?
Only beauty stood the wrath of fierce soldiers,
Arrested their generalissimo with her virginity.
Moremi's beauty is mightier than the brawn.
The warlord saw beauty and threw away his sword:
If this could not be our wife let her be our mistress.
So Moremi became captive in the hands of her prey.
With lust in his heart the warlord granted her a wish:
Make your last speech now there shall be your home.
To the last man standing Moremi spoke in dialect:
Tell our army to attack the brute in a year time.
Moremi was taken away a captive to the brutish land.
There she beacme the warlord's mistress.
Within short time cupid's arrow hit him harder.
In love he revealed their pot of mystic concortion to her:
Behold our ageless might and power,
Whenever we drink from here no one can conquer us.
Then came another day,Ife people attacked the brutish;
The poor love pets were running to their pot,
Pot was broken ,concortion was spilt ,princess was unreached.
But Moremi led them back to Ile-ife with their captives
The captives' heads they made gratitude to their god of war.
Categories:
ile, conflict, love, princess,
Form:
Free verse
OGUNLABI OLAJIDE YUSUF-NativePen 029
EKO @50
TIME OF THOUGHT:LOSS
DATE OF THOUGHT:2015
A damsel was born decades ago
Her name is EKO
Eko Ile Ogbon
She is the most sought after amongst other
The eyes of the Southwest states
The favourite of her mother Country Nigeria
The choice of all
Her northern and eastern arms is shared by the Gateway state (Ogun State)
Adun ba'rin ma to'si
Her western arms is shared with Republic of Benin
Even her Southern arms lies the Atlantic Ocean
Thanks to the ancient settlers of Eko the CENTER OF EXCELLENCE
The Aworis I salute thee "Kitigbe o" ? "O gbe ire"
Beckone on them for varieties of sea fishes; Obokun, Epiya............
Eko Akete
The home to deities of fortune and wealth
Eko Ile Aje
The first ever style can be found within her walls
Won kere si nonba Eko
Eko is ever radiant as the sun and the star
Her fortunes makes her markets rival to none;
Do you need food spices? Danfo knows the route to Oyingbo
Ladipo market is home to all automobile parts you ever think of
Your electronics solution lies in Alaba market
Attires of many colours that makes Eko the home of fashion is there in Balogun market
No wonder the mamooth population of different tribes
Igbo kwenu, your inmense investment cannot be ignored
Yaya dei,
Ara o le bi? Ase jere o
Eko a home to a number of warring ethnic group
To whom much is taken
Much is to be given
Now is the right time to celebrate her (Eko)
Let all her suitor gather round
Her celebration is on
Eko is just 50years, but her riches makes one think she's older than metuselat
If you have not been to Eko,it is certain you dont know Eyo
Her fortune spirit beckones on all
Eko is a friend of all, foe to none
Eko gbole o gbo'le
Eko embodies the economic future of Africa
"Eko o ni baje o" O baje ti"
I won't drop my pen, so I can write many more without saying Kabiosi o Oba Rilwan Akiolu 1. Also more grease to your elbow, your excellency Governor Akinwunmi Ambode.
Gbogbo Eko aku odun aku iyedun ooo
God Bless Lagos State. God bless Nigeria . God bless Africa.
Categories:
ile, africa, anniversary, blessing, class,
Form:
Bio
Who is this Malaysian boy?
His style is dashing,
His eyes are beckoning.
He is the eastern boy from Nnewi,
With the hands that work all day,
Where poverty has no space.
He is the western boy from Ile-Ife,
With the reckoning personality of dignity,
Here,kingship breeds.
He is the northern boy from Daura,
With the ancestral voyage of valour,
A nature of prestige.
You'll find him in his abode,
In the central district of Kuala Lumpur,
He burns candles at both ends,
The Nigerian trait of dutifulness.
Leaving b'ami,ma'mi,Aduke and Akanni back home,
He had tears in his eyes.
Again,his face lit up with the hopes of riches and glamours.
"In the nearest years", he had said,"I'll be rich and famous".
"I'll buy mama,papa,Nwanne and Nna each,a plot of land".
"Magnificent structures will stand on each land".
"Aminatu and Aliyu will go to better schools",
"Ramatallahi will no longer be a milk-maid".
He said these when leaving the shores of his fatherland.
His kidneys are dually intact,
They are very special to him.
He has been taught the essence of hardwork.
He understands the menace of moral decadences,
And the consequences therein.
He's indeed not a drug peddler,
He is not into cybercrime,
He's only gone in search of greener pastures.
Categories:
ile, adventure, boy, hope, inspirational,
Form:
Narrative
D emonic creatures engage to unleash brute force
E scaping to attack is their only real course
V ile their menacing fangs that gnaw to replete
I nflicting extinction with plans to deplete
L eaving devastation - blazing hell’s valid source
B efore hybrid ogres set free beastly wrath
E liminating all life form in their path
A ll seems rather grim, with an outcome quite clear
S atan’s crony dogs release destruction - fear
T ermination completes ultimate bloodbath…
Copyright © 2015 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Ninth Place Winner ~ "In 5 lines or less # 1 (picture this” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: SKAT A
Dec. 27, 2015
10/31/15
Categories:
ile, dark,
Form:
Acrostic
ISEYIN MY TOWN
If you don't know,
'Emi lomo ISEYIN ORO
'Oro omo EBEDI MOKO.
I know my town, I love my town,
I celebrate my town, as great town to everyone, I praise my town, and I cheer my town,
and I try to spread its fame,
ISEYIN!_ISEYIN!!
'Ilu eye kiki aponle,
'ibi ti oju ti buni toju enu lo
'bere ki o towoo.
I trust my town with his pride
I boost my town, and I want to do my part,
To make Iseyin praised, from the depth of every heart,
ILU MOKI
ISEYIN oro-Omo Ebedi moko
'nibi ti ewe nje ariyeke
'ti popo nje belewo
'ti igi nje oluwaran
'ti agbado ojo nje topabodi,
please let me sing this town .
And preach it to my people,
as I think my fellow should do,
Am very proud of you my town,
I want to help you rise,
to be d finest city, as
side of Paradise.
'Eni ban fe aso 'tata
'ti ile Yoruba
'ki o kori si ISEYIN,
'nibi won ti hun gida ninu Aso-Ofi.
All ISEYIN SON(s)
it's good thing to get together,
to make a great big show for our great town.
Good bye to all the knockers,
and welcome to booste crowd,
let get out and hustle,
for a big and better town,
ISEYIN.
ABIODUN OM'BADA OMO ISEYIN ORO
Categories:
ile, africa, allegory, thanksgiving, together,
Form:
Bio
Proud people of the Haitian Ile,
Stand firm with head held high.
Though days may last for a while,
The world has begun to hear your cry.
Le monde ecoute les voix criant;
On voit et meme se sent votre douleur.
Avec vous, on est priant.
Avec vous, aussi on pleure.
Two plus centuries ago,
You proved strength and gained liberty.
For your great past, there’s a greater tomorrow,
In spite of the now, pursue prosperity.
Le monde écoute votre voir d’éspoir;
On voit toute votre courage.
Quelle belle pays et peuple noir –
À vous, on dis “soyez brave, soyez brave!”
Such a calamity to strike Porte-au-Prince;
May you raise capital walls and the hearts therein.
Like those of Katrina, you will be remembered since;
This time, may justice and compassion speedily win.
Haiti, le monde écoute les cries de votre terre;
On voit ques vos avez tellement de besoins.
Il nous semble qu’un des ces est un frère.
Donc, à vous on dit, “On vient!”
(Dedicated to Haiti as a result of the 2010 earthquake.)
Categories:
ile, community, courage, inspiration, international,
Form:
Rhyme
Erstime, ere bards nor Wondering Joyceters
did glybb their gobs with glanjous tongue,
Sir Slip The Most (a Figleafmoistner)
was undangled…and his sling unslung.
‘Twas on the Ile de Deux Sans Mustard,
with her Fowlling Fopplott never wording,
that the hunkerflesh-fed Fowlsome Bustard,
marked best by dark, was ever curdling.
Sir Slip, slop-upped and grammar-morphing,
from moltensteam one dawnless dread,
swear-foring most and all ef-alling,
did clopp young Fopplott's furgeld head.
The Bustard drubbed Slip: 'Dumcummayler!
To flump the sweet lad's yearnsomeness!
Bludaddled knight! Brain-drained wassailler!'
(Sweet Fopplott mock-loomed nasalfless)
"Clogsfyberbucks!" Slip rudblud obscented,
'That nert, that frot, that wibeljankie,
swombodled, gobbed, or sexcremented
God don't know notwot, in me hankie.'
The discompuncted Bustard illglimned.
Then, ventforthing with a scroatful shout,
she snouted, all redblynd and goredimned,
to clip Sir Slip a gobfilt clowt.
Bowelwildered, and fear-smeared arear,
and awefulled of trans-plonker stretch,
Slip, leaping to escape his nadir,
unware… did bare….. his hunkerflesh….
Hencetime, though bards and Wondering Joyceters
do glybb their gobs with glanjous tongue,
durst ne'er no Sir nor Figleafmoistner,
no furgeld Fowlling to one bung.
Categories:
ile, fantasy,
Form:
Ballad
OGUNLABI OLAJIDE YUSUF-NativePen 029
EKO AKETE @50
TIME OF THOUGHT:LOST
DATE OF THOUGHT:2015
A damsel was born decades ago
Her name is EKO
Eko Ile Ogbon
She is the most sought after amongst other
The eyes of the Southwest states
The favourite of her mother Country Nigeria
The choice of all
Her northern and eastern arms is shared by the Gateway state (Ogun State)
Adun ba'rin ma to'si
Her seat of power breaths at Alausa Ikeja.
Her western arms is shared with Republic of Benin
Even her Southern arms lies the Atlantic Ocean
Thanks to the ancient settlers of Eko the CENTER OF EXCELLENCE
The Aworis I salute thee "Kitigbe o" ? "O gbe ire"
Beckone on them for varieties of sea fishes; Obokun, Epiya............
Eko Akete
The home to deities of fortune and wealth
Eko Ile Aje
The first ever style can be found within her walls
Won kere si nonba Eko
Eko is ever radiant as the sun and the star
Her fortunes makes her markets rival to none;
Do you need food spices? Danfo knows the route to Oyingbo market
Ladipo market is home to all automobile parts you ever think of
Your electronics solution lies in Alaba market
Attires of many colours that makes Eko the home of fashion is there in Idumota/Balogun market
No wonder the mamooth population of different tribes
Igbo kwenu, your inmense investment cannot be ignored
Yaya dei,
Ara o le bi? Ase jere o
Eko a home to a number of warring ethnic groups
To whom much is taken
Much is to be given
"Itesiwaju Eko" "O jewa l'ogun"
Now is the right time to celebrate her (Eko)
Let all her suitors gather round
Her celebration is on
Eko is just 50years, but her riches makes one think she's older than methusela
If you have not been to Eko,it is certain you dont know Eyo
Her fortune spirit beckones on all
Eko is a friend of all, foe to none
Eko gbole o gbo'le
Eko embodies the economic future of Africa
"Eko o ni baje o" O baje ti"
I won't drop my pen, so I can write many more without saying Kabiosi o to Oba Rilwan Akiolu 1. Also I say more grease to your elbow, your excellency Governor Akinwunmi Ambode.
Gbogbo Eko aku odun aku iyedun ooo.
Categories:
ile, africa, age, blessing, celebration,
Form:
Bio
FREEZE - FRAME OF QUEBEC CITY
Time-capsule towers over St. Lawrence:
Heights of Abraham look imperiously down
On the Ile d’Orleans spread over the river,
Chateau Frontenac’s fairytale frivolous turrets,
Le Parlement’s serious severity,
Antique town with narrow cobbled streets,
Overhanging shoulders of timbered gables.
Clipclop of caleche leaps back centuries,
Cobblestones echo concertina and fiddle music
About log-driving men with peavey poles.
L’ete indien - a world of rust and copper leaf,
Montmorency Falls and the legend,
All frozen in time and in winter’s snowy grip.
Categories:
ile, urban
Form:
Imagism
S-aviour is what you are to me,
you rescued me from a life of immorality.
A-shamed ashamed of how I use to be,
thank you Lord, you set me free!
V-ile and Wicked was my name,
you died on the cross and bore my shame.
I-magine how I would have been,
if Jesus had not bore my sin.
O-rder would not have been restored,
because such a price I could not afford.
U-nited with Christ is my desire to stay,
now, forever and always.
R-edeemer and King my God you are,
my all in all, my life, my Star!!
January 14, 2016
Inspired by:
Psalm 144 verses 3 & 4.
Categories:
ile, bible, christian, god, gospel,
Form:
Acrostic
The heaves and the roars and the sighs
Are less frightening to passer-bys
Than the terrible moans
Of the hollowed out stones
Which bring forth the dead sailors’ cries.
The sky in the west has gone red,
Dyeing rocks on whom many have bled
Men defended their homes
Legends filled foreign tomes:
Devil’s ile is what far scholars said
Thinking savages roamed ‘round uncouth
They could not have imagined the truth
That a goddess lived there
With star light for her hair
Who gave to all many life times of youth
These people they could not feel fear
For as long as their goddess was near
Despite the fall of leaves
They had endless reprives
A silver strand and at death they could leer
But when one girl fell deeply in love
With one resembling a sweet mourning dove
When she asked for a strand
From her tribe she was banned
Left to die with her husband alone
First of her people to grow wise with age
She tried to make others give up their rage
But with her own son she failed
And to his people he sailed
He hanged the goddess by her hair on her stage
*I know that this is a bit creepy and gross. I don't know why I wrote it.*
Categories:
ile, death, fantasy, satire, people,
Form:
Limerick