ELEGANCE OF TRADITION
In regal colors, with culture there I'm at par,
Draped in blue, like a shining star,
A crown of fila upon me, eleke on my neck
Beads as embroidery, victory at my call & beck.
There I sit like a king, calm and bright,
The Yoruba heritage sparkles in my sight
As I sit like a winner that I was born to be,
Taking what's rightfully mine forcefully.
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?13th March 2026.
You were the first
To speak to herbs
And make the ailing cured.
The greatest healer known to all
Like ripples, your fame
Was far spread.
Olubikin! Olubikin!
Heed the elders' call—
Bitter fruits are not sought by bats.
For honey— bees are hunt.
Flamboyant plumage
Will attract hawks.
Success is a curse.
Black is Gold
Makinde Adebayo Adeniyi
Speak
your culture
Wear
your language
Profess
your art
Own
your shadow
Love
the man in the mirror
Don't
change a thing
Black is gold
I am omolúàbí
Omo k'aaro o jire
Footnote:
Omoluabi - responsible person
Omo k'aaro o jire - Yoruba
Riding on the longest road taken
on the filthy path not yet walked
building Mecca without its bricks
The Kaaba stood on lonely strip
who is bold to take from devil?
lying on a dead man’s grave
whispering to his darker self
_wahala don come_
The fear he felt in a stricken view
eroded hope served on platter’s gold
what have we come to do in this world?
is it to lose ones shadow in a violent sin?
or to shout Hail Mary to the high heavens
or to Fellowship with lost sheep
trailing a whistling shepherd
cajoling lost herd into a beast’s lair
call upon the Oracle for a Messiah
cast the divinity beads to the ground
consult _irumole_ for direction
The sky is gravely pregnant
Earth not ready for her birth
Foot Note:
Irumole: gods(from the Yoruba tribe of south western African country of Nigeria)
Wahala Don come: trouble is coming
Igba Irunmole,
These armies in bright blinding splendour,
Arrayed in unfathomable beauties,
Winged being from beyond the galaxies’
Tracking the blues skies unnoticed,
They walk this earth, unseen by mortal eyes,
Igba Irumole,
Sparkling in beauty, I marked their glowing gaze,
In radiance beyond sunlight,
Watching the sons of men day and night,
Though as servants attending,
Yet as warriors in readiness,
They weary themselves unseen by mortals,
Igba Irunmole
They cover the winds in clouds,
Sprinting through sunlight unhurt,
They mingle in lights with glorious enthusiasm,
Constrained by frequent grandeur
Parading this widening landscape
Igba Irunmole
Is this His beauty? a delightful sunbeam,
Buries my gaze in a blindfold of horror
Well nigh to the end of life,
This frame so frail mingled with pains
A strength not mine imbued within,
There I saw my fickle frame.
footnote . Igba Irunmole translated into English Are myriads of Angels
Igba is number count in Yoruba Language,
Irumole, Iru awon oni Imole, the bearers of Light
The pregnant grey hairs
Will continue to have heirs
His pure heart
Has always paint itself raw in art
Where the blur sun
Shines bright to caress and rerun
Continuously in classical literary world
Remembering how time get tests been twirled
And opens doors for Yoruba-English literature
Model in his own life signature
Happy 86th birthday
Despite having had enough, he gets no holiday
Lest, rest set it wet,
His write remains memorable pet
To sing his name and swing
Its evergreen to the right wing
Time is different in its fulfilment
Yoruba status is unique in its path
Western education isn't enough reason to activate its abandonment
Black soap is good for bath
Worthy is informal education
Which equips the brain scans
I am made unique in its adaptation
Well enriched in the history of my clans
Face of the earth
Mask of heaven
Ritual to death
Done in seven
People are separated from good food,
Babies delayed reunion with mother’s breasts;
The innocent begin to ape the crude,
Killer attacks a fresh retest of previous bomb tests.
Gravediggers maximize their income,
Mortuary services twenty-four hours;
The solders keep working the atrocious sum,
The chief sponsors of graveyard flowers.
War is their job in camouflage
In branches clad and leafy things;
All battles are a business of sabotage:
The flapping of deception like wings
Soldier faces, a garden of tattoos,
The identical twins of Yoruba masquerades;
Their arms asserting what paints do:
Very expedient things during raids
CIA’s involvement is reasonable guessed,
KGB’s quota remains frightening;
Some kind of godforsaken race is stressed,
God forsaken shows of might heightening
Is time we sang it like a song:
Peacemakers have never been wrong;
A war mongers with journalists moving his jaw
Only talk about the breaking of the law.
When tongues arise to condemn racism
None speaks the ordeal of the African albino being
Defined by different views of ethnical beliefs
Discriminated by his brothers for lacking melanin
He is but subjected to verbal condemnation
With chants of mockery upon his head
Discriminated by hypocrites who speak against discrimination
Begging love and acceptance from his fellow man
Have not many mocked his blurred eyesight?
And taunted his nystagmus as he squints in the sun?
Have not many tongues wagged in ignorance?
Spitting forth myths about his existence
Where now is the ignorant Yoruba cook?
That says "Afin ojeyo" with all boldness
Where is that man that showcases emptiness?
To say the sun beclouds an albino's reasoning.
Many myths are said and put to practice
Cursed is the man that sacrifices an albino child
For the zeal of greed has made men fools
To think the albino's blood a charm
Many a person living with albinism
Are daily deprived of the right to noble labour
So if ever tongues shall wag about racism
Fail not to speak of these black beings in white skin.
By: Adams Elizabeth Oyarese
Lizdiamond Poetry World
Yoruba proverb
An old saying
Words of the fathers of fathers
Incentive of the wise spring of ancestral vales
The word is just so original like a laconic phrase
Expressing a basic truth
It find lost words
What an helpful morpheme
An obscure saying, but
So rare in the mouth of the youths
For they should be acquainted to this colloquial, for that
Old is coming for them soon.
Seed of anthropology
Blue-print of ancient antique
Antecedence of brown skin politic
Deity to pre-colonial centralised culture
A republic with institutionally adorned grace for violence
Bodija (they are ever ready)
Awon ti ogun koleko; undefeatable and resilient in battle
Ibadan the light to many
The beauty of brown in head covering
Ibadan the birth-place of ancient civilization
The unbreakable wall of Yoruba defence
The home of warriors,
the seat of bashorun,
even the Lords of Britain knew Ibadan for it art and act of unique diplomacy.
If there ever was a city
If the brown continent was to have a Paris
If love was to have a home
My rest and comfort will be my city; IBADAN.
I love it when you laugh and smile,
At the same time, in my
delight I get sad.
Because I wish I could be the only
man while other men are animals
Àdùk?´, you're so beautiful
with those marks.
Don't be bothered about the city girls,
you got tribal marks not devil marks.
When you laugh I see a rihanna,
When you now decide to keep it
low I see a Michele Obama.
Àdùk?´ Onídìrí, follow me to the city,
I'll open a fashion hub for you
at the riverside of lekki.
?ni bíi ?kàn mi, please help
patch my broken ribs.
Àdùk?´ èmi ?w?n
When we've a daughter, we'll
name her Ar?`wà èkó (Lagos)
With your hands on her hair,
beautifulness will be a course
in the university.
Àdùk?´, dùk?´,
Shake those beads on your waist
for me and let's dance to Àpàlà
like sány?`rì ?`k?là.
Poet
Olajire Damilola Muyideen
(SmilingPen)
Instagram | @smiling_pen
Copyright Owner
Olajire Damilola Muyideen
Mother
*yoruba edition*
'Better lose the saddle than the horse'.
Every mother's voice echo these 7 words
To her child, not just out of love,
Not entirely for love but for joy.
The joy of motherhood.
This life will be hard for you
Omo mi, sugbon yio dara fun e
She assures her young child.
Nitori ti omo ko ba ni ayeye o wa ni owo iya
The pains of motherhood.
A mother is a child's guide through life.
Come, follow me, close your eyes
Think of the rose, and let us go;
She said to her child at birth.
The duty of motherhood.
Iya ni Wura!
A woman who has children, does not die.
She is a mother, in life and beyond.
Her name forever in the hearts of her children
And their children.
Her presence felt through memories when she's gone.
Every child will grow up,
Age and fade off with time.
This life cycle of ours is like a river,
It goes and comes.
But a mother's milk is priceless.
Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare
SPEAREPOETRY™
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
I want it too
Just as much as you do
The ability to live and dream dreams
Of one day rising above this hatred
Whose origin we know nothing about
Same way our fathers knew nothing about
But which they endeavored to pass down
Admonishing us to do same
The reason why when in Kano
I dare not say I am Igbo
Same for which my brother is still single;
Because he dares not bring a Yoruba girl home.
In our own country;
Some places are not save for us
We can't sleep with both eyes closed;
Afraid that death might be closing in on us
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