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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
Ten Lepers sought the Lord
carrying their badges with a Plea
unclean unclean was the cry
Mercy alone was their Plea
The King of mercy heard their cries
by his word He healed them all
One amazed returned with praise
A new disciple of grace
Four Lepers at the Syrian gate
though hungry yet harmless
The King of mercy prepared a table,
Bade them eat from the banquet divine
Providence had them in mind
Though the host of Syrian heard the noise of Chariot
Paving way for more Lepers
Zacchaeus fashioned by nature saw a crowd
He was the chief among publican
On that day, the master was passing bye,
His vantage view was a sycomore tree
He wanted to be loved though a sinner,
Hasten and come down Say the Mercy King
I must abide in thine House
He found grace on that day
And He must need go through Samaria,
A prostitute came to the well
abandoned and used by five men,
The Jews had no dealing with the Samaritan was her only theology,
Mercy King had the better gift,
suspend even His meal to save a soul
when her case came to light,
she became an evangelist.
Come see a man who told me all that i ever did
The city saw the King
He was Born blind, never once did he see the Light
Families afraid to own him as beggarly he sought for ease,
Even the Priest love to see him so
But the King of mercy spotted him from Heaven
He was marked for appointment
And when his case was called
One thing I know He said,
“Once I was blind but now i see”
Thirty eight Years, he was bedridden
in competition with diseased folks like himself,
waiting for certain season in vain,
Angels could not give a helping hand,
the fastest feet must take their portion at the pool
The King of mercy came for him
This time the pool was no longer needed
A faith ascent took him home
At the gate they called beautiful,
No one hoped to meet a lame beggar there,
But Life happens to us all, as for him this case was bad
for forty years he roamed in obscure darkness
The helpers with feets feeds from him,
they lend him legs to seat and beg
with his state they have a trade
But the King of mercy on way to the Temple
and would not leave him without help
Rising up in His name, he went with those who had feet
He too was a Commander, but a son's sickness exposed his weakness
A father's love compelled him to this Journey
from capernaum to Galilee several distance with faith
The King of Mercy saw his son and saw him coming too
Just a word of Authority from the Master, he know about Power.
“Go thy son liveth” He needs not another
“He sent his word and He healed them
and delivered them from their destruction”
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2021
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
And he said unto them, If ye had not plowed with my heifer, ye had not found out my riddle.Judges 14:18b
They plowed with the heifer,
A stranger of a day,
assigned from the pit,
to bring a Samson down.
She feigned false affiance,
with a mission so deliberate,
trans-versing vast territories,
to cage a man by Lust.
the disguise of a demon,
derailed a man on mission,
suspending the vision.
The bargain was too costly,
her comrade the philistines,
pretentious while purloining,
hides in ambuscades,
dictating schemes to kill.
The captives now entrapped,
They kept their walled territories,
inflamed the loose Cyprian,
for fleshy lust and greed.
Are you the man on a mission?
Oh! be not complacent.
The flappers surrounds you still.
Keep this emblem on your chest,
Delilah is not a friend.
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2022
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
The lure of untainted flower,
Its sweet perfume encased in a whorl.
Alas! That which I await is scarce.
This memory will be banished tomorrow.
Tomorrow ,
I must satisfy her.
My labour waits for her belly:
The weary days
The sun
The rains of my struggles
Bear fruit tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
She said, “I will come tomorrow”
Her many delays must end tomorrow
‘cos her quest for vanities are fully spent.
Our wedding shall be tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
Her lust shall be feted
Her feathers of courtship plucked!
The downs, I know, shall be not be rubied
But tomorrow we shall deceitfully walk to the altar.
Tomorrow.
I bid you, wait till tomorrow.
She goes home now to break her bond
With him that was in her dreams only yesterday.
I, shall wait till tomorrow
To make her drink from her fountain of lust.
Her secret desire of a ride to a far country
On her lover’s back, a wish not penny can grant.
Tomorrow.
I must nurture the wounds and scars of another
And regret I never made the first cut.
Yet, she must do it again as before.
But we shall start tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
She shall dance like a maiden untouched;
All her lovers in the pew,
Mocking my folly with unspoken memories of their voyages
And I, a victim of blemished womanhood,
Ready to fool the world in “unholy matrimony.”
Tomorrow,
When she parades foolishness for fashion
Then, call her not my wife.
When she fights on the street in rage and fury
Oh, call her not my wife.
When she slips into darkness to drink from the cup of a rival
Please, call her not my wife.
When the stench of her reputation chokes the neighborhood
Then, remember her not as my wife.
When she regales her mates with tall tales to my hurt
Please, call her not my wife,
When she wraps herself in fineries yet uglier than a mummy
Please, call her not my wife,
When godliness is exited and the fear of God abolished
Please, call her not my wife
Think no shame on me
Then, when she becomes a Matron over innocent children.
But, I must marry
Tomorrow
Be it for a day before I die.
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2011
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty
EBELE
Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope,
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion)
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel,
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows)
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015)
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2019
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
Sojourner to far-flung climes;
When you return,
Will you remember the evening songs
Chorused by chirping under the baobab tree?
Will you still remember the fame of the great hunter
Whose courage put the forest sprite to flight?
Earning him the most beautiful virgin in the land
When you return,
Will you remember the fable of the wraith
That forced our forefathers away from the farm at dusk?
Will you still dip your hands in “Aro” to make “Adire” for our dear mother?
Will you?
The market still a beehive of activities
Every market day is as rustic as you left it,
Our women the same, untainted by the new ways
Our men have not also faired any better,
Still suspicious of the innovations of the town people
Our children are not ashamed of showing off their beauty for the world to see,
The harrowing cries of our virgins still pierce the night,
As they fall under the mutilators knives
Will you still remember how to savor “Iyan”
Pounded with the sweats of the maidens and
Molded with “Egusi” from earthenware?
When you return,
Will you not now be repulsed with “Ila”
That soup which you handled with such mastery with “Amala”
The leaves from the forest still keep us strong and virile,
Their medicines have not offered any hope to all our ailments,
When you return,
Teach us not new things about our Land
O sojourner,
When you return from the distant land of subjugation
That dungeon that robbed us of our cultures and creeds
– Aro:- A local dye
– Adere:- A fabric made with “Aro” it is popular among Yoruba people of western Nigeria,
– Iyan :- A paste for food made from Yam
– Egusi :-A soup made from the melon seed
– Ila :-A gelatinous soup made from Okra
– Amala :-A paste for food made from Yam flower
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2020
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
The sprout of momentary illusion,
the voyage of a derelict dream in place of a lie,
the lure of April, the deceit of May concertized in December,
in wintry snow, mocked,
miscarriages of a well worn organ,
the grin of February,
suspended in September,
the burden of unconquered Lust,
the armies of censorial secret "bedders",
begging for the abandoned rottenness on my path,
obsequious frenzy of the hasty oath at Ikoyi,
the stealthily lure of a defiled bed before the oath,
the desperation of "a wanna be" by crook,
hurried by the mascara coated looks of a postponed "dowried hariotery,"
A bedfellow from the red zone,
an unrepentant Gomer,
The armies of bias exes overwhelmed the gaze with suspicions,
compelling through diurnal and surreptitious escapades in dark corners,
allured by unfinished lust,
to the city centre for a quickie,
And myriads of men hides in ambuscade save one,
with threats of kill for suspending their “off home” secret lush
The public mistress unfit for their homes, Yet suited for their Lust by turns
she warmed our beds they say'
purloined for your Fall of a few days,
The bawd roamed unrestrained,
'Don't talk to me' she says.
Unbridled concupiscence her forte,
forty plus years in the trade,
well versed in the art
The sneaky nights,
the secret calls,
the Stygian services,
and countless gift of libidinous frivolities.
Yet their victim must remain mute,
as truly the drama unfolded ,
all appeal rebuffed by arrogance,
as they taunt with permissive perverse Laws
convinced on the first day.
Converse for four weeks,
conscripted in one week
“conbedded” on arrival in same day,
Correction of a fool,
concluded at the Court.
Then in retrospect, Delilah revived.
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2020
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
Despised, Reviled, Rejected.
Object of cruel mockery.
Before I was conceived, I heard of you,
Dumps for homeless migrants,
Debased and inferior.
Was beauty ever part of you?
This throng, that daily treads your well worn streets,
Whither? your brackish waters,
Home to unseen enemies, children splash uncaring,
Your market is a meeting place, young and old,
Rich and poor, your wares to behold
Ajegunle, the harsh teacher, Survival skills your forte,
Sharpening and shaping lives by your creeds
Ajegunle,
The enemy of state love, a point to prove,
Creativity crams herself into your nooks and crannies,
The envy of rich Ikoyi.
Ajegunle,
You must visit with vigilance, day or night,
Hunters abound, roving eyes,
Seeking purse to prey upon.
Their kills dissected in the crevices of Ajegunle
Where the oppressed oppress another
Atavism is a regular guest at Ajegunle
Where order is almost a crime,
Disorder the norm,
Ajegunle,
Kingdom of numerous kings, a reflection of ourselves
Poverty amidst riches, want amidst plenty,
Ajegunle,
Despised
Reviled
Rejected
Ajegunle is a Popular slum in Lagos Nigeria.
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2020
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
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
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2023
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
Our Shame,
"PRESIDENT" & "LEADERS"
Full grown men,
old,
devoid of vision,
Lacking in wisdom,
wicked weaklings
protected by paltry paid gun men
great grandfathers,
unwilling to train Younger Leaders.
Untrained themselves in morals & reputation,
Liars,
Tired & fickle in frame,
feeble. opaque, lacking imagination,
These exalted clowns,
drawn from rickety defeated military,
All but a weak one from the creek.
Gangsters,
Elevated as Presidents,
or Governors and Leaders,
We are Trapped,
fooled by cynosure of degenerate,
immoral men, destinies robbers,
watching the drowning of a once rich Giant.
confined felon,
demented through age
rogues as Presidents, Senators, Governors,
Protected by corrupt Police
and a demystified compromised Army,
Oppressive DSS, Abusive servants of the masses,
robbing the future of unborn kids,
denying all in the midst of Plenty,
shaming us all.
We have no Leaders Yet.
None since 1960.
Profligate band of men,
overtaken by fraud & moral turpitude,
A merry-go-round by failures,
sixty Plus years after Muzungu,
Illiterates still in charge of our destinies,
Despised in Ghana
scorned in Zambia
Overtaken by Ethiopians
locked out by Botswana
Denied by Rwanda
disgraced in Libya
Mocked in South Africa
Bared in sane countries
where corruption is an indelible blot,
incarcerating the guilty away from sane men.
These crooked Old recycled Failures,
Destroyed, ruined and damaged destroying still.
unwilling to retire in their dishonour,
Killing, abusing and incarcerating Young men who dares tyranny.
A former Giant,
Now a Crawling Giant of Africa,
Beggarly borrowing amidst plenty.
Over two hundred million divided mass,
waiting for “godot” .
procrastinating liberty for fear and docility
A country of Countries Ruined by Military men
masquerading as democrats through tyranny
A Cancer in Africa.
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2021
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Macaulay Oluseyi Poem
OSAMA
Obdurate Sadistic abductor as Machiavellian now abashed
Senseless Saboteur with Sabre sword,
Ablutions of wickedness as apology from vagrant
Mercy and peace mixed fleetingly against unprovoked America and the innocents
Abomination of true God explained as religion, hatred, wickedness, murders, and Jihad
Bin
Bigots brewing bestial behaviors before innocent kids,
Inoculated ideas of incorrigible iconoclast and unlettered extremist
Namby-pamby in acts of cruelty, yet, not man enough to face the consequence
Laden
Laden, lackluster, laggard, languid, despising better option
Abnormal spiritual schizophrenia and hallucination
Doctrinal heresies and contradictions shaming Islamic scholars
Exposing the fallibility of the questionable renown “Sacred book of blood and wars”
Now convince us again, that you bring Peace, Love or seek the Prince of Peace
Copyright © Oluseyi Akinbami | Year Posted 2011
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