WILL YOU DANCE?

Look at them dance

 They dance to the throb of the drums 

The drums I beat for you,

 They do not dance like you would

 They cannot cause the rhythm is yours and not theirs. 

But they cannot refrain from dancing, 

Why do you? 

 Dance for me, 

Let me see your body finish for me What my fingers started for you Hold your dashiki by the fringe, 

Throw back your shoulders, and twirl.

 Will you not dance? 

I beat the samba,

 I made the Bata as potent as conk ‘Oguro’. 

The tinkle of the Saworo surely would incite you? 

But you do not dance 

 Do I not beat these drums well? 

Why then do they dance, if my song be not sweet? 

I started at dawn, 

Drummed through high Noon 

Evening has come, 

You did not dance 

 I beat Rumba, 

I beat calypso 

Drummed salsa, 

Juju also 

You have not danced 

 Why do you let others danced to your song? 

See! They are about to drink your cup 

They intend to take your place 

Only the evening light keeps them at bay 

 What will happen when night comes? 

When mothers call the children to bed? 

When the glowing embers 

used in making dinner Have turned into cold ash? 

What will happen when the ‘Gangans’ leather tears?

 My shoulders ache 

My fingers are bleeding 

My bottom is sore 

I am worn and weary 

Time is running out 

The rhythm is turning slow 

 Will you take this chance? 

Will you dance?

Will You Dance?

Look at them dance

They dance to the throb of the drums

The drums I beat for you,

They do not dance like you would

They cannot cause the rhythm is yours and not theirs.

But they cannot refrain from dancing,

Why do you?

Dance for me,

Let me see your body finish for me

What my fingers started for you

 Hold your dashiki by the fringe,

Throw back your shoulders, and twirl.

Will you not dance?

I beat the samba,

I made the Bata as potent as conk ‘Oguro’.

The tinkle of the Saworo surely would incite you?

But you do not dance

Do I not beat these drums well?

Why then do they dance, if my song be not sweet?

I started at dawn,

Drummed through high moon

Evening has come,

You did not dance, I beat Rumba,

I beat calypso

Drummed salsa,

Juju also

You have not danced

Why do you let others danced to your song?

See! They are about to drink your cup

They intend to take your place

Only the evening light keeps them at bay

What will happen when night comes?

When mothers call the children to bed?

When the glowing embers used in making dinner

Have turned into cold ash?

What will happen when the ‘Gangans’ leather tears?

My shoulders ache

My fingers are bleeding

My bottom is sore

I am worn and weary

Time is running out

The rhythm is turning slow

Will you take this chance?

Will you dance?

Lazy Muse

Somebody should please wake my Muse up already...

Polo Suya

Hi, I'm being a bit lazy about moving my poems from Facebook over to this nook. Take a look at my Notes on Facebook and let me know if you think I should bring them over to this Grey zone...

It spread like wildfire 

Who’s to say it wasn't in truth, wildfire?

 Went from the north of my core due south

 in one solid swipe 

Left me dazed it did 

Weakened me, 

turned me to a writhing mass of nerves 

The smile of my face turned foolish 

The whisper in the breeze 

 Was of a gossip uttered only in dark, secret places 

I listened to every story

 told by each bite sized piece 

They had raunchy tales to tell 

We became one 
A testimony to a ripe tradition

Suddenly part of a rhythm that started long ago 

My senses opened up 

to an excursion into deep, spicy places 

A new kind of sating 

 A different name for “knowing”

 Kai, Mallam, Two more shaki and beef, 

put plenty pepper…

Google Blogger App yaaaaay!

Hi, yeah, I know I' been away since forever. :-)  Don't blame me, blame my muse and that type of thing. Lol.

So I've just gotten a Blogger App on my device of world surfing aka Tablet. (Funny how if someone wakes up from a century long nap right now, they wouldn't recognize any of the terms we use these days. Tablets used to be legal drugs...)

Anyway, I now have a Blogger App thanks to the nerds at Google, so lets see if the development tickles my muse into a burst of writing. I swear any writing will do at this point, even stupid, pointless writing....

UNICEF - Life skills - Which skills are life skills?

UNICEF - Life skills - Which skills are life skills?


Food for plenty thought...

Being Itunu

I don’t like mama anymore. Did she have to beat me because of that small meat?
Shebi I din’t even take the big one like the kind that she always gives to baba.

Yee… I will sleep on my stomach at night. This pain is too much.

It is like the pain of that time when uncle Uche touched me. When I could
only sit with one bum-bum.

He touched me in plenty places and I did not like it. He said he wanted to
see if there was a baby inside my stomach before he will give me the ice cream.
He made my wee-wee pain me. I could not even sit down well for plenty days…

Should I tell mama? No! Uncle uche said my stomach will get very big like mama’s own if I tell anybody.

I don’t want that. Bunmi will not let me play with her if I have a big stomach and my blue dress will not even size me again.

‘Itunu, what are you doing there? Can’t you hear mama calling you? You want her to beat you again abi? That koboko is still hungry o!’

Segun shouts too much self. He opens his big mouth like a hungry goat and sometimes I can even see leftover akara around his teeth when he is yelling at me.

Is it because he is three years older than I am that he thinks he can shout at me? I too will be eight years old one day…