Tag: girl

Baby Girl For Life

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Baby Girl for Life
Old age is setting in.
My system does not digest milk anymore.
I take pain relievers every morning
For sleeping late and waking early

Asides animated video
I don’t know what else
People do on snapchat.
I downloaded tictok for that
‘Put your head on my shoulders’
But I could not figure it out

Oluwa!
I am becoming my mother.
O ma shey o!
My ‘baby girl for life’ mantra
Has become a caricature.

But I am enjoying old age
I lovvvvvvvvveeee it.
The most beautiful thing about
It is freedom to be.
Learn. Grow. Make mistakes.
And if you are lucky,
All at your own pace

You would think I am 50. Lol
I am looking forward to 30.
I will throw the loudest party.
Haha. You know I am lying.
I will probably coil up in my bed,
Having lazy conversations with God.
Oh. I am the lazy one.

That is, if I get to 30 of course.
My high school group posted
Many pictures of the dead among us.
Left me wondering who the next is.
Life is fleeting.

But that’s fine.
I am knocking out checklists.
When it’s my time
I will go like a baby girl.
Because what?????
I am a baby girl for life.

ChyD
©2021

Wheat

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I have never seen Everson but my brother he is
And he’ll never sin on my scene, never bother with it
Young Charles and the step-fam would be arguing things
But they tried to eat and clean mouth so forked in our things
UC typing with no network
Cast your words and let’s work
Electrifying verses versus, we wrote culture shock
That reminds of Godswill on the LinkedIn thought
When I write nowadays
I’m Kendrick in my brain
When I’m emotional, I’m Drake
I give UC catarrh like Wayne
I should learn to edit
Ed, Edd and Edit
Today I was writing slower, with no beat when I read it
And yet I found no timing like I used to back ’13
I feel the neck of Nonso pendulum-ing in reprimand
I read my counterparts and there’s no doubting, I understand.
No buts about this, discipline, I need to robot; Oh God, the speed is messing with the taste of the yogurt.
Uh
I’ve known the height and yet the might was not the way I reached it
No poltergeist, I’m hunting light and all the ways to reach it
Beyond delight, in day or night, I sought to not be rigid
To please the wise and, like a kite, be gliding high in reason
Back
To
Work
One week of intermittent prayer
Constant in the fact that you will see me there
No foul play, I am not a Layer
The season is for harvest so I’m switching gear
Trousers and Head gears
These were the past cares
And don’t get me started on a vaccines being scares
Plans of the antichrist, I’m laughing past tears
I thought of saying it earlier on my family group
But they’ll call me disrespectful and I’m getting in soup
As long as souls are told the gospel, I am cool with the loop
Light is always gonna win, when it’s dark imma stoop
Make dem no go use me shine, “Sorry” no be control-z
I’ll be studying all that time, Me and Mine be on the beat.
We’ll be praying and researching, from the back to front row seats
Then I’m studio-ing it all, yeah it’s QuChi and the Wheat!!!

Niel
©2021

Dear Black Child

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Dear black child, You will heal
Heal from the scars buried 6 feet
Deep within the pores of your skin
Wounds that festered on your emotions
And shattered your heart into a million pieces
Now your heart is nothing but a broken glass
Learning how to reflect your wholeness
The image of a girl that once loved

Centuries from now,
When the dust is shaped from your bones,
History will tell a tale of courage,
Of a woman who pulled her weight,
Against the odds clawed around her neck,
How from ashes and burning embers
Built an Empire with and sweat,

Your bones will be a blueprint,
A speck of dust igniting generations,
A gene of women who don’t bend to raging winds,
History will tell a tale of a Woman,
A Warrior emerging from within you,
How you faced your fears,
And became a woman emerging,
An open letter when they unearth you,

A testament of weathering storms,
Taking down giants with your love,
You are a promise of resurrection,
Reminding them that red sea parted in your views,
And when you whispered your last breath,
The night spoke the language of love,
Living blueprints in our heart,

Dear Black child,
You are a miracle folded in the form of a woman,
A woman becoming, learning the intricate language of love,
You were born for this sort of heavy lifting,
You were born a part saint, a part warrior,
And you have emerged the Genesis
Of a new breed of women,
A linkage of goddesses

Dear black child,
You are a goddess,
An ancient scripture,
A prophecy lies in your heartbeat,
This revelation is nestled in your palms;
Truly, greatness lies in your loins!
Live it! Breathe it!


Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2021.

Heal

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I see you, you know?
The smile carved out of thorns,
Thorns gradually being removed from your heart;
You gave it out, and it was returned broken,
Yet, you find a place in your heart,
A broken piece, to reflect happiness to the people around,

I see you, you know?
The warmth and closure,
Sprouting from the seed of forgiveness,
It’s never easy to walk in these shoes;
He enveloped kisses, you thought it was love but it was bought with 30 pieces of silver,
Little did he know he was selling you,
To the place of destiny,
Always let your warmth radiate love; it’s the sun’s energy

I see you, you know,
Learning how to walk again,
How to break down your doors,
The very ones you built when he broke you;
A thousand pieces of a being,
Learning how to see trust in actions,
Every tongue that comes bearing gifts of love;
You view from a defective view,
Your heart has been taught to see lies in all words,
Let love in, yes broken, but you still paint beautiful pictures…

That’s how I see you, you know,
An artist carving smiles, on people’s faces,
You are well skilled in teaching rhythms,
when you walk by, our heads moves to the rhythm of your body,
Your tenacity can only compare with the greats,
No doubt you are great!
And mostly, I love your conversation with God,
I imagine the words you will speak to Him about your man!

Dear baby girl,
Learn to let God lead you to the person you will love,
You are just broken,
Remember, broken crayons still paint beautifully,
You are beautiful, smart, sexy and godly,
You are every man’s dream!
Give love a chance, only then can you heal completely

– Adeleye Olaoye
(c) 2021

Rape

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I didn’t think he would
No!
He was my brother
I didn’t think he would leave me with this wound
He was my blood

I should have known
From the way he looked at me
From the way he often stared at me
I should have gotten the message
The moment he closed the door to the passage

Don’t ask me what I was doing in his room
Dad sent me there
He sent me to serve him
Dad didn’t know his son was a forceful defiling monster

His sick son,
A strong brutal rapist

Would I recover?
The evil touch,
The pains,all to his gain
Was there any gain???

My Body…
Broken beyond repairs
My mind…
Did he rape my mind too?
Why can’t I forget?

The shots of whiskey hasn’t been helping
The cigarettes only makes me remember
Remember how I struggled
How I begged
I can’t forget how he pushed me out of his room
To an untimely doom

Teach your sons to flee!
Tell them the urge won’t kill
Teach them to respect a woman
Tell them No means No
Make them aware of consent

Teach your daughters to speak out
Let them confide in you
Don’t let them walk through life like this worthless broken girl before you.

– Jemima Joseph
(c) 2021

EVEN IF FOR A SMILE

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As I gaze the blue sky with my tired eyes
Swimming in the ocean of my mind
Word draining and words building
My tired soul in complete disarray

Will I rise again like these ocean waves?
Renewed with strength that won’t cave in
But this weary soul needs some hope
My tired mind, helpless as all look lost

Would you like some pie sir, a whisper?
My eyes alight with a new glow at the smile
A petite brown haired girl with green eyes
With the brightest smile I ever saw

Yes please, little smiling one I croaked
I stretched forth my tired hands
My grieving soul a teary-eyed. My wife and
My little girl will not return, alas

Oh what a pain untold to lose your world
But this smiling one renewed my hope
Not to end it on this deep blue sea
But to start all over again even if for a smile

Galatians 6:10 “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
©2021

Who Am I?

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I have sought a definition
A sentence that could give me full expression of who I actually am

Am I a girl?
Is my life best expressed in the gender
In the XX of my genotype
Or in the comely form of my phenotype?

Am I a youth?
The leader of tomorrow; the pillar of today,
Am I one of the millions of jolly fresh faced persons
Brewing with passion but lacking in knowledge,
Just hustling to make it?

Am I a Nigerian?
Do I get my identity from my southern roots
Trying to fit into the mold of societal stereotypes?

Am I a graduate?
Is that laminated certificate in my box my identity card
Such that I am quick to shove my titles in peoples faces
Using that as a basis for unhealthy comparison…
But deep down I know
I am not my profession and my profession is not me
So help me answer this question who am I?

Guys, it took a long time to realize who I was
To understand that I couldn’t find myself by looking inward
but looking outward
that I would only see my true reflection
when I look in His mirror
that my true life is wrapped in his death and glorious ascension
that my life is not about the external but the eternal

but that my real identity is in JESUS
not in gender or status or nationality or age or education or skill
so who am I?
I am a child of God, a joint heir with Christ
I am a spiritual, supernatural, extraordinary human being
Trust me,
I am not just a girl, I am not just a youth,
I am not just a Nigerian, I am not just a graduate, I am not just a poet…
I AM A CHILD OF GOD!

Damaris
© 2020

The Most beautiful Girl- Part 2

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Years pass and she remains a sister to me
A perfect relationship divorce can’t sever
There is no ‘more‘ to want
Her love is complete and I am satisfied
Until the 99th night she passed at my house
She wakes at midnight to find my fingers on her breast
With a push from her I land on the floor
On getting up I see the hurt and unbelief in her eyes as tears roll down her cheeks
There is no explanation to her or myself of my actions
No words are exchanged
The wait for dawn is like waiting for Jesus’ second coming
I curl on the floor while she clutches herself tightly on the bed with occasional sniffs
I die a thousand death in a thousand ways, all by suicide
She leaves as morning comes
Apologies are meant for explainable crimes, not inconceivable ones
This crime should not be apologized for nor forgiven
A lot of water pass under the bridge and today I cry;
I cry because she visits last week and wraps me in a hug
We go for walks and she leans on me like old times
Like I didn’t abuse her
She has a golden heart but the most I expect are patches;
A hand sewn cloth thread with caution
She disappoints me with total abandonment and oblivion of the past
I cry for I don’t deserve her yet I have her
Her name is Grace

ChyD
© 2019