The world is many things ( A poem by Fortune Omosola )
The world is many things Child, what have you seen, nothing? thinly clad bird dancing in moving pixels money stressing in waste as unauthenticated waist move to grim music sons of perdition paying homage to the devil, have you seen nothing? The…
Nigeria can transform its learning horizon through her indigenous languages
Nigeria has oodles of indigenous languages that are rich and too powerful to be ignored. If language is the bedrock of local and national identity, then no language should superintendent over another. As we all know, language is not just a means of…
Silver lining ( A collection of poems by Gbenga Omosola
Silver lining is a collection of poems by Olugbenga Omosola, a writer and poet with an open mind to happenings around his environment, family and work. He uses his pen to walk us through it. Enjoy. Overzealous Frontman Our frontmen, oh how they…
The whale of wheat ( Poem )
A whale of wheat is poem that explore themes of identity, self-reflection, and transformation. My pictures are penciled in a frown or smile, an art in deep water, On dirty canvas, my veins change colour, I’m the general without a uniform. With a…
God ( Poem )
God, Who holds GOD to account, or would bring HIM into it? WHO? He who would use eternity to RESHAPE his creation when HE chooses, The ONE whose desires transcend THINGS, and HIS words dwell in the pit of MYSTERIES, that man in an INFINITE wisdom, bear…
Fragments of Gaza
Fragments of Gaza A dog’s body is clogged in a film of debris, it’s shadow iced by a hue of blood, thick black smoke from a fresh pile of concrete rubble kiss the chocolate sky, Welcome to the strip. Shell-shocked human shields with dead pan…
Orunmila sits still on Olota hills
Orunmila, the Yorubas ancient deity, sit still within the flushing greenery of the crusty hills of Olota in Ado-Ekiti – a green bottle with most of the content gone, fading before him. I first saw the picture when the handsome Jamaica, son…
Truth
The truth has one page, but a lie is spread into many chapters, the recurring theme is patience, it’s reward hides in a system. Don’t filch a finger with a sinister eye, you know this too, that seasons plunder a man in autumn. –…
Poem: My ancestors
Poem: Ancestors of the ancient clan, I beckon, raise your heads, far and fair from the endless mantle, rise to the kneading of the talking drums, baring proverbs from a new world, that – this skies are falling into pieces. Grab your…
THE LINK ROAD ( POETRY )
There is no faith on the link road, it is too silent, deserted, frail, only birds fly there, in the dead of the night, the spirits of crickets commune, till the day breaks at the destination. – F.Omosola This poem…