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Ajayi Kingsley

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ODE TO GRANDPA
EKITI
DANCING GIRL OF BOMBAY
A CRY FOR SUDAN
IN HIS GARDEN
YOU ALONE LOVE ME
EMPTY NIGHT
MY LOVE
FALSE HOPE
DANCING GIRL OF BOMBAY

ODE TO GRANDPA

Grandpa,
Under the tree he sits
Smoking his long pipe
Made of fine clay.

Grandpa,
Carries me on his knees
At the end of a long day.

Grandpa,
Telling me tales
Of hunters long ago.

Grandpa,
Wonderful stories
Set my heart aglow.

Grandpa,
When he was young
Hunting the antelope.

Grandpa,
Urging me on
Filling me with hope.

Grandpa,
Saving the town
From the enemies invasion.

Grandpa,
Wishing I'd do
More than he had done.

Grandpa,
Showing me how
To load his old dane gun.

Grandpa,
Very old now
But oh,
He was such fun.

EKITI

Ekiti, a city built on a hill.
Ekiti is now a dreadful place
Thanks to the politicos.
Dread has plagued
The once beautiful streets of Ekiti.
Men have become victims.
Men have been slaughtered
Thanks to the political ten-ten.
We are the prey chased
By the masquerading beast
Let loose by cruel titans
From the cape of death.
The blood of innocent
Citizens now water the street.
We must rise up and fight.
We must come together
To stop this political bunkum.
At nightfall in Ekiti,
Murderers with daggers
Glued to their hands
Lurk every street,
Nook and cranny
Waiting to strike down
Their hopeless victims.
The city bleeds
The blood of the people
Flowing like thick yellow
Pus pouring out of a terrible sore.
The city is in chaos
Because the scavenging
Dogs are struggling for the powerful seat.
How long will this go on?
How long will innocent
People litter the town square?
How long?

DANCING GIRL OF BOMBAY

Dance, dance, girl of Bombay.
Let us watch you dance.
You are as graceful as a palm tree,
And your breasts are clusters of dates.
Your hair dances like a flock of goat.
Your teeth are white as sheep
Just washed having none missing.
Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon.
Your neck like the Tower of David
With necklace like a thousand shields
Around it.
I am trembling because you
Have made me eager for love
As a chariot driver is for battle.

A CRY FOR SUDAN

Sudan, a country
Whose princes were undefiled
Pure as snow
Vigorous and strong
Glowing with health.
Now they lie unknown
In the streets, their faces
Blackened in death,
Their skin dry as wood
Has shrivelled on their bones.
Those who died in the war
Are better than those who
Died last year, who starved
Slowly to death with no
Food to keep them alive.
The disaster that came to
This people brought horror;
Loving mothers boiled their
Own children for food.
No one anywhere even
In foreign nations
Believed that any invader
Could enter Sudan's gates.
But it happened because
Their prophets sinned
And her priests and imams
Were guilty of killing innocent people.
Her leaders now wander
Through the streets like blind men
So stained with blood
That no one can touch them.
Murderers roam the countryside;
Hunger make them burn with fever.
And their daughters forced to submit
By rebels who themselves are no better
Than slaves.
Nothing is left of what
They were proud of.
The city is now empty
And the wild jackals roam about.
A city that was once
The glory of Africa
Now the ruins of Africa!

In His Garden

He has gone to his garden
To his garden of cocoa trees.
To feed his flock
And gather the harvest.
My lover is mine;
He feeds his flock among the cocoa

You alone my love

My love, you are as beautiful
As Paris
As lovely as the city of Athens
As breakthtaking as these cities
Let the king have ninety queens
Hundred coccubines;young women without number!
I will love only noe, YOU!

Empty Night

As a young man
full of life and vigour,
I am ready to live
But the world won't let me.
I lie awake every night
Sleepless dreamless empty nights.
I ease myself into the streets
The dark unlit streets
Of Lagos.
I lurch arm in arm
With ghosts hoping
For a brighter world.

My Love

I must confess without guilt or shame
I must confess without remorse or excuses
My forever fresh love for the one my heart
Is very much pleased with.
I hope that you, my dearest love
Will accept freely, not with shame
My unwilting love with tenderness.

False Hope

Moreover our eyes failed
Looking in vain for help;
From our towers we watched
For a nation that could not save us.
Men stalked our every step,
So we could not walk in our streets.
Our end was near; our days
were numbered for an end had come

Dancing girl of Bombay

Dance, dance, girl of Bombay.
Let us watch you dance.
You are as graceful as a palmtree,
And your breasts are clusters of dates.
Your hair dances like a flock of goat.
Your teeth are as white as sheep
just washed having none missing.
Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon.
Your neck like the Tower of David
with necklace like a thousand shields around it.
I am trembling because you
have made me eager for love
as a chariot driver is for battle.