We want the flower, the tower and the shower
We want the whole world in our power
We want this; we want that
Bu we have neither this nor that
We want to be here, and there
We are neither here nor there;
To win or lose: to be used or to use
Man is man when man knows man
Death will die, and life will live
Ajayi Simon Angel
ToothBrush
I didn’t scoff the grub
For pleasure and sanitary, I scrub:
To doff trite piece of food
Is my calling from the wood?
When man meets assorted meat
I grieve for the chewing treat.
I am man’s aurora friend.
Like the ultimate man, to the very end
I searched for decayed morsel particle;
To restore man’s fresh breath is my hustle
Cast me away and man’s teeth will hide;
His wont glide—that’s my pride;
I’m his quotidian servant-master
Adorned with creamy butter
To evict stinking gums from vocal isle:
Never weary, I renew his oral smile.
Oguntade, Damilola
He Wields the Steel
Our tongues have become suddenly unmoving,
Only our hands seem to be willing
To submit alms that’ll barter our peace.
Is it not true that we gave him steel?
Yes! But to ward-off the unknown for us
And now, we are faced with friendly fire
The report of his “guider steel”
Would anyone not purge the land of him?
“But oh! Who’ll protect us?” the voice I hear.
“Hush!” I have to counter it really quickly
The steel has cost many their fathers,
Has gaoled our protests shut in our stomachs
Has drawn more blood than salvage it,
Becomes suddenly missing when we beg its true use.
He claims that his meagre remuneration
Is what drives him to seek dirty alms.
But I dare say, it is his uncultured mind
His poor grooming that makes him brute
When out of righteous indignation,
He ejects the hot cylinders of his cold steel,
He calls it the antonym of ‘deliberate intake’
And in summary, he rids himself of all his guilt.
And now, he’s on the road again,
In the guise of a “Road Keeper.”
His sole ambition is so nakedly masked.
To make us submit to the sanction of his steel