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Poetry

Thoughtful Tuesday: In The End

To which we say; we’ll be fine.

We will be, won’t we?

While we pick up the dust and ashes of failed dreams,

Romance and true love we killed on a whim,

In our youth, we danced and spun on fate’s wheeling wheels,

With wind in our sails we bent life to our will,

Will we or will we not forever live?

We will be fine; we say,

While forward! We march onto our graves.

We will be fine.


I Am The Doorway

 

Nothing lasts forever

Nobody stays

We just come together

For a while,

And then – go away

 

Is life a game;

We have no choice but play?

Why can’t words communicate,

Things important to say?

 

A hypocrite,

A flawed – no; a failed experiment;

Seeking perfection in others

Getting girls delivered like mail orders

No truth here, madam. Look further

 

Maybe happiness is a dream, a mirage, an illusion;

Maybe it’s meant for those with clear vision,

Or maybe that makes no sense. Maybe it’s just a joining of words;

In-fusion.

 

You don’t understand?

Okay; understand;

I’m romance’s Ozil; everyone else is Ronaldo or Messi,

The king of assists; the best of wingmen,

But when it’s my turn to score, things become messy!

Perhaps I’m meant to sit on the wings, man

 

So I accept. I’ll play Watcher,

Fold my hands, observe, watch her,

No happiness for me in love; no way,

I’ve accepted my fate; I am the doorway

 

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Promise.

 

 

When NEPA strikes and it feels like you’re stuck,

Hot, sticky and network sucks,

Know that –

Know that I love you,

And that’s enough

 

 

When you don’t have data and can’t browse,

When there’s nothing but a frown between your brows,

Be sure –

Be sure I love you,

Erase your doubts

 

 

When your ATM card is just an ornament, you’re broke,

And it’s hard to smile – you’re a quarter past broke

Reach out –

Reach and confirm, I love you,

Read these words I quote

 

 

When the past seems to intrude on the present,

Making lies of all the gifts; the present

Unwrap this –

Unwrap this package; I love you

That should make all the difference

 

 

And when, a few days to; you develop cold feet

I understand; marrying me is a feat,

Be brave –

Be brave; I love you

I’m with you all the way; victory or defeat

 

 

I know you no longer eat for one but two

You don’t have to try to please me too,

Just let me –

Let me do for you; I love you

Put your feet up darling, I’ll feed you

 

And when, you’re old, grey and all wrinkly,

You’ll still never have to ask; ‘hug me’

Baby –

Baby, I love you

Whether young, old or dying

I promise

 

 

Now,

Say you love me too.

 

 

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Omit.

 

 

I’m starting to forget you

 

Please remind me,

 

Or maybe I should send a mail,

 

And in the subject line:

 

Re: Mind Me

 

Mind Me;

 

‘Cos I’m being ignored,

 

You walk past me without a glance,

 

You moved too fast,

 

Reaching to touch the best times of my life,

 

But I’m looking through glass,

 

Now it feels like

 

It feels like I imagined you

 

Imagined this;

 

Creation of a fevered mind state,

 

Some more bullshit,

 

With mines, create….

 

Create…

 

What was I going to say?

 

 

 

Yes. I was writing about some girl…

 

But I can’t – don’t –

 

…remember her name.


Freestyle Friday: Random

 

 

 

Girls a’playing,

Time’s a’wastin’

Discordant chords banging,

And me?

I’m just straying.

 

 

Strolling,

Slaying,

Demons in my thoughts,

So I’m praying

Waylayin’,

Any pretty young thing

I can be laying

 

 

Can I be serious tho?

 

 

I’m just straying.

And me?

Discordant chords banging

 

Time’s a’wasting,

And girls are just playing,

 

 

I’m trying to be serious,

But these girls are just playing.

 

time-running-out


Blame Game

 

A hooker gets a call from her boy; “Hey lover,”

A man is thinking of cheating; he’s married to a banker

That’s the next thing, right? He’s had enough of anger,

Making a rope out of his own sins to hang her

Pushed my girl so far if she cheats, it won’t be cheating;

My neighbor loves his wife, but can’t stop the beating

Casualties of war; who’s to stop us bleeding?

Didn’t you buy the goat? Why complain about the bleating?

He just wants to get married man, fuck waiting,

All of his age-mates have done it na; haba wetin?!

Met a simple girl who just wanted the same thing;

Look at them now, omo love is a strange thing!

That’s how I cornered Moji, at the area block party,

Dancing, bumping grinding, I swear, that girl nasty,

I’m all well-meaning, so I followed her home,

In my last moments, I’m still thinking she likes me!

Bolarinwa is cheating on his wife with his daughter,

No need to hide; his wife is doing the pastor,

Someone will soon say the devil is doing the pastor

I guess Lucifer teaches doggystyle; Pastor, ride on!

My sins; I’m paraphrasing, my life; I choose to write on,

Deep like a forest path, walking with snakes and pythons,

No one to trust – it’s my fault? Okay! Right on!

Cast the first stone if you will – just choose the right one

blame


Spotlight: Exposit – A Peek Into A Spoken Word Poet’s Imagination

 

Exposit: A Look Into A Spoken Word Poet’s Imagination

 

 

 

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In a time when local identity has almost become a forgotten phenomenon; children have traditional names they do not know the meaning of and speak a language that has no tie to their country, a tribal voice might be a necessity. Something; or someone to remind us who we are and where we’re from.

 

 

Enter Adebola Afolabi or, at least for the purpose of this piece, RezThaPoet.

 

 

Being one of the frequenters of WAPI – a now-defunct initiative by the British Council, I am familiar with Rez’s work first-hand. Around that time it seemed as though spoken word was experiencing resurgence, with Sage Hasson gracing interviews with Sound City, hanging out with the lyricist Mode 9 and Plumbline shooting highly acclaimed videos for his pieces. But then, with the disappearance of WAPI also went some of these enthusiasts – at least, from ‘public eye’.

 

 

Enter Taruwa, another space for these word-aficionados to wield their craft and for a while, Rez also performed there but it seemed more like the paroxysm of a dying animal as opposed to a purposeful action with an end in sight.

 

 

Suddenly, word on the ‘street’ was that Rez is recording a spoken word album.

 

 

Careful digging revealed that indeed, on the 25th of July, Rez released a spoken word album titled Exposit Deluxe Edition. I purchased a copy of the album via his website, downloaded it and settled to listen.

 

First single from Rez: I AM

 

Exposit Deluxe Edition opens with an ‘Introlude, Greed’ that takes into account the narrator’s perspective of something happening at a party. It appears as though, after observing a guest for a while, he cannot hold himself anymore and exclaims; ‘Na greed! I tell you, na greed!” Another ‘guest’ berates the narrator for not minding his business – and the track segues into another one; Awoof, continuing the theme of the intro. This time, Rez tells the story of several characters, how they fall prey to greed in varying circumstances and the consequences of their actions, reinforced with the repeated theme; “Awoof dey run belle!’

 

 

It’s a Nigerian term – but the applications are worldwide.

 

 

The first thing to note about Exposit/Rez is how liberally he colors his pieces with Nigerian slangs and terminologies. Sometimes, it seems as though he neglects his foreign crowd, so painstakingly earned by touring in Paris, South Africa, Namibia and so on, but the constant use of English sort of brings the narrative home. Germaine is a somewhat-regretful ode to friendships turned sour because of miscommunication and assumptions and growing apart. Asake is the ballad of love and romance; and this is the arena in which Rez flexes his writing/reciting muscles, weaving through native and contemporary expressions in a bid to capture the elusive Asake, the object of his affection/attention.

 

 

The Future is the definitive track by which I sum my experience listening to Exposit; introspective, bragging, confident, fearless. Rez’s vocals are accompanied by a haunting flute that does much to capture the calmness of the piece. Lines like ‘the future is coming for you/head-on collision/hear the sounds – as/the future is humming for you/the stars/galaxies and the universe – all turning for you/so all you need to do, olo mi (my love)/is to respect time and soon the world/shall revel in your sunshine/” puts into perspective the hopes, dreams and aspirations of a love one which could be anyone of us. The Future is clear in its message but leaves itself open to multiple interpretations; a message of hope in one’s dreams or a romantic ode to the object of one’s desire.

 

 

Lloffa is a sweeping track on greed and conflict with footnotes in history while One and The Same, the second single features a Sikiru Ayinde Barrister sample of the refrain ‘Omo Nigeria e je ka ronu jinle’ meaning ‘O Nigerians let us think deeply’.

 

 

All through the album, reference is made to Rez’s linage and traditional roots. All of these come to a head in the opus, first single and ironically last track I Am. Rez’s braggadocio is at its most evident here, reminding the listener of his royal ancestry and traditional background amidst a simple instrumental that leaves enough space for vocal flexing. It’s too easy to imagine Nas on the same beat.

 

While Rez’s writing is almost impeccable, his delivery is somewhat hesitant on a number of tracks, as though questioning his narrative or the potency of his pronunciation of certain words. However, Stormatique’s accompanying jazz riffs makes this most indiscernible and makes the listening experience a sweet one all by itself.

 

 

It’s a fitting way to begin what many hope will be a really long career – a long and illustrious career.

 

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