Adeayo poetry

Lounging in my office All alone am here; Lounging half awake. Idly listening to the wind Blow through my window. One tired feet on my laden desk; A picture perfect symbol of tired. Me and the wind had a talk; He was howling all his woes At globetrotting a thousand times. I was silently bewailing my fatigued self. We both have been overworked for the day. Mine has come to a pause, His is still in play. I envied him his freedom at first But then I wondered aloud, What he saw in my state to feel bitter about. He told me in his whooshing speech, How he has no pause from work; Can’t even grow tired without dying. Work is his life and recurring hell, And there’s no end to his walks. Although we had a grumbling talk; A ghostly, refreshing opening of the mind, And we envied each other our states. We both knew, deep down we can’t  Switch places or swap fates. I know I’d rather work hard half the day  And have the time to rest like now, Than trot the globe like the wind Lounging apace i...

​ Bow the heads We bow our heads As if in worship As if we are in church In religious piety We bow our heads All day in contemplation No care to changes around us Oblivious to all but it We worship it so much We can’t do without Staring into its rectangular face We bow our heads at our phone AdeayoPoetry

Here Are 14 Unique Words You Can Use To Replace "You are Welcome".  1. Everything is fine. 2. Oh, anytime.  3. I am happy to serve you.  4. Of course.  5. Pleasure to help you. 6. Glad to help.  7. Doesn't matter.  8. Don't mention it.  9. It's not a problem.  10. You have it.  11. It's nothing.  12. It's my pleasure.  13. Never mention.  14. Anytime.

“Every artist was first an amateur” – Ralph Waldo Emerson 🎨 by Nusenu Prince “Creativity takes courage” – Henri Matisse 🎨 by Bob-Nosa Uwagboe - Inspired by the END-SARS movement. “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” – Pablo Picasso 🎨Hysteria by John Ogbote “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” – Thomas Merton 🎨 by Babajide Olatunji “You don’t take a photograph, you make it” – Ansel Adams 🎨Obafemi Awolowo by Marnabas Macaulay “A picture is a poem without words” – Horace 🎨A Sense Of Identity by Innocent Chikezie 🎨 The Longing by Sydney Osioh “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents.” – Bob Ross 🎨Ibile by Fagunrosi Segundo 🎨Some works of Freddie Cabral 🎨By Ben Ibede This scene is so relatable 😊 🎨 by Lateef Olajumoke 🎨Sculpture by Kehinde Wiley 🎨 Awelewa by Eyitayo Alagbe “Creativity is contagious, pass it on” – Albert Einstein 🎨 the baby and his mother by Koku Jones Word Carvings by...

“Every artist was first an amateur” – Ralph Waldo Emerson “Creativity takes courage” – Henri Matisse “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.” – Pablo Picasso “You don’t take a photograph, you make it” – Ansel Adams “Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” – Thomas Merton “We don’t make mistakes, just happy little accidents.” – Bob Ross “A picture is a poem without words” – Horace “The principles of true art is not to portray, but to evoke” – Jerzy Kosinski “Painting is easy when you don’t know how, but very difficult when you do” – Edgar Degas “Creativity is contagious, pass it on” – Albert Einstein 🎨 by Nusenu Prince 🎨 by Bob-Nosa Uwagboe - Inspired by the END-SARS movement. 🎨Hysteria by John Ogbote 🎨 by Babajide Olatunji 🎨Obafemi Awolowo by Marnabas Macaulay 🎨A Sense Of Identity by Innocent Chikezie 🎨 The Longing by Sydney Osioh 🎨Ibile by Fagunrosi Segundo 🎨Some works of Freddie Cabral 🎨By Ben Ibede T...

The call of the rain The much awaited tropical rain Pitter patter in large rain drops A final squeeze from the dry tear duct Welcomed to cleanse the land Let all that whither stand In concert with the windy rain A welcome relief from the self-inflicted pain Of dust clouds and coughs And catarrh streaming down the cuff Welcome the call of the rain Now quiet, like its in vain Or I hear the sound amiss Is it so wrong to miss The cold and goodly rain That can wash away africa's pain? ©AdeayoPoetry

courtesy of vectorstock Eternal love, undying hate Both are sweet and sour You choose which to taste Love to one might be dour Or perhaps a twist of fate. Hello hate so sweet Or love groaning in pain Unsatiated heat Burning out the shame I feel a rumbling defeat Imminent! It finally falls All forms of love replaced By the sweetest of all Hate and anger highly placed On the pedestal in the hall I loath myself so strong For the love I feel For one so wrong I know not what to feel When love was still young I fail to repent on time And bid it ride along Love and loath combine As I tread this path along Yet I knew you won't be mine But I trod on with you I hate my weakness, emotion That made me such a fool Sticking still to the motions Even after knowing what's true That we are not meant To meet at all in the end Nor till beautiful death Makes us parallel Even if we tried our very best It was fun while it lasted Least its a story well said I'll still be sober like I've faste...

I found out something Like I always do, That "I don't mind" thing That almost always is true. I find I can't control my thought, Or maybe just found it difficult To tear myself away from a thought My brain has attached to like a fault, To share, dissect and solve. To a new sudden flow That wants to intrude on the curve, To be worked on as first in tow. I think my brain gets confused On which to pick first, When thousands clamor for it to choose. And almost always thirst To be first to go under the grinding blocks. My brain literally goes over drive To produce a hale of works, sharp as swords, Smarting my skull, like an attack from a hive. My speech stutters and falls Like I've run out of what to say. On the contrary, I have lots But they come in heavy torrents a million way. Hence, I tend to stammer or go mute When a simple question is asked of me. Like an amnesiac, or growing a sore tooth I weary to talk as its too slow to free, My mind of its heavy, roiling bur...

I have something you don't An abiding hope, maybe its me But I see people loose their wont On things they hope to see In themselves and don't But no, that's not for me I have this hunger That is never quite sated Its my lifeblood, my heart's fire It sustains and leaves me breathless To continue on, even through pyre Till I've become what I was fated I can't stop for breath My loved ones can't wait I shall drop the burden when I'm set At the peak without shame To draw all of them To the peak I've attained But for now I trudge Along the road Though stones and thorns May stay on my way as I go I shall crush those I can or dodge Those I can't, till I achieve my goal ©AdeayoPoetry

she was dusty and rugged like the whole bunch including the one in front of me selling me ground melons. her long-sleeved shirt, torn at the armpit showing brownish looking hair (which I believe might smell as much as it looks, as she pulled down a bag of satchet water from her head.) was rolled to her arm, no different from any random trader in the dusty market till i saw why she stuck like a sore thumb on her dusty, right, big toe was fixed, like a diamond ring on a pig’s nose; a fake nail, the only lone one shining on the otherwise dusty feet. in a glossy, bone death inducing, crawly, unbelievable white so out of place, I thought for once it was an illusion of the dusky light setting in at the horizons, till on second glance I confirmed it on the person who did the honours of having it. all through my stay in the market enduring the noise and dusty hubbub my mind kept yelling “to white! too white!! too white!!!” ©AdeayoPoetry

image by shutterstock.com 'Jump the queue, jump the queue!' That little devil sings like a banshee To those little bells useful for fetish. The reasoning voice in quiet sleep No counter to the shriller, give? Well, then I guess I'll jump the queue. We all have criminal tendencies. To challenge the rules; in our blood. We subconsciously think we are a god. But gods don't jump the queue And certainly do not have options to choose. Silly mortals with extreme pride frequencies. We delight in breaking the law An achievement, we think. If we do Bragging heaven and earth like fools. Yet those laws keep us free From the devourers roaming deep In the badlands outside the walls. We think being free Makes us into a god? Who can raise and make fall. gods envy us as well For we can choose heaven or hell. Which is something they can never be. ©AdeayoPoetry

The wood was sawed off Spilling its precious sap Like flesh torn apart Gore and blood running off The bloodwood Eaten into with serrated teeth Lobbed off its feet Like a roughly cut morsel of food We are getting cut in two No unity in sight People and government in a fight One side bleeding like the gopher wood I wonder and ponder If we can ever live in peace I can feel a revolution piece by piece That will tear us asunder If our blood be the sap That will end up spilt To ensure there is a split From corruption, let it be a bleeding tap. Just like the bleeding wood Grievances accumulating for centuries Over our plundered treasuries Will spill out strongly very soon To those who think us fools Though today we bleed Tomorrow you may be the one to plead When your evil deeds catch up with you #deeds #sorosokey #EndBadGovernance ©AdeayoPoetry

I played Russian roulette With my troubles I won repeatedly Till I thought I was a winner Yet he refused to die He won for the first time today And the death slot is in my hand Facing my temple. My turn to pull the trigger And I know this is the last Time I'll ever do ©AdeayoPoetry

Heaven and Hell is a symbol to me; a balance of good and evil. One exist for the other, And none is without the other. Most people say they are not evil; look themselves in a mirror and lie straightfaced. I don't have a mirror, but if i do. I will be truthful and say I'm a bit of both; Leaning closer to the darkness every single day. We all are; light and darkness combined, Both related. And influence of their conflict, Reflects even in the good we make. For good to one, is evil to another. And evil to one, is good to another. Too much good itself can be a form of evil, And he, all alone is not whole. His companion must follow. Hence, the concept of good and evil, Light and dark, Heaven and Hell. All contend, but none prevail. All in a flux of balance, Which keeps nature safe. We are children of nature, And should come to terms with it. Embrace the good as well as evil, And keep both in balance. That's the way to it, And I know of no profitable way either. ©AdeayoPoetry