Peace Offering or Apology?


A friend of mine offended her mother and was thinking of a way to get back into her good graces. She told me about it and I thought this would help. It actually did help in case you are wondering.

I stayed up all night,
Beating myself up,
How can I ever make this right? ,
After seeing how I have messed up.     

If I can take it back,
I will do so in one powerful might,
But the wisdom to do so, I lack,
For your love is all I hold tight,

The key to my paradise lies beneath your feet,
If I never come short of what is right,
So to this act, I promise not to repeat,
Just to see your smile that shines so bright.

Times like this when what I do isn’t right,
And it looks like I am blind to wisdom’s light,
Just know that my every wrong is never meant for you,
To think I can’t confide in you in all that I do.

I have journeyed so far in life,
Only through your guidance and prayer,
One that helps me surmount each daily strife,
As I take it in stride and waltz through each layer.

Your past struggles, I know and appreciate,
It is one of this reasons I work hard to elevate,
My status, my wealth, and wisdom to mitigate,
Any chance of falling into the same fate.

The goal is simple, straight and vivid,
The plan is precise, attainable and lucid,
Yet I seem to be tardy as I move in this viscous fluid,
A mere but persistent distraction lighter than a quid.

My thoughts cannot be said at once,
Nor can they be conveyed in one breath,
My will to do burns brighter than a sconce,
But my strength wanes like frail health.

My tales may be twisted like a parable,
While I brought you anguish of an untold story,
And for when I acted like a naive constable,
I am truly sorry.

What do you think? Would you forgive her if you were her mother?


Tribute to Dad


It has been four years today, that my dad had left this world. I do not have much to say.

Four years flash in my eyes in one day,
Four years and I have so much to say,
Someone had a birthday yesterday,
While I wear this forlorn look today.

How you left was, and still a shock,
A life’s lesson as life tics on the clock,
Your errors I dare not mock,
From them, life lessons I stock.

You are remembered for your good heart,
A sterling quality of yours while you walked this earth,
You championed a holy cause with an energetic start,
One effort everyone claimed stood apart.

Since you’ve gone, I have only moved an inch,
Reality or dream, I need someone to pinch,
Or push me to fill your shoes that might itch,
As I try to make a path in this billow’s pitch.

Bringing us together in your last lap,
Seemed a vain effort but worthy of a clap,
Strange that I met Kriwu on the eve of your eternal nap,
Perhaps it was you, for ‘tis not a mundane tap

Now you have taken the eternal journey,
One everyone will board without money,
I hope you have the good company,
And Allah showers you mercy, one too many.

Rest on Mr. S.K.A. Bhadmus.





Empty Space

I do not even know what to call this but you might need to read it more than once to see its relevance to what is happening in the world and in Nigeria. Please Enjoy.



A walk on the pavilion,
Thoughts rush, lost in oblivion,
Short paced steps like a minion,
Deprived of hope, the bane of a million.

The Crisis of the East,
The Collusion of The West.
That berth a nefarious beast,
That stirs the hornet’s nest.

The tyrant of a leader,
Left alone to kill his own people,
Silently applauded by that clown of a leader,
That knows nothing but to poke in the middle.

A land of tranquil, now of chaos,
Crumbled building is what they paid us,
For the price of a new nation that we seek to make,
Only leaves death, tears, and sorrows in its wake.

They brought education to improve the mind,
Through it, we have moved leaps and bounds,
But the class that makes the mind has not changed as you would find,
That development of the mind comes from a contrasting ground.

Watch the news and read a daily,
It abounds with sorrows, ads, and lies,
Makes you ask if the life we live daily,
Isn’t a script written by the wicked, as they watch with unperturbed eyes?

The old are wizened but not vast,
And oblivious to the modern vices,
Perhaps just happy to see child nurturing chores dissipate fast,
As they fold hands while the young’s future is chipped away in large slices.

Many have died but left an impact,
Their legacies is what still inspire,
The few who have resolved to stand and act,
To correct the debacle that might catch “fire“.

I only know of yesterday as I have lived it,
For tomorrow’s cards has an unknown ace,
But through the debris, turmoil and heat,
Is nothing as clear as this empty space.




It gives me great pleasure to share someone else’s work on this platform. I am really humbled to have been bestowed an honor such as this. Please enjoy this from penvoices.
It seemed out of joy I escaped
Left its hideout times ago
On a path full of thorns
Through the coastal sorrow
Burned white and sheltered body with black
So quick reached a house alongway
Plastered House Of Sorrow on the house
With worry and weak hearts entered I
Hands waving in distress and horror
The wildest beauty of ugliness appeared
Skin painted with black
Shattered cloths, scattered homes
Dead smiles, braided faces
Kids sucked blood gushing out from mother’s breasts
By no food left no milk
Piteous expressions sparked
Thought told me I was in Africa
It seemed out of sadness I embraced sorrow
Down the coast the journey continued
On a hot sand of sorrow in barefoot
Yet thorns of life stepped upon
Board indicated Adieu To Joy
Below showed Land Of Tears
Dropped tears could be on the sand traced
Land wet by fresh blood
There, grief was cheaper than sorrow
Broken bones and sliced flesh littered
Burnt bodies and burnt houses ashed
For by my glance, pain married death
Of my sobs, land wet
Teeth gashed, lips bitten
Skull hanged, skins floored
Thought told me I was in Africa
It seemed out of sorrow, joy found me
Continued journey resulted in pretense
Running on a track of  gold
No thorns nor nails surfaced
Greenland gold everywhere
Screen televised Land Of Myself
Thought injected by the city’s name
Skiny men digged gold with empty belly
There stood pot belly commandant
In vain my joy resulted
 I shivered, for man was for himself only
As pot belly commandant packed golds
Golds digged by skiny men
And thought told me I was in Africa
Olatunde Temitayo
O. Tayo GYP
Abijah Of Lines


This is spurred by the things we try to do and what we go through before we take the first step toward achieving anything. It is the second guessing that makes us delay, or spurs us on to go ahead and achieve or makes us run back into our shell. please enjoy.


Sometimes it is cold,
And it is hot other times,
It faces us real bold,
It disrupts and gives uneven rhymes.

Some days are blue,
And it is bright on other days,
Its words are blunt but true,
One that we interpret in many ways.

Some nights are long,
And short on other nights,
It chokes hard in the lung,
When the dreaded is under lights.

It is the uncertainty of life,
As events turn tides,
It is the serenity absent strife,
Knowing progress is made in assured strides.

But even when it is the right vibe,
Facts ignored can unleash perdition,
Better to collect thoughts and imbibe,
A wisdom that is rooted in elation.

My Reply,

Relationships have its own ups on downs, some thrive while others crash. But it is a glimpse of what to expect in a marriage. An ex once asked why we never worked out and I sent her this;

Sorry it took this long to get back to you,
Perhaps it is hard to recount this to you,
Living the past in the present is hard to do,
I was honest, loyal, and I loved you.

You made me agree to a pact,
One I kept intact,
Even when I could outplay your tact,
Not giving in, I left you intact.

Now you and I made this vow,
And I was open to you then and now,
Though it was a hard ground to plow,
On it, seeds of trust bloom to bow.

Imagine my shock when I came to know,
That we have built an empty house to show,
A waterfall with no stream to flow,
A heart crushed in one swift blow.

She could only reply with “Hmm” and “Wow”

The Random playful thought

This piece has spanned a year. and I stumbled on it today. I wrote this with sleepy eyes… I think I will call it “The drifting Incomplete thought”.

Enjoy Below

I’ll write this just once,
I’ll keep making mistakes,
Repeat the same ones,
If need be, so long it takes,
The folly out of me,
And make me,
Who I’m meant to be,
For all I can see,
Is the abundance of the sea,
With choices on a spree,
So I’ll adjust my sail,
Hope that the tide shall prevail,
To help me through storms where I fail,
When salty wind is all I inhale,
I’ll be there kneeling,
With my head, bent asking,
The Almighty, the Oft-Forgiving,
For another day to relish in.

I’m done, what are y’all expecting? I’m not a poet…goodnight