Skip to main content

THE DEADLY CONFLUENCE


By Ola Vincent Omotade


With your sad sacred face,
you're deadly, feared by death himself.
Despite all, great minds resides in you
oh KOGI !
You left people to self-starvation and slaughter's
Your bamboo keep bamboozing fire,
Your took labourers to the hill, calling it screening,
Punishing them with their wages & Salaries
Squandering billion of papers called naira's
Please have pity oh ye confluence,
You know they are MEKUNU'S AND TALAKALWA'S
Even though they were employed by Balewa
Vigilanced and sieged by POVERTY.
Though our differences in opinions
ended in blows,
Differences in vision
and our brows in tears ,
Lord do come to our help
Because We are stolid through sheer helplessness.
All We wish is you stand strong and stiffed
Face your fear, get great Cheer's
Then you can become the Riches confluence.

ALL FOR BETTER KOGI STATE

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

WHY DO TEARS FOREVER FLOW?

By Ola Vincent Omotade As I lay on my bed this morning, with sunlight streaming through the window, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtain and I saw the sky turn blue.. OH! its a new day I said. Just as I took a step to go get my pink hard smoker's brush and a Dabur-herbal toothpaste to spray on my brush, I heard someone crying in terribleness. I was weak in my spirit and all I did was to rest on my cushion, threw the brush on my carved mahogany bench and these were words that interfered with my heart. I realized coming to this earth, newly birth nothing in my hand I bring. simply naked to the earth I come, looking for dress in tearsa Oh for us We came hale and hearty, But yet tears trooped out from our eyes, the little helpless baby. Looking for ways to support living, we sow in tears but at times reap in joy, not always every time though. Going through the nooks and crannies of pains in craft works, handiworks and education (disciplined with tear...

ÌGBÀ ÈWE (CHILDHOOD DAYS)

By Teslim Opemipo Let our mothers come like harmattan haze and swear by the sacrality of ògún if the roof lying above their fathers' house has never been stoned by a boy in love to walk them out for an evening talk. Let our fathers come like a windy rain and swear by the simplicity of òsun if the path that leads to the village stream has never danced to serenades sang by their soles in chase of maidens with braids so long. Let the elders come like a mid-year harvest and swear by the tranquility of the moon if they've not once tasted the bliss of childhood fermented with the morals of moonlight tales. In our village, childhood is made of water; kinsmen, remember, water is brewed with life and life is the laughter moulded on our lips when we gambol from rivers to trees and to fields painted in the colours of hopping grasses. Brethren, if you hear an elder saying: growing up kills laughter and joy, do not giggle for they once like us tasted the bliss o...

FACULTY OF THE MIND

By Jeremiah JOSHUA Deep darkness invades the mind, as thoughts of evil walks its hall way, giving impulses of feelings, lustful ones claiming to give peace. Strong and strange desires craving for what looks like the unknown. giving suggestions to the faculty on how to deplete and decrease our spiritual GP of righteousness. Trying to do good was the intent, but seeing a rival in our senses. haven't clearly seen and read this  lines from the book that gives wisdom that this courses are not to be taken in this great citadel, the MIND. But consciously and unconsciously we see them sneaking and stripping into our classroom to be masticated and acted upon. Slowly breaking down our tower piece by piece and leaving the faculty in ruins and not in peace . The infallible and irrefutable words we have once read from the book of wisdom is all we have left to stand against and battle this evil encroaching the terrains of our faculty. To yield to the great pers...