History Prefers Legends to Men

History prefers legends to men

It prefers nobility to brutality

Soaring speeches to quiet deeds

History rem embers the battle

And forgets the blood

Whatever history rem embers of me

If it rem embers anything at all

It shall only be

A fraction of the truth

For whatever else I am

A husband, a lawyer...

A president...

I shall always think of myself

As a man who struggled against darkness

I leave in your trusted hands,

My dear friend henry.

Adieu!!!

As I breathe my last breathe

Adieu!... Adieu! Adieu!

GRIEF

This is how grief goes;

First,

It will be like a dream,

You try to keep everything normal as you can.

You pretend it didn't happen

Or you pretend you can go on

As if it didn't happen,

Maybe you get angry at the world,

That its injustice.

Angry at anything or anybody really,

Then you are just sad,

Your joy is gone,

Your smile fades,

You see that person everywhere

And nothing looks the same anymore;

All the things you believed in are shaking,

Your whole foundation;

Things that were certain

Now comes into questioning

And then one day you finally tell yourself,

So far it happened and God let it,

If He did,

Then what does He want me to do about it?

How am I supposed to respond?

By: Adebayo Busayo

Dancing With Wild Abandoned

Words were dropping;

Heavily!

Like heavy rain drops from the clouds,

With tear drops from the apple.

Depressed! Devastated! Tired! And Angry!

Reasons why? Not known to me.

Decided to give the Eyes rest,

But I can't for she’s rested in;

My mind. My heart. My bosom.

She was a cherub,

With Her eyes sparkling like a dazzling diamond.

But there was something else;

Her fears for commitment I think?

Or me; dancing with wild abandoned.

My illusions broke.

My heart shattered.

My hope of a fulfilled life,

Was all delusions of grandeur?

                                Poet: Adebayo Busayo

Mushrooms

Mushrooms

That’s what we all are

Much populated when we were born

And as infants

We are tight and fighting

For survival under one gigantic root

Mushrooms

I say that’s what we are again

It now depends on how

We all decided to lead our lives

Tiny, Tiny were we created

By our Master designer

He took His time

To carve us pretty and beautiful

In a stem form

With fleshy fruity bodies

And with some gorgeous cap and stem

Pale grey or brown

Rounder while immature, but flattens

When our attentions

Gets caught with something else

Thinking we can handle our lives without Him

He also leaves us

Until we realise our grand designer is not on our back anymore

Then we discover that we are attached to the bark of a tree

He is directing us to be a star

Then we jumped ahead of Him

Sure He is going to leave us

To find our path, our route through the dark forest

By: ADEBAYO, Busayo