THE ART OF WAR

Tearing my skins apart

Ripping my bones about

Shattering our faces

With spores and loop holes

That is the Art of War

We are with LIFE

The Art of War is always designed beautifully. Think about all Wars that you have heard off, it is not only done shooting each other, and bombing each other till the last person or a country surrenders. An Art of War is designed with great technicality but all this beauty in it is all in deceit.

You see, when we were growing up in our different primary, at secondary and tertiary institutions, I must say that we knew nothing then. Some of us took our Education with passion while we others was just doing it with levity. I don't know if they were aware of what Life will dictate.

Concerning our parents then, when they held us in counsel, beating us and discipline us, we didn't know that life's lessons will be harder. And sometimes, we look at ourselves while putting on a worn out jeans, a shirt that sun has blasted it's colors with unmatched pair of bathroom slippers. Then we realise and exclaim "Wow! I didn't know this was what daddy and mummy were drilling down my ears". Ah! Just look at you now living in regrets. Well, I will say it is never too late for you, be it a lady and a guy.

You see, this Nigeria of today isn't as it is back in the days. Or should I even say the world at large has taken many step in retrogression.. But my sister and my brother, wetin Naija dey tell una be say " you better take life serious once you realise that you are responsible or else, Life  will show you how to take things serious at a latter time.

Most of us enter different groups that adds no value  to us. Cultism, Prostitution, Clubs every day of the week, fraudulent acts, drugs, beer parlours and addiction to sex just to mention a few.. There is something I’ve come to realise in life, money that you didn't get with your hard working attitude, can never lead to prosperity. Life will eventually make you sweat to get it.

I’m just worried for the next generation. If life can be this hard for our own generation. Well, the next generation are the ones that I am directing this letter to.

If you are realise  that things are hard to lay hands on, you had better sit up, take things serious and concentrate on getting good grades in school. But if you are still gyrating all over, I bet you, Mr life itself will teach you in an harsh manner.

Written By;

ADEBAYO, Busayo.

SAUCY MOTHER Continues...

ACT THREE, SCENE TWO

(Boye is prepared to head out but the cold hands of death called on him).

Boye: (As Boye stepped out, the faces he met outside scares him).

Thug 1: Shey iwo ni boye?

Boye: Beeni sir! Beeni sir! I am boye

Thug 2: O ma n so oyinbo!!!

Thug 1: Iya eh to man se epe yen, pe jade sibi.

Boye: Ejo sir, maami o si nile.

Thug 2: O fe ma n gbe Iya eh pamo abi? Ehn! anyway, ese iya eh, emi ma so fun eh! Iya eh, o shey epe le aburo mi wipe oko magba, oko de tigba aburo mi ni sin. Ese Iya eh, iwoloma je iya eh!. Padi eh! Oya, tusi lara” perforate eh”.

Thug 1: (Removes gun)

Boye: Ah! Ejo sir, e ni sukun omo. Ewo bible mi, church ni mon lo.

Thug 1: Shebi na church you dey go? Ehn! O ni need screening lenu ona orun ki oto wole, na heaven you go land straight.

Boye: Ah! (Gun shot heard) yeeeeh. (And dies).

WHOREHOUND

Gucci! Marc Jacobs! Burberry! Designer Shoes! Designer Glasses! Custom Made Shirts! All his Native are well designed and damn expensive. These are his style of dressing anytime he is going out. He loves looking good in public and among his friends. He drives a Range Rover Jeep. Oh! I forgot, he loves taking pictures, go to all his social networks sites, it will prove his love for pictures. To round all I said up, he lives a very expensive life.

Who is he? He is the famous Casanova who takes pride in himself being called that. Five ladies in his yacht. Three ladies in his Bentley. And more in his numerous buildings.

Once he successfully finishes a deal, he'll make a huge sum wired to his event planner who knows what he wants and does not.

All what he uses this show off for is to flirt and engage around in sexual relations. He does not know the battle he is heading  for. Neither does he know he is heading to fall in a gutter with his eyes closed.

Every time, he moves to the next Lady, if the he wants to have His way with isn't interested or is cultured well from home.

He does not have a limit to his libido. If it is to gay around, he is ready. If it is to older women, he is more than ready because of the payment he will receive with no consideration of how rich he is already. If it is to abuse younger girls, girls way young to be called his firstborn child, he does not have interest to consider their age. If it is to Casanova with ladies around his age, this one's are always at his Beck and call so long he as money to lavish on them.

I do not know where he get this brains from.

Either his training from birth was in zigzag pattern?

Or his parents are always the busy types that left his bringing up under an already loosed house help?

Maybe his parents grew tired of correcting his wayward ways in life?

Or he was a dog locked inside for a long time that was on heat all this while, as soon as he gets an escape route, so the spree begins?

Whether his ears were just deaf to his parents’ teachings? I do not know.

Sometimes, he manages to get a condom to use. But when the heat is damn hot, I tell you, na flesh to flesh remain for this night owl.

But there are guys that are far richer than he is that manages not to get lost in the pleasures of their wealth. In fact, they still manages to live through the koñji days till marriage night. Why can't you this famous pleasure seeker  just caution yourself back into the lane? Where is your conscience Mr Skirt chaser? It is not hard I tell you, to flog your ears back into hearing.

You are enlightened but your ears are deaf into hearing about this many many Sexually Transmitted Diseases. There is Shypilis, Chlamydia, Hepitisis B and more. In fact, a recent research even proves that Gonorrhea is becoming untreatable. There is Human Immunodeficiency Virus(H.I.V) and their master which is Acquired Immune Deficiency(AIDS).

My dear whore lord, Oh! Sorry, my dear brother , it is better you hear the screams now or you will be left alone to cater for yourself with no strength.

Hear this now, all the money and expensive properties you own, will be blown into thin air when health matters hits you hard.

Written and Edited by; ADEBAYO, Busayo.

A Romance With The Devil...

It is a romance with the devil

A romance that sci rated into painful memories

Memories of heartache

Memories full of tears

Tears that became heavy raindrops

Raindrops that bathe me all over

That rippled into

The spores of my cloth

Into the holes of my flesh

Down to the feet of my soul

A kiss with the devil

A long deep kiss with the devil

A deep kiss that made the devil

Scuffle through my lengthy Indian hair

A kiss that made the devil

Roughed all over my

Hibiscus deflowered bottom

From the claws of the devil

I took a deep scratch

Which left multiple open paths for;

Blood to stream out

Then the devil took me on his Cart

Spinning, twisting and turning me

Down into the sea of fires

Round on the edges of rocks of burning coals

Ah! Ah! Ah! Auch!

Were the tunes

That I was screaming out

When I was ravished by the devil

His tojours rigid pintle

Dig through my deflowered vulva

Like a newly wedded novia

Chasing after her nuptial ring

That was suddenly flushed in the water closet

This was my romance with the devil

Written and Edited by; ADEBAYO, Busayo.

SAUCY MOTHER CONTINUES...

ACT THREE, SCENE ONE

(Shantel is already dressed for an outing with Chief in the Brothel She is staying. As soon as she steps out of her room, two other angry prostitutes were on siting position and ready to get into an argument with her). 

 

Protitute 1: (Stylishly engaging her friend in a conversation to Shantel's hearing) So my Britico friend, as I dey yarn dey go, person no go fit get market because of another person again biko?

Prostitue 2: (A britain deportee talking in her British Accent) My dear, if it's in Britain, she cannot always passes away such behaviours, we would have made her spent the rest of the past days in hell.

Prostitute 1: (Laughing out loud) My britico pal in this ashawo business, una no go kee me with all this una suggestions. We fit set her na, we go find way put something for her drink wey she go shit for days.

Prostitute 2: It is a good idea though, but for me if it definitely not enough.

Shantel: (The prostitutes laughter continues as Shantel decides to walk back and give them a reply) I knew something was definitely wrong when I met you both at my doorstep. I mean your rooms are far apart and you cannot suddenly change your rooms to a close one to mine. Look at you the always forming foreign, you couldn't make a good living for yourself while you were out there, you decided to get your two left legs deported and still, come's back into being a prostitute in Nigeria. Forming foreign for us all here, My dear, you are in Nigeria so start talking in your Naija tone. Two years abroad and you picked an accent, hush! (The second Prostitute was amazed to hear Shantel speaking in Normally) And you this one, very soon we go soon put ourselves in the rings and... (her phone rings and she picked up her call) As you can see, Chief! My very own Chief is outside to pick me up to have, anyway, una both sabi the rest of the story (She eyed them and then walks out. As soon as she opens the Door of Chiefs Jeep, She suddenly gets really tired, her body temperature begin to rise uncontrollably, and She fainted. Then Chief rushes out, bang his door and drove away, abandoning her on bare floor).

ACT THREE, SCENE TWO.

Shantel: (Few hours later, Shantel found herself on a hospital bed with a Dr and A Nurse standing before her. She coughed out) Haha! What am I doing here? Hello? Who are you? How the hell did I get here? Who brought me to this place?

Dr: Calm down Miss.

Shantel: You no sabi who dey on top here? I say na how the hell did I get here Mr? Oh! Una get Doctors robe on, what is wrong with me?

Doctor: I said calm down and listen

Shantel: Tell me wetin I wan hear? 

Nurse: Hmm! This one na were ooh!

Doctor: Common Nurse that isn't the right response to a patient(cautioning her) Are you calm now? Sure you are?

Shantel: Okay, mo ti fi ara bale oooh!

Doctor: Miss, a good Samaritan brought you here. You actually fainted due to the heat this weather is bringing. But it turned longer than the duration in which it is supposed to last, this made us to perform series of test on you  miss. This test results are out now which made me sorry for Miss, you tested positive to HIV and AIDS! (An exclamation sound is heard with Shantel reaction to the news).   

To be continued next Saturday

To The Tune of Love

My love for her
As moved to a soothing hands

The heartache in my heart
Grows and burn hotter

I thought this friendship 
Can soothe my soul with hers too
I never knew it is a deep sign of deep love
That we both is toying with

Now I am always in thoughts
Of loosing and chasing her
Into a more comfortable hands
I now waste sighs upon sighs

She has been giving me
Signs and signals
Her palms is always opened
For me to lay my burdens
And to hear the ocean of words
Pouring out of my mouth

She is always splitting up
For me to have a nice time
Without Courtship

I never knew she could wait this long
She was waiting to dance
To the tune of love

We both were at fault
She was a dump
While I never knew that;
I will later live in regrets

Written & Edited By:
ADEBAYO, Busayo.

Drifting through the Wind

She is a Nylon bag
With a glorious beginning
Beautiful She was
In her toddler days
With thoughts that
She will be reasoned
As flowers and paper paints in houses

Who knew
She will be lifters
In market arena's
With her bottom dead centre
Neglected on filthy floors
And  abandoned her beauty
On grounds decorated with filths
From rainfalls of the night

Her beauteous self was forgotten
Her glorious halo was splashed with defecates
When she was dumped on bare floor
After aiding with
Her protective layer

She found herself thrown
To rally among sands
Her awesome black colour
Suffers blasts from the sun
When a strong wind blew
She often found herself
Drifting through the wind
With no actual way forward

Is it her beautiful self
That Is left to ridicule this way?
She wishes to cry
But does not posses
Path roads for tears
To run through.

Written and Edited By:
ADEBAYO, Busayo.