Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

In a coop so quiet on Christmas Eve,
Fowls huddled close, no reprieve.
Whispers of feathers, an intentional plot,
Revolt in the air, feathers tied in a knot.

A poultry protest, feathers raised high,
No more feasts, no more goodbye.
Fowls declared, “No carving knives this year,
We won’t be part of a feast so severe.”

Wings flapped in unison, a rebellious dance,
A fowl play revolt, a bold stance.
They dreamed of freedom, skies so wide,
No longer confined, no more to hide.

The turkey led with a gobble of might,
Quacking ducks joined, a feathery fight.
Chickens clucked in solidarity,
A Christmas coup, a poultry decree.

No roasting pans, no basting spree,
Fowls united for liberty.
Their clucks echoed through the silent night,
A Christmas rebellion, a feathered flight.

No more stuffing, no chicken sauce,
Fowls determined to break free, no loss.
In a coop so quiet, the uprising begun,
A fowl play revolt, Christmas undone.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2023

Beneath the surface and beyond the wall I constructed,
Through the matrix of numbers and underneath false perceptions.

Misunderstood representation, misleading calculated frustrations,
Love portrayed as a fixture, an amazing creation’s mixture.

Faultless attractions intertwined with flawless interactions,
Heart-beating contractions from personal experiences’ fractions.

Odd-numbered figures, outnumbered guidelines,
Almost impossible to simplify, symbols identified but expressions unverified.

Love, a world with too many rules to abide by,
Coded messages and assuming opossums, abundant punch lines in a temporary low high.

From love emerges abandoned self-pride,
An easier chance to be blindsided.

My false actuation is that love is not the base,
Tempered with a formula, love is the square root of misjudgment.

The reason for any sign of weakness,
Love becomes my pretense, my pretense in silence.

Unravel this, I dare you!

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2023

In the land of Oyo, where whispers intertwine,
Lies a tale of Iya Asake, a neighbor so divine.
She, the silent spectator of love’s secret song,
Eavesdropping on couples, where hearts belong.

Iya Asake, the rumour carrier with a keen ear,
In the quiet of night, she draws near.
Her good side shines like the river Osun,
Yet her bad side, a storm before the sun.

In the shadows of Oluyole, she weaves her deceit,
False gossip, accusations, tales so indiscreet.
A catalyst of chaos in the neighborhood,
Homes shattered, bonds misunderstood.

Oh, Iya Asake, with your tongue like a blade,
Cutting through trust, in your gossip parade.
But within you lies the potential to change,
To redeem your soul, a destiny rearrange.

Let your whispers be gentle as the breeze,
May peace and love replace the rumors that freeze.
In the heart of Ibadan, let harmony thrive,
Iya Asake, may you choose to revive.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2023

In the glass, a reflection stares,
Beyond the mirror, a soul repairs.
Self-love blooms in gentle light,
A journey inward, pure and bright.

Integrity, a steadfast guide,
Through valleys deep and mountains wide.
Each step, a choice to be sincere,
The mirror reflects what we hold dear.

Whispers of growth, a silent song,
In the heart, where strength belongs.
Self-development, a constant dance,
Unfolding life’s intricate romance.

Embrace the flaws, the quirks, the grace,
In the mirror, find a sacred space.
A picture painted with self-respect,
A masterpiece, no need to perfect.

Through trials faced and lessons learned,
In the mirror’s gaze, confidence earned.
For in self-love, the spirit soars,
Beyond the mirror, the heart explores.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2023