RED FUSE TRIP

Her pride is now crushed by conscience; she still wouldn’t make it to a last respect. No bit of her would allow that. She had pierced her son’s heart with love-the-selfish-way, yet it lived to appreciate its seed. Had she not ignored the red fuse when it first tripped, the walls of everyone’s heart she battered would have held their peace within. She let the insignificant piece of brass that should have held the fuse together loose. Not as though she intended it’d be as gross, her hatred for ‘low-class-human’ fuelled the dying element.

And even though the acquitted partook in the loss, the fire is on her.

She tripped the RED FUSE!
This is my first fictional work to be dropped here and I really know you’re going to love it.When love is absent and hatred takes its stead.A story of true love, hope, passion, dreams and discrimination against people of the low class. Its a satirical short story that portrays true pain and ambition,and It’s everything you’re going to love, it’s already out for sale @okadabooks.com

You can follow this link.http://okadabooks.com/search?term=Red+Fuse+Trip

THE SHALLOWS

​Dedicated to Catherine Nathaniel

Image by Gbenga Smith


​I’ve been thinking,just how sad it is that no one writes letters,

Not anymore,

So I’ve resoluted to writing you this,

It’s not all about the tip of my pen in alpha beta,

For even you know I’m not so crazed a writer.


I know you’ll be on that favourite table of yours,

A glass of olive idly sitting by,

Your magical fingers working its way around the brim,

And yes,the rubber pipe,

That too.


Like the sea,this runs deep, so I beg of you to listen.

You said to me, that you’ve tried to move on, taken a house down town for a change,

I reckon,that you’ve tried to rid yourself of my presence,

All it is that screams my name,

Right…


You said to me, that you want to bid farewell to all that we ever shared,

That you’ve tried to hate me,and all that I stand for,

You said you want a new beginning.

Haha, my favourite sofa…you took it out,

If I’m not delusional,you sent it to the woman next door.


Shh shhh I know you’re going to flare up when you read this, listen…

She did come around,right? I saw her

Seated at the rear seat, I saw it all.

Yes my love,it was pouring so heavily I felt my heart would drop,

I know… I know…you tried all of that.


In times like these,with the rain hitting rhythmically on my window pane,

I begin to wonder,were you a better poet than I?

With clattering teeth, I count the droplets,

For each of them , I give a name.


You said there was never an us, yet it felt like there was,

I reckon you said to me that you’ve tried it all,

You explained how by and by reality hinders your progress,

And how with the rising sun,the truth sets in.


You never really knew,but you’re that door,

That door that forever locked me in,

And no matter how hard I struggled with the knob,

I never got to leave that room.


I tried,

I tried to leave, walk down that hall and never look back,

The terrace made me a decision,

The walls slowly closed in on me,

Like your very accomplice, they snatched my soul


I looked out through the window,my one escape route,

The moon bathed me,and smiled down at me,

She said that in that room I’ll forever be,

But then the key to that door lay in the palm of my hand,

I asked what she meant, and she responded;

The mysteries that have haunted us, is now in the shallows.


Okunlola Azeezat Olayinka _Zeey_ola

SAVE ME

The dreams we had illuminate in these pictures on the wall,

The mansion, the kids,

Our achievements implanted 

around the world,

it was you and I,

 we built them together.

I lost all with you,

One last word you echoed

re echoes in words “Save me!”

The scene,it is clear as reality.

our car parked by the road side,

it was my birthday and

we were kissing, 

it was the last we had.

A loud horn!

A screech.

Bright light!

Our seconds Blinded eyes

and a collision.

The pearl gate,

The host song,

The grand welcome,

I saw you walk in,

You left but I was unpermitted.

slowly I fell,

fell through the milky way,

a billion stars,

and to my vessel.

Straight! to the theater a voice echoed behind me.

I was wheeled and I know nothing else.

O dear!there is a part to everyone that once broken never mends,

you’re that part of me,

and all I can do now

is stare at our pictures

Running back to memory.
-Abimbola

TO THE BOYS WHO WOULD DATE MY DAUGHTER


To the boys who would date my daughter

I haven’t met her mum

Maybe I have met her

But she is laying somewhere there in her mum’s belly

And I am proudly waiting 

For her 

She’ll met daddy soon

And I and her mum

Would be so proud of her.

I bet you can’t wait to meet my daughter

You know,

 she’s sweet, smart,beautiful,virtuous

And of course, she’s stronger than you all

So! Keep off

There goes the warning sign!

KEEP OFF

I’ll ring it loud and loud

Loud and clear and clear

Like the Gospel of an evangelist

Recite it with the rhythm of a minstrel

And I won’t stop until you know it 

Like your morning drilll or maybe your mermory verse.

Keep off because she’s not gonna have to depend on you

To help her do this 

Or do that

Because that’s what the society mould y’all to be

She’s not even gonna know this rhyme

“Daddy in the parlour watching film

Mummy in the kitchen cooking rice”

She’d sing a whole new song!

She’ll teach you when you meet her.

She’ll be a walking Encyclopedia

Because I’ll  make her swallow as many knowledge in books as possible

And  her wisdom will challenge you!

So! You will have to keep off

Because she really won’t be into boys

Boys love are fantasy

For she’d be loved by a man

Who would love her as I do

And care for her 

Making her feel my presence even when I am gone

Six feet under Gaia.
Other matters;

To the boys who would date her before she meet him

Who would love her as I do,

Don’t you dare touch her!

Or your femur would find itself framing the doors in my house 

Don’t you dare to break her heart,

You will only end up breaking yours

Don’t be angry if she refuses

To let you do things for her

It is because she is not born to rely on you

She is strong

She is resilient!
And to the girls would love to date my daughter

I’m sorry she doesn’t do you.
-Abimbola

I AM YOURS


Between your face and mine

Burnt the flames of passion

Immersed with bayonets

From yesterday’s quarrel

I was Ali

But you wouldn’t stoop not conquer

The third war

Between our lips

Is where we are settle

Our dispute

The sleeping dog

We finally let be.

-Abimbola.

Abita



​Aged seven,young indeed,

Like a spartan male,so I was trained,

Responsibility my utmost priority,

Culture,a curse to my being,

Tradition a bane to my dreams.

Six years and two months I was,

Traded for white kegs of palm produce,

Flung into a world of mystery,

The Genesis of my suffering,

Unbearable pains of puberty tampered.

A little into the seventh year,

In the arms of a stranger,

Entering me at will,

I lost myself.

Childbirth my worst fear,

Torn and cut open in that room,

Psychopompos led him down the shades,

Hades claimed my son,

I forever lost myself.

Okunlola Azeezat Olayinka (Zeeyola)

Mei amo

Mother’s wish for her child,

The greatest of life’s treasures

Sacrifice, bound necessity

Promises to be fulfilled,

The price to pay

Invaluable is your worth
Brutally battered,I almost lost you,

While your food remained in my breast.

But watching you smile now my love,

Chains demulsify, Cuffs shatter,

Your eyes my love,

Shuffle cards of promising hope.
The length of your neck,

Pops images of a better morrow,

Coated in stuff collars and poka-dotted ties,

Invaluable is your worth.
Incoherent words your lips mumble,

‘Mama’, your favorite of them all.

‘tuus digiti’, a pleasing sight,

Mei amo, I’ll give you my all.

Okunlola Azeezat (Zeeyola)

VOICES WITHIN MONOGRAPHS.


In this library alone I sit,

Quiet and respite I seek,

In shelved thoughts I find my muse,

Every word,my spirit amuse,

In delightful unison,my fingers lift,

The letters ,my eyes caress,

The smell of history, my heart accepts,

But wait,

The silence is no more,

The sweet piercing silence is no more,

Now I hear drum beats,

No, no, heart beats,

Poco a poco,

Forte forte,

Crescendo,

In quandary I turn left and right,

Seeking out the source aright,

Allegro allegro,

Now I hear screams,

Wails and cries,

Tales of agony, stories of regret,

The intent screeching of tires,

The deafening sound of gunshots,

The screams of a woman in labour,

The outcome of vengeful harbor,

My blood turns torrent,

My brain short of current,

Buckling under me, my knees give way,

On the floor I lay, in one drifting sway,

Imagery holds me captive,

My mind a willing accomplice,

In my head, the four cardinal points meet,

North to South, West to East,

I struggle, my body bids me no sovereign,

I want to journey, my mind whines,

Poco a poco,

Poco a poco,

Now all becomes still,

But a presence I feel,

Like rustling leafs from branches aloof,

My eyes flicker open,

Ecce! On the ground in the open,

A smile on the bark catches my gaze,

For trees alike in rows afront,

Hot perspiration flows down my face,

“Indeed here lies our fate,

In shelved Monographs,

Piercing our souls in alphabeta,

The tip of thy pen, history re-writes.”


Okunlola Azeezat Olayinka(O.A.O)



Poem Analysis

 The poet being a lover of books, seeks respite in her library as she finds in the pages of books, her source of inspiration. However, the sweet piercing silence that had for decades been the companion of this library,dissappears slowly into the heart beats coming from the shelved books that surrounds her.The poet explains her state of confusion in lines 16-17.

” In quandary I turn left and right/seeking out the source aright”

Louder and louder,the sound  grows,immediately mixed with screams and wails that told tales of agony and regret.She suddenly understands the stories they told.The souls of people long gone imbedded in grown trees on cemetery floors cut down for books,briefing her on the sharp pain they felt when death came to them to claim them and how it snatched their precious lives.The pain of being hit by a car who’s brake malfunctioned,the pain of being shot,the pains of a pregnant woman in labour just before she gave up the ghost,the pain of a sharp knife piercing through the heart while asleep.

In fear her knees buckled under her and she finds herself on the floor in the library.She wants to stop her mind from imagining and trying to feel but her mind claims it wants to go on this journey of discovery. Slowly her eyes flickers open and she finds herself in the midst of trees grown in rows and smiling at her.

In other to rid her of her doubt,the trees explain that indeed the library where her body lay,their fate lies,intertwined between pages of Monographs and the tip of our pen ,re-writing stories in alphabets.

NOTHINGNESS…

​In absolute disrupt,

My blood turns torrent,

My jaw,a three dimensional work of art,

Fingers curled up out of their own volition,

In every passing second,my heart shudders in rippling restlessness,

Infuriated to deafness,

Silence…

I’m close to nothingness.
Okunlola Azeezat Olayinka(O.A.O)