WELCOME!

Hello everyone! what you see here is the product of the pieces of my

thoughts gathered together to find and recall the true meaning of my
MEMORY...Please, I love you all to leave your meaningful comments to help
improve my Blog and may be through your series of comments...I may eventually
find my TRUE MEMORY...Thanks!

MEMORIES...

You are welcome to my haven! I created this in the memory of my memories...I can only hope you will always hang on here as long as you can. But if you have to leave, I want you to please:

Listen to your heart
When it's calling for you
Coz I don't know where you are going
And I don't know why?
But listen to your heart
Before you turn and say...good-bye...

So that our sweetest memories can linger on as long as we live...

Thursday, August 19, 2010

MIDNIGHT RAPE

They come suddenly'n'murder my sleep
Altering my dreams I wake up'n'weep
Every night that I lay upon my bed
        Snoring deep like a dead                                               
They come suddenly'n'murder my sleep 
Altering my dreams I wake up'n'weep


...Rats plunder my stock
Bed-bugs, mosquitoes prey upon my blood'n'suck
Rattling, struggling, dragging, Rats plunder my stock
Bed-bugs, mosquitoes prey upon my blood'n'suck
Small cockroaches too invade'n'*Tambolo* will bite
For blood-suckers, before dawn're all out of sight
...'n'*Tambolo will bite
Why they come at such a time I snore deep
I do not know, but their menace'll make me weep
Even I cannot my sweet dreams hold'n'save
Coz every time of my night's a midnight rape...

            -  by ---- Adeola Goloba



*Tambolo :- is a Yoruba word (a Nigerian Language) for a very small and tiny wild brown Ant that stings. 

This poem is a metaphor of what an average poor Nigerian goes through every moments of his life. It is a solidarity call to his plights and his lamentations...a constant reminder to the outright resistance against the unending socio-economic warfare launched by the few political affluent upon the poor masses of our Great Nation called NIGERIA.

We must fight!...fight...fight...and fight!...to the last... 

2 comments:

  1. I feel your creative pulse etched in space...profound lyrical flow. Goloba, you rock! More fire, more fire!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you Mark! I know you would be here and am glad you felt the pulse...but I can't wait to march through your blog brother.

    ReplyDelete