Poetry Corner : The Sage’s Muses Vol 3.

Poetry Corner:

Poetry Corner.

The Sage’s Muses Vol 3.

(Celeberating World Poetry Day 2019)


‘A tree
makes not a forest’.
I see
what it does suggest
whenever I watch the ants
to see the value of togetherness.
Ever you heard a snake’s accounts
of solitariness bringing penkele-mess?


A stick
that forsakes his brothers,
easy to break by firewood gatherer.
that strays from her sisters
loses ability for her natural career.


A humble hand
that partners with his twin
enjoys effortless clean wash without Klin:
a boastful hand
that undermines his twin
suffers carrying up head as though too thin.


A finger
that disregards the worth of other four
cannot beat the chest in confidence.
A leg
bereaved of his companion is done for,
putting the whole body in imbalance.


We’ll have one another’s back
when we take injuries to one
not for injuries to just one.


When, the truth, we don’t lack,
we’ll experience the strength in unity;
and realize the weakness in disunity.


Then joyful songs from our skylark,
when all hands come on deck,
and our land be cleared of her wreck.


©Oyesomi O. Emmanuel



I sold my soul to devil for he look quite foppish
I sold my soul to devil to see halycon days
I sold my soul to devil for the dangerous sprit
I sold my soul to devil for a run to almighty dollar.


I became devils bones and dice
I became devils right hand
I helped him govern his land
For I am his advocate.


At the end, I grope in error maze
My soul was set ablaze
my commerce was profitless
Devil took bit between his teeth.

-Paciolo Pen Saint.



I wander in the Wilderness grace brought me out,
a sole lie now turn to a righteous person.
I weaver and fret but by grace in faith I’m a stout,
me the rejected now turn to a blessing.


I was lost in the world, grace found me,
a useless sinner now a son of God.
I was in bondage before grace set me free,
now I’m saved by Jesus Christ blood.

where I was rejected grace makes me perfected,
my shame grace turn to fame.
what kill others, by grace I was not infected,
principality and power I conquered in Jesus name.


grace means unmerited favour,
this words in my life add flavour.
at instant I accepted Jesus as my savior,
since then my life received a good savor.


grace is the great word that save my life,
it works for me, every where I go.
it has even turn me to God’s serf,
without grace, I wouldn’t have achieved my goal.


-True grace.

What is life?

A blind husband that hears
A deaf wife that sees

-Adeniyi Yusuf.

What is Life?

A cripple husband that jogs
A dumb wife that speaks

-Paciolo pen saint.

It is about time.


We have been;
Tortured with agony,
The pleasantry being left to rot in ruin.


The dictator of the cyclones,
That which devastates the drones.
No matter how we think,
Disaster smashes even;
The moment is uttering.


Who are we;
To resist to fight for the future?
Which is rolled; out of the bags of the immature.
You have the ability to capture,
What should cross the line or not.


Personalize; your season.
The time for being selfish,
has faced depletion.
Personalize; your outcome.
You can nurture the Society;
persuading it to do good,
Get them get in the mood.


Why should you fear?
When you have at least;
an ear to hear,
a nose to sense,
a mouth to speak or taste;
a hand to feel,
a leg to stand with?
You have so much ability to bear,
The burden of the society.


It is about time that;
that we have to work,
as a single body to purge,
what is not supposed to be seen on the page.


In whatever line of work,
that you do; push towards depicting the reality,
to the people who think,
that life is a game.
Many are now wild,
it is your duty to tame,
there is only one blame;
that is the Devil.
We need not to keep tolerating his activity.


In sincerity;
take the moment,
It had been depicting all along.
Yield your hearts to your Creator.
Shun the evil that is afire.



-Gerald Tapiwa Moyo.



The world is tough.


The sea isn’t smiling
It turbulence is tough.


The cloud is mumbling
The rain is chewing devil’s gum
For it shall scold us with
Countless strokes.


The world is rough.


When you fall
Don’t get beguiled
Mundane affairs are like smoke in the air.


The world is tough and rough.

-Paciolo Pen saint.

Echo of Love.


Feelings so pure,
Hormones raging so high,
Heartbeat so perplexing,
Mouth so dumbfounded,
Mood so distracted,
Speech so unarticulated,
Mind so disturbed,
That’s the echo of love.


-Winsala Gbotemi.

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