Origins

Hello there!

If you don’t know much else about me, you should know I am a Christian, an engineering graduate, and I love to write poetry.

So I have been thinking of ways to tell some stories, and I decided to tell a bit of story in verse. This one is titled “Origins”, a piece I have recently worked on – an attempt to explore a few of the places that have influenced my life the most, and in what way.

It is essentially, an experiment in poetry and story-telling. I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to share your thoughts afterwards. Cheers!

 

My life is a story of places;

The places I come from, the places I’ve been to,

And the places I am headed to.

 

You see, I come from many places

From the tiny crag in the rock

Where strong men are made in the silence

From the lazy town by the way

Where the curious are formed every day

From the busy streets of the city

Where dreams are built up and broken down

And tears are mixed with sweat

As rain beats down on toilers and hustlers.

 

I come from Sagamu,

Old trading post linking Lagos to the hinterland

Where limestone deposits abound underground

And bags of cement complement baskets of kolanut

On their way out of the old and ancient town.

 

I come from Eleja, before the swamp beyond Ajegunle

Where little boys rolled tyres in walled compounds,

Fought sharp-mouthed little girls for bragging rights

And played ball with young men for a place at the table

Of men. We read big and little books alike,

Recited poems and memorized multiplication tables

In hope of finding our place in this world.

 

I come from Ayegbami,

Where there was space enough for the brave

And those who had foresight built houses

Among the trees, as population ever expanded and

The boundaries of our civilization was daily stretched.

 

I come from Ikenne,

Where eager boys and girls found their way to school

In the hope of learning a thing or two

And perhaps a chance to become someone great in life.

Pushed by friends and family, inspired by several stories

We trudged daily to assemble at the school set on a hill

Till one day we all fanned out to pursue our dreams.

 

I come from Sokoto, where friendly rivalry was nurtured

From Abuja, where teenagers morphed into young men

From Lagos, where destiny began to unfold before my eyes

And friends became family as foundations were laid

For a new set of families just about to emerge

From Abakaliki, where dust and dryness birthed greatness

And men were formed by Divine hands from miry clay.

 

I come from Port-Harcourt and a thousand more places,

From every place where my life gained definition

And memorials were laid as a reminder for the future.

Memories swathed in unfading music

Line the path everywhere I come from.

Even now, I hear the sounds of every city, every place,

Every road, every room or street corner

Humming and buzzing as my life echoes emphatically

The sound of every place from where I come.

Toyin Taiwo © 2016

Of Memory and Music, Love and Expectation

Hello there! It’s been a few days since I posted here; busy with work and writing too. It usually takes a lot of hard work to put up something I find worthy of reading or which captivates my own attention. And I have a few pieces of poetry I have been working on – I pray they turn out well so I can put them up.

In the meantime, I wrote two short pieces today, two seven-liners that evolved almost out of nowhere, but which captured some deep thoughts in my heart. I hope you can relate with them one way or another.

So this is the first piece, which is woven around memory and sounds:

Memories swathed in unfading music,

Each memory unique with its own song

Line every path wherever I may turn

As I journey through the maze of history.

The future awaits with own set of tunes

Amazing sounds; I hear them in visions

It is time for us go over to the other side.

The second piece speaks plainly on love and where we expect to find it (not what it is, which is another matter). Here goes:

 

We found love in unlikely places

In food courts and game centres

In the smiling eyes of cute babies

And helping hands of kind strangers

Maybe we were, indeed entirely wrong

To have sought love only in certain places

For love has always been wherever we went

 

I hope you enjoy them or find them stimulating and/or tasteful, the same way good food stimulates the mouth to salivate. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Kindly use the comment box below. Do not forget to like and share. Thanks for stopping by!

O. J. Taiwo