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Poems by Ayodele Temitope


My name is Wanderer, am sure you’ve met me before,
I wander lonely at night,
I wander lively at dawn,
I have a wander lust,
I thought jumping from one place to another will take me places,
I thought my wanderings could give me a white hope,
Others went wandering and became successful,
They were seen as white knights,
But mine was different.
I wanted to become a whizz-kid after wandering,
I thought I was on a smooth road,
Without potholes or blockages,
But it was all my imagination.
White knuckle ride I was on,
Happy and guilty I felt,
Conscience bothering me,
Then the question came, WHY?
I asked conscience but it said,
I kept it in that position,
So I unencrypted the encrypt.
The question continued, WHY?
Searched the heart for an answer,
Mind was blank but happy,
Conscience and happy blank mind, I bothered about,
But body and soul, stressed not,
Spirit, mouth and thought continued asking WHY?
Even if answer never came on board.


A big merry-go-round, it is
Very fast like the three blades of a fan that gives air,
When it’s off, the blades separates and becomes less busy
But once they come on, they go together in the same direction
And see things the same way during both happy and sad times,
Just like three best friends, it concluded.
It turns and rotate left to right offering air it possess,
Gets stuck while rotating or freely rotating with or without obstacle,
Just like how humans move, it said.
Four legs, similar but separated
Four cardinal points, thinking differently,
Flowing like rivers, oceans and seas,
Encountering different moments of life,
But having Life as one special common gift,
Like humans, it replied.
Straight with curves and corners,
Goes tall or short, ups and downs,
A round like switch going high and low,
Isn’t that Life, it asked?
A brain plugged and switched on to start processes,
Unplugged and switched off becoming stagnant,
Receiving the greatest shock ever saying it’s over
At seasons decorated beautified and adored
Recognition by name,
Good or bad bearer chooses,
Is that life! it exclaimed.
Life is like this,
Just like how a standing fan lives,
Imagine the gift Life,
A drama watched, praised and ridiculed,
A never ending drama, Life, it sighs,
LIFE!!!!!!!!!!, it shouted.


I say probs, you think probe
No I meant probs,
Probs, probs the book of the wise,
The book of wisdom, knowledge and understanding.
Probs! I call upon thee,
Fill my heart to overflow,
And I shall speak like the wise,
The fool shall listen but ignore,
The wise shall listen and increase.
Probs, probs, living within me,
Overwhelming my soul and spirit,
I act with instructions from thee,
They see the light,
Shining, the heathen stumble,
Envious the foolish became,
Glory glory, the wise proclaimed.
Probs, probs, I take instruction from deep meanings,
Comfort and fulfillment, I feel
I dress as a virtuous woman, yet admired,
Observing, the foolish complains,
Observing, the wise proclaims,
Alas, a child of the Most High, this is.
Probs, Abba Father, multitude we lead,
With pure heart and holiness,
They follow the way as we build,
The foolish follows, to mock it stops,
The wise follows and stops,
Behold!!!!! The way to life.
Probs, probs, I move in sequence steps,
Soaked in the power of the Spirit,
Moving to minister, its length and depth,
Moving to show the manifestation every passing minute,
Oh!! You heaven and earth, give ear,
The foolish reads to damnation,
The wise reads to redemption.
Give a shout, all ye people,
As I unravel this riddle,
A book of wisdom, knowledge and understanding is given,
A book of instruction, much more inspiration,
Light up our path with wisdom,
And graciously lead us home,
The book of probs! The book of proverbs.

All poems written by
‎Ayodele Temitope.

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