This is a poem –

This is a poem,

Truncated before its very first word

And looking for a reason, in a muddled world, to be:


This is a poem for the lost and losers

I have gnashed my teeth too at life

Lured, sought and raved for her grace

I have laid down too under the trampling of shame

Held my breath so long that I thought it would make life pause

Just briefly enough to reconsider my cries.

I know what the weight of an empty pocket is

And I have drank from that brew of scorn

Spurned, disdained…and I have forgotten how to read the map to

Find my way back home

But I still am,

Because not even Fate could wear out my soul!



This is a poem for broken bodies,

We started life on a deficit – we were too much special.

I sing this with our voice;

Our voice that has acquired an octave raise

Because of the silent pitch of our aggrieved cries –

Do you know pain?

I do too, we have had long conversations in hospital rooms.

Have you seen Death before?

I have too, seen the inviting vacancy of her eyes

And the hideousness of her clutch.

What do you know of battles?

Bring your hands and begin to trace the war zone

That every inch of my body is.

I am war; and I become victory!



This is a poem for the lovelorn.

I know you think that being wanted by someone

Is the constituting mass of your being

And I know that moving without the anchor of that want

Makes you feel weightless, as if nothing else matters

And that the drumbeats of loneliness now make up your required listening

But sit with me awhile,

Let me show you the multiplicity of beauty in your heart,

Let me show you that seed of affection in you, that if you water with a splash of self-love

Will grow and explode with all the force that began this universe itself…

‘Let there be light’…



This is a poem for the sisyphuses

We both know that if Las Vegas was a human being

Or Atlantic City could breathe, they’ll be you,

You have lost count of how many chips you have piled and lost

You have tried to remove the tell from your face,

But life has always called your bluff

The only sure thing in your world is misery.

I too have had more bears than bull in my ark

We have both lost on the short odds

But every morning, we will still stare at the sun

And bet on finding happiness someday,

Living is a wager on which we’ve gone all in for…



This is a poem for the persuaded

For whom every fact or belief has been replaced with a single commandment

‘Life is a bitch, death is a wish’

If for each time you have considered

Choking yourself murderously, from within

A new life was granted you, you would have lived

A billion lives -because every second of you is translatable to a death wish

And I may not have words with enough buoyancy

To keep you afloat on that sea of sadness drowning you

Or words that are salves for the deep slashes of disappointment across your heart.

But if you must jump off that height of discontent

Fall on my shoulders, let my arms be your safety net

Hang on the noose of love i’ll wrap around your battered spirit

And there is no speedier thing to step in front of

To get levelled by, than the rush of fellowship I offer

Feel no shame in raging or crying –

Wipe your tears on my sleeves,

It is where I wear my heart on

And it will soak up every drip of anguish that falls from your soul.



This is a poem for the seekers

The consecrated believers –

Say unto them, O human: There is God within us

Within you and every one that ever called this Earth home

And you should not try to destroy the God of others

You should not tinder an explosion that will not just destroy others

But immolate the God in you

For we are all connected pieces of the same network

(Made of one blood – in him we live, and move, and have our being;

Your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.)

And we are all calling out to our base station in Paradise

Each voice has a signature that only heaven validates

Do not try to drown out other voices.

Prophecy, son of man – Is God not Love, not Life?

Live then, and let life

For there is no truth in this world

That was not first written in our souls.

Let each find their own truth

Let each be their own truth.


13 thoughts on “This is a poem –” by O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)

  1. I relate very well with your poem
    piercing through my ear-drum
    as the truth resonates
    in between the lines

    1. O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)


      I’m grateful for your praise
      and glad you know truth never frays
      no matter how dark the days become
      or how thick the night’s glum.
      If in this lines you see the familiar
      then know there is victory for your war
      whatever foe that tries to overthrow,
      for in the end your triumph will show
      and you shall over your failings, soar.

      Lol, tried to reply you in kind.

      1. Wow, this is lovely
        really nice and comely
        like the truth always pure

        Keep pushing on @Omoniyi-Adeshola!

  2. song of the lyre…very descriptive as to the realities of human experience.thanks for sharing

    1. O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)

      @sambrightomo, oh, kind sir, thank you for reading, i’m glad you found it good, and i’m grateful for the nice comment.

  3. ufuoma otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

    wow! wow! Just wow.
    Hey! How do you come up with your poems? What inspires you because this poem was magical. It had something in there for everyone and this one was for me” not even Fate could wear out my soul!”

    Thanks for this wonderful work.

    1. O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)

      @ufuomaotebele, lol…i’m all up here blushing, like gawwwwd- this is like the best comment EVER!!! Thanks…XOXO….I write poems when i’m bored and need to just work my rather blaise imagination. No real inspiration, just sorta ‘carpentered’ it together. I hate rhyming or metering in my poetry, i want to just keep it real and like straight, so i basically just write when i can.

      Thanks a whole huge lot for this comment. You the best.

      1. ufuoma otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

        Hahahahahah………awww. funny how boredom brings out the best in us. If you could write that when you were bored what can u do when your on cloud 9?????

        1. O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)

          @ufuomaotebele, yeah write…and i’ll write some neat, proper boring shitty piece of poem. Love the boredom inspired one better. Lol.

  4. Short of words …
    Deep, relatable n touch a nerve in the inner recess of human frail

    1. O-Money (@Omoniyi-Adeshola)

      @newnaija, wow, thanks. Great comment. I’m glad you stopped by.

  5. You are welcome boss

  6. You write well though, this one is not my style but well crafted

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