Fagbewesa Olaoluwa Poems

Best Poem of Fagbewesa Olaoluwa

Winning Loses
B'éyìn jábó, omo inú è fóká....
I ran through the streets of sorrows to call on sons of joys,
my feet flow with blood but onlookers taste of it the sweetness of honey.
A cauldron in the icy home of a friendly witch,
she cooks with a deadly portion
but her name tells a tale of mercy.
How shall my feet shoot the goa . . .
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I Wish I Were A Little Nightingale
I wish I were a little nightingale
To sing again and take away the woes of Keats.
How I wish I were the cool and tender breeze
That comes under the cover of night
With a gentle touch to every sobbing skin.

Sometimes I wish I were the elder’s tale
Told to juvenescent ears on leafy seats
-straying feet a . . .
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