QUINTESSENTIALLY NIGERIAN

You don’t judge based on rumor. Again, I reemphasize, “first impression matters” is a big scam. A major scam. Please let us know what we are doing.

EVERY THOUGHT

There’s an emerging stereotype about my nation, an abhorrent identity. Like other well-meaning Nigerians, I would like to reiterate that: “Not all Nigerians are fraudsters”. The 80-man list of suspected conmen (of which most are Nigerian nationals) released by the US Government shouldn’t be a basis for such repugnant labeling on Nigeria (or Nigerians).

My country – a nation of over 180 million people, the greatest black nation in the world, the Giant of Africa – is a bundle of legitimacy. I am a quintessential Nigerian. I am legit.

QUINTESSENTIALLY NIGERIAN

I am a Nigerian;
I sing in the bathroom when happy,
Jive and groove to every “gbedu wey dey burst brain”.
I’m an everyday Nigerian.

You would notice my energetic Mondays,
My rapid Tuesdays, my venereal Wednesdays, and my nostalgic Thursdays.
Oh yes, Fridays I’m grateful, Saturdays I’m playful
And Sundays I worship.

Quintessentially Nigerian,
You would find the…

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WEDA 24

THE RELATIONSHIP SCANDAL

Credit: Whatsapp status screenshot

Everyone is clamoring for a particular relationship or the other. Now we understand that unlike charges usually attract and those of same constituents repel hence, a bashful wistfulness towards the opposite sex. Are we sure that the aura of pure libido built up in our subconscious is satisfied with our shallow connections and undeep relations with folks?
Humans are forever beings that desire union. The reaction between our inbuilt lusts and the very nature of beauty that surrounds us renders particular sights aphrodisiac to us. Funny as it is, it is discovered that this craving is usually inconstant and when a hormonal reaction via sexual intercourse comes in, there is usually despite of these sights that were once awesome in the glories of their grace. What point is being made? Nothing else but the fact that we have coursed the pursuit of our thoughts and longings in the direction that is disheveling to the status of our being – what we’re made of. The reason, therefore, for the seasonal feeling of lonesomeness which we usually dismiss with our shallow hopes of finding a good definition soon.
Our relationships are undeep. Yes. They are without any depth of affection or love. I wonder how possible it would be that we live the ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ commandment seeing all we chase is to get some opposite sex to play with us in bed. True love have been mistaken for some beautiful photographs, uploading ‘in a relationship’ on social media bios, some few dates in a serene place, chatting through the night on phone or via Google hangouts (some even go to abuse such via sex chatting and its brothers) and other love ideas we got from the movies. While the afore are sometimes featured in a genuine love relationship, they don’t define love neither do they spell out the descriptions of a real relationship.
A real relationship is one that is subset to none, superset of all. The reason we continue to have problems in our day to day life is because we have failed to relationally connect with our neighbor. Just like the childhood chatter of friendship that typifies rare love bondings, a relationship is a relational connection between two entities of different, yes, substances. A good example is the love of God towards us that made Him to sacrifice His Only Begotten Son for the livesremission of the sins we committed; and how He made, and continue to make, specific entrances into our lives to show us He cares and that He is there. This relationship He made plain is not determinant on who we are out what we are made up of, it is His universal act of delight in the course of the human world. We continue to have issues in our relationships until we come to understand the import of this sacrifice of Jesus on the cross in our lives thereby surrendering to His will and living the reality that relationship should be aimed at making lasting impacts and connecting relationally to the soul of the other being involved. Yes. That relationship is more spiritual than usual, being a phenomena that existed before time.
More to the above, it is important to note that building success in one’s love life starts from putting a smile on a neighbor’s face and helping to bear his burdens occasionally.

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 23

THE CONCEPT OF BEING GODLY

Sin, as it is, is an entity separate from our beings. Have you noticed that you don’t go to hell to suffer the consequence of your being but of sin? Oh that men would separate sin from their lives and live the righteousness that they were created with.
– Denu Vour Bon

Credit: Pinterest

The scripture says in 2Peter2:9; “The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of judgment to be punished.”

The first line says ‘The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly,’ the godly as used here is one who detest sin, he hates it with all his heart, soul and spirit and he is not ready to give himself over to sin. The godly is not one who is not willing to drop and leave his sins behind him, rather, he is that individual, who after tasting of the grace of God through the salvation of his soul, would so fight sin wherever he sees it. He is that person that eliminates sinful appearances that come near him with immediate effect and he is that man who would not even entertain the thoughts of sinning. It is this man that God would deliver ‘…out of temptations.’ But if a man be unjust, though he manifest a little disgust for sin but is not willing to sincerely forsake those sins he commit, such would the Lord reserve unto the day of judgment to be punished.

In a bid to avoid being punished, you as an individual, oh you Blessed and Beloved of God, need to sincerely eliminate all the appearances of sin and sin itself around you. This will surely require you to stop being friends with some people and you will also part ways with others. In short, you would have to reject being friends with anyone that had been your sinful partner , both male and female. That is the first stage of manifesting detest for sin. And it requires cutting off from every evil conversation and association. After this, oh Beloved, you grow to the next stage and firmly preach against all those sins you have confessed before God when you were repenting. Truly from your heart, knowing the pain you passed through when you were in bondage to these things, you would preach against these sins and every form of sin. Let people know that you don’t do them anymore and that you are strongly against those things. Then the next step is to pray against falling into temptation and pray also that your former friends and all those that are still sinning should also be saved. From here you graduate to the level of seriously reading and studying of your Bible, because it is the map that leads to heaven. You would study the Bible very well so that you can know what God wants you to do the more and make sure you do what God have told you to do through His word. You also will continue everyday with the mind that Heaven is real and Hell is real. You will soon discover that you are now living according to God’s standard of holiness as you faithfully fulfill these things and God would deliver you, my Beloved, ‘…out of temptations.’ NOTE THAT those who are godly, according to Ezekiel 9:4-6, are those who hate sin and would not want to be an host for it. They are vexed with sin all the time and this guide I have carefully written as I was led, to show you only the surface of how you can continue from salvation to godliness without falling back into sin.

Dear Beloved, faithfully fulfill all these and the mark of God for the godly would come on you shortly… Remain blessed my Beloved. Amen. Share with all your friends.

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 22

DISSOLVED…

Credit: Pinterest @webapp.zedge.net

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I feel so empty today

I could decide to run away.

Stress is on me, I’m trying very very hard to meet up

To the standards I see all around me, my assignments, dreams, plans, timetable and all.

You know, I’m so engrossed in my thoughts

And because I couldn’t greet you this morning, you concluded I was a snub

Not knowing I’m long lost, being no longer in this realm,

With my eyes wide open but senses unaware.

While I love to move motions and be famous

I discovered I’m just too weak to suffer pain.

Could I be a victim of circumstance?

Is it true: no pain, no gain?

I’m smiling in your face but I’m in tears;

I stand in awe, I’m full of fears

But I try each day to gather up my broken pieces

And to put on some smiles’ crutches.

Would I ever blend to this system?

Would I get adapted?

Issokay, let me try to hasten up.

So many individuals are not the realities of what they are,

Because we’ve all added a little pinch of make up

Make over and so many things to tush ourselves up.

Can we help it?

Can we live what we have inside us?

Can we come out without our make ups and overs

And be bold enough to represent our thoughts?

No, your words are not enough,

We see your behaviors each day.

The craving within us we don’t understand

But we chase after mirages and turn our backs on the realities

All with the hope of a better ahead, a brighter tomorrow.

While we want to be good,

We find ourselves becoming evil.

We need help.

Jesus’ enough, yet we fail to accept.

Ain’t a religion-bias poesy though

It’s just that our hearts cry so loud and unheard of a presence we cannot define.

And our Help is near

But we fail to forbear.

Who else would heed or cry

And answer to our sighs?

This we’d search for forever.

© Denu Vour Bon

Credit: Pinterest @myfavouritewallpaper

WEDA 21

BREAKING NEWS

Click the link below to download video

https://youtu.be/SD0JQOUlwN4

https://instagram.com/ooufessa?igshid=1epgoccxw37ul

At about 12pm yesterday, the architecture students of the Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ibogun Campus, awaited the submission of their studio (ARC 302) assignment. During the course of this, two students challenged each other on who could run faster. This word challenge aggravated as other classmates supported one side or the other, as much as to place bets on who would win. Hence, a contest arose from an initial two man challenge and the question that bubbled up was: “Who would win? Is it the lightweight untrained sprinter known as Denu Vour Bon or the fatter and weightier football player called Posi?

To cut the long story short and to the surprise of all, the lightweight sprinter was outran by the weightier Posi with nothing less than 1.5 meters.

The fun did not die down after this, as many others joined the challenge and started competing amongst themselves on who could run best. Notable among these were those of Sola and Joseph; Hon. Theophilus, Comr. Dele, Manny and Duro.

The later set met a tragic ending; an ending that aroused hysterical laughter and emotional pity.

The race started well.

Duro stopped running and disqualified himself as soon as he started probably for fear. Later he told of his actions that they were based on the reactions of his instincts.

Theophilus A.O. Adelaja, a honorable of the faculty, fell with a prolonged slide on the asphalt of the roadway sustaining injuries on his jaw, left knee and a pain in his right elbow. He himself did not know he sustained any injuries after the incident at first, for he sat up and asked: “What happened?” He was taken to the college’s health care center by some other colleagues and was quickly attended to.

He’s in good health now and we pray that the Good Lord continue to preserve us from evil in Jesus name.

When asked the likely cause for his fall, he explained that his trousers was tight and that it fought against him as he tried to increase his strides. Later, the trousers snapped and rendered him off balance till her crashed to the floor on his chest.

The race itself was won by Comr. Dele Qwawiy, who was closely followed by Manny.

A student, going by the name Sen. Goke Onasanya, reported the following concerning the incidence:

“We were about to submit our project but because the lecturer in charge was taking the 500 level students, we decided to chill and wait for him outside the 500 level studio under the tree. Suddenly an argument came up between some colleagues on who could run a race better. It ended up becoming what some other colleagues decided to participate in. This guy that fell also decided to join the event not knowing it would end up in an unforseen incidence. The video is funny though but thanks to God, he is back on his knees, hail and active.”

This little event brought mixed reactions amongst the students, and while some blamed, others saw it from a totally different perspective.

© Denu Vour Bon

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WEDA 20

RUNNING

“Life is like a race on asphalt, it doesn’t matter what time you finish just don’t fall down. It’s deadly.”

– Denu Vour Bon

It ain’t no more a race.

It is survival…

If you’re not fit,

It is time to pull out.

Starting well ain’t the matter,

For there are those who started and could not finish.

It is a matter of do or death,

Life or health.

Move! Move!

You’re almost falling.

Watch out!

Your heart is soon cut out.

The race is for all,

It is a death race and there’s no excuse.

It ain’t a matter of winning,

Just survive.

That’s important.

We all are running

And this hustle is more intriguing than any aphrodisia,

It is more real than our reality, it is no abstract.

Wait up!

Don’t answer.

Whether slow, steady, fast or furious,

Just maintain your stance,

Don’t loose balance.

Please…

Run, don’t fall, I plead.

©Denu Vour Bon

20/08/2019

WEDA 19

MY THOUGHTS AT MOONLIGHT 2

Twas a thin stretch that served as her bed,

Was she ever going to lay asleep?

She had been buried all day long amidst the crowd of rays,

But now does she have all the stage to fulfill her will.

None had cared about what the day had told of her.

Neither is any concerned to configure the identity of the silhouettes she carried.

She’s just regarded as a means to an end,

The trigger of every moonlight story narrated.

How my sister had been taken in this same regard!

How she had been forgotten, relegated to the background!

Thought as to be good only for the bedroom or the kitchen,

And none is thinking of her better than a sex tag.

Oh sullen moon!

Would I be the more excited than to see you every night?

I just care about myself that’s all.

I, like many others, do not care about the moon’s night…

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 18

MY THOUGHTS AT MOONLIGHT

Can’t I stand out under another’s light?

Can’t I come to limelight by someone else’s might?

Can’t I be bright among the stars,

Even if I’m not a luminous substance?

Is there a cause? Can’t I be coursed?

Must I brainstorm? Can’t I just be the boss?

Isn’t there a One who would have me His light worn?

Let me just be the shadow of the great One.

It is enough. I suppose.

The moon is the brightest at the darkest night,

Yet does she have not her own light,

Outshining the stars; my thoughts at moonlight.

I’m pleased to be the streak of joy in someone’s night,

Throughout the sky.

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 17

BOOMERANG

I’ve read a number of poems tonight,

And I must say y’all have tried.

But I must confess that these poems have not rarely presented Boomerang

In the context of the suspense the ancient ones, sang.

We shouldn’t limit it definitions to the summary of the dictionary,

We should all critically observe that, the rather, and connect with karma relationally.

Few words I have to say about the circle of life events

And I want you to pay discreet attention to the voice of my pen.

Its a one good and objectively relational adage that stated: “what goes around comes around.”

Truth be told, the ancient ones were seriously and distinctively brilliant to have conceived ‘karma’ with which this life is bound.

Their considerations included the laying of foundation from the youth up,

And also the reality of equal and opposite consequences to actions, reactions and decisions our beings are made of.

The boomerang principle intensifies the caution and command of our Lord that we do good and maintain righteousness;

While ‘karma’ stands to exert on us the weight of the statute of God which requires us to be valiant for our course in life, doing our very best.

But I’ve found that our definition of Boomerang have been misconstrued.

We now justify our misdeeds and lay déprimant pressure on others using this truth.

This we do in this simple way of saying the following to others in order to enslave and get them over-burdened:

“…You don’t know what the future holds, the tables might be turned tomorrow and it would be you turn to seek a favor from me,

If you don’t favor me now, how do you expect me to do so when life blesses me and put me in the place of power, authority or position?…”

I tell you, friends, from the beginning, Boomerang was not interpreted so.

©Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 16

IT IS CALLED A BOUT!

Through desire a man, having separated himself, seeketh and intermeddleth with all wisdom.
-Proverbs 18:1

She would sit at a corner

And stay there for hours;

She would come out only once

To eat in the morning hours,

And then she’d go back to her eggs,

After she had stretched her legs,

To sit on them and make them warm,

So will she continue till the number of days be 21.

Yea, for twenty one days,

She’d be literally without food

Neither would she drink but keep the eggs warm

Just to produce chicks that look good.

And when those eggs are hatched

And those little beings come out,

The hen’s status quo would change instantly

Because her chicks are a product of a bout!

Learn from the mother hen;

Who through persistence became abnormal

And just after the bout she produced new beings

And could now live above the normals!

Let abnormality come first!

Should all the time be eating, drinking and chatting?

Be scarce for a period of time

And be persistent in your dream-chasing.

The fact is just that

New things are not brought forth by the multitude,

Rather by the individual

Who goes into solitude!

Learn from mother hen!

Go back to your den,

For it is called a bout

Since new things would come out.

WEDA 15

HE IS COMING

The Savior is just on His way
– Anonymous

Credit: Screenshot @discoverearth on IG

Worried out, stretched wide,

Depressed and oppressed, even losing hope

Is a lady that once had a smile

But she’s now a’glow with mopes.

She looks up, having being defiled;

Her husbands have played her…

Now she wonders if her case would ever be filed

“Would I be able to get a just lawyer?

Who would save me from oppression

And mend the holes created by husbands that left me?

Which man is it would cause emancipation from my corruption?

A man, not a cheat; find him, get us married!”

Her eyes are soaked with tears.

Her children; thirty-six hungry lads,

Are seated by their mother, full of fears;

Is there a man, a father, to gladen their hearts?

What man is it that would stand in the gap?

That would give this kids balanced diet and not again pap?

Or who is that man that would marry this lady

Bearing her burdens, suppressing her woes,

Nor minding she’s had a number of failed marriages?

A man who would eliminate her foes!

Great sighs I sighed when I heard of her story,

When I read through history and saw what she had passed through.

With tears I signed to become part of the jury

That would be in her favour on the day adjourned, bringing her ex-husbands to book.

After a few good times,

I read about Him also and I saw Him coming;

The Man who would deliver lady Nigeria from her past!

His name is Wonderful. No more tears lady, He’s on His way, He is coming!

© ‘Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 14

WE’D BE FREE!

We shouldn’t deceive ourselves that the present governmental system of this one great country of ours is democratically independent. While we are theoretically independent from the British, we are bound to a colonial system we almost cannot understand; yea, it is the dominance of godfathers and our total dependence on their verdicts… One day we’d be free.
Denu Vour Bon

A life of irony.

Frustration’s just at the door.

Living through the moment,

Without one hope of glamour.

Planted in a system

Dissolved in corruption,

The rich is said to also cry

But who cares to know the agonies of the poor.

It all started when the ancient

Stopped being innocent.

When they to degradation gave up our lands

To receive cigarette sticks as gifts from the white men’s hands.

It evolved, turned great, as street locals

Came into the system, becoming our nation’s large stakeholders.

Through it all, we were left to wonder and ponder on

“Who has got a vision and is seeking to obey the nation’s call?”

The stakeholders now stand as elders

Who are not ready to step down from the nation’s loot…

Oh! They nursed up an adage that makes them see afar,

Even beyond what the nation’s nursery see as crooks…

Who would ease us off?

When is the deliverance going to come?

Nigeria is independent my foot!

Not until we send on exile the crooks.

Let them never come back and we’d be free!

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 13

PROBLEM!!!

Some folks find joy in disturbing our line of thoughts and hampering our free flow of ideas with unwanted gists.
– Denu Vour Bon

Credit: Phone Screenshot

One said my department was to play against another,

Another told me of a concert going on in one lecture threatre.

A rumour on Campus; “A 200 level lady got pregnant.”

Well, I believe, that’s their problem!

Gossipers talking of a lecturer who keep on speaking blunders;

Poke- nosing scorners filling the campus with their lies.

In fact, one ran to me looking for his pants,

“Bro” I said, “that is your problem.”

Too many things on my mind that I don’t have time for bullshit.

Too many lines to draw, sincerely I can’t wait for your gist.

Why are you telling me today is worldwide day off for rant?

Please, that ain’t my problem! Yeah! I complain too much though I’m too short;

You touched me in a cold weather and said my body is too hot.

I’m on the internet and you are asking: “Are you searching for grants?”

Dear fellow, Is that your problem?!

My eyes are heavy, I haven’t been sleeping.

Love for first class is making my eyes grow dim.

I want still to read the more than I do but I can’t.

Sis, this is actually my problem!!!

Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 12

IGE: HEAR MY CRY…

Credit: myshorttakes.com

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It does matter what things we conceive of our folks. Our bad minds are very far from understanding the situation of our neighbor because we ain’t God who knows the depth of the thoughts of each person’s heart. When you are opportuned to relate with people, endeavor to be quick to bring yourself in the shoes of the other rather than being judgy, going about nosy. Also be truthful and teach the truth, not superstitions.
– Denu Vour Bon

She had not lived her life yet

But they’ve concluded.

Wóní orúko àmútòrunwáni

They said she was wicked.

Yòrübá bò, wón ki oríkì rè pé

Ìgé àbíbí onísa màléte

Agbónilénu bíi ajara

Omo onígba ìráwò

Ìgè ò rójú, ìyóju bàbà rè lórí

Ìgè ìbá rójú ìyà rè, ìbáti má yòsè síta…

Just because she was born unnormal with her feet out first

Made them conclude she was to be the vilest.

Oh sorrowful being!

Purposed of God to be the most honored amongst her brethren.

He was named Ige

Because of the sorrow and pain his birth caused his mother.

Ige, oh Ige!

Ige, born in sorrow and nicknamed Jabez;

Ige is a victim of circumstance.

But I’m fine. Oh yes, I’m fine.

Though tradition has almost been abolished,

And vain superstitions are being relinquished,

We still see the same mindset in all

They said, and so they always say, “first impression matters” and nothing more.

So we discover that another she is being rendered an outcast

And that a particular he is a victim of circumstance.

Also, I’ve found out that you hold a wrong definition of me, that you’ve concluded that I’m a nobody just because I did not measure up to your standards.

She was Ige by birth.

He became Ige by flight.

You were named Ige from the start,

So am I Ige for something that was not my act.

Let’s get a perfect definition of ourselves

And come to relate with each other and everybody in a love that is not necessarily perfect.

You don’t have to wait for another Ige to cry out

Before you conclude that acceptation is not by sight, circumstance or performance

But by the verdict of love your neighbor as yourself.

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 11

The Truth Haunts Me…

Have you ever been so burdened for the wrong that happens in your environment which is against the truth you’ve believed in?
– Denu Vour Bon

I see so many shallow people around

Who are undeep in their conceptualization of right and wrong.

I myself do some unreasonable things at times

And it pains me that the current trend is about singing our Lord’s song.

Well…

What do I try to communicate?

What difference does it make after all?

All I know is that I’m pained.

I can no longer revel in the activities of my environment,

I can no longer desire your surface fellowship.

I crave for more.

The truth haunts me…

What truth?

The truth that there’s a God who exist

Against the one directional reasoning of atheists;

The truth that God is surprisingly relatable

In opposition to the idea that acknowledging and affirming His existence is not possible;

The truth that God is not mocked, scorned, neither is His truth destroyed

By various false representations and professions of members of the house of the church of satan and the Illuminati, especially those of their progenitors.

Oh! I am haunted.

Haunted by the truthfulness of God’s truth and the verity of the destruction that awaits you.

I am tormented by the reality and certainty of Doom’s day that have been regarded by movie industries as one of many science’s plays.

And I have no power in me to do what I have in mind to do.

But still it haunts.

The Truth had decided to subdue my thoughts.

It had decided to overcome my imaginations,

Now all I see is death, doom and shedding of blood.

It hurts when I see friends, even foes, commit their lives to a course whose end is hell.

The funny deception there is; they, from childhood, have been made to believe in a lie in the disguise of the truth,

And many, being sheeply, lay down their lives for their religion and make haste to be featured in a suicide mission,

Murdering and cutting short their own brilliant futures. I wonder why their religious father’s themselves are not suicide bombers too.

Then one come to me, having mastered the principles of tradition,

Being made a key leader in the most religious sect of that religious division,

And brave himself up to even tell me salvation is by Muhammed.

My heart stops and I cannot fail to wonder what book he read.

Was history corrupted or did he miss out the consistent and frequent plea of Islam’s progenitor that he be not thrown into the fire of hell?

It haunts me more

When beautiful faces are subjected to the thermal conductivity of their black hijab and face covers to depict faithfulness to the vanity of religion.

Then the ghostly truth suppresses me.

And I cannot fail to weep over the wasting of natural resources by adherents of idolatry,

Which they do when they make their countless number of sacrifices to lifeless gods,

Who have no mouths to eat, tongues to taste, ears to listen to ritual proceedings, voices to make comments nor noses to even perceive the aroma of what their followers have brought.

When they themselves are carried by their worshippers,

Being unable to move and inch from where they currently stand.

Oh voice of God in the church!

Is it the Spirit of God that led you to legalize fornication?!

How woeful I feel when I see one receive to himself God’s glory.

You’re the prophet of God indeed you mocker of Christ’s doctrines?!

The Truth that haunts me

Is the truth of salvation

And how the Christian race is of faith and yet of works.

How that I am saved by grace and should still be obedient to the law.

How that my freedom in Christ Jesus do not mean I should be uncultured,

And how that I am God’s servant and yet His son by adoption.

The era of speaking in tongues

And singing spiritual songs.

The epoch of chanting in the Holy Ghost

And paying without understanding the most.

All these is the foundation of the spirituality of this generation

And I still wonder why (even with the rapidly increasing number of fellowships, churches and ministries) we have failed to cub immorality, indecency and gangsterism in our nation.

We have failed.

That’s what the Truth tells me.

I’ve seen that drifting away in the mass

As I see a lady, no less than a prostitute, given the title “apostle of governance.”

Also I wonder where we get so many names and titles:

Evangelist of music, His holiness the Reverend Father and so many others;

May I tell you more that since the beginning it was not so.

These things and a million and one others, the Truth let me know.

Oh that I might be a personification of the Truth.

That I be possessed with this Spirit of Truth that haunts me

The realities of deadness on the altar and gracious spiritual levels this have to offer

Are still part of that which scare me from His (the Truth’s) personality.

And while I runaway,

The unfolding of events

Bring me back to being haunted still…

Some silence.

Some disheveledness.

The Truth haunts me still…

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 10

MEMORIES…

“Watch out!” Tom cried.

“Oh my!” I swerved the car to the right

To deliver us four from an head on collision with a lorry.

I parked and we laughed and cried till the vehicle was out of sight.

We had been talking all the way long

Trying to cover up for the years we had been apart.

I knew the road quite well

But had been so carried out of my track by our chitchat.

“Thank God we weren’t hit,” I said aloud.

“Amen!” The three others echoed.

“Are we to stay here forever?” Jimmy asked.

Entering the car, we zoomed off; like we were programmed by a code.

“We would be riding those bicycles from here” I announced later.

“Why?” That was Donald, the fat guy.

“Because the car wouldn’t go any further” I told him

“And we would ride,” I contined, “well over a mile.”

They stood surprised, then Tom cleared his throat

And said, “Tenney, be specific”

“OK, it is about three miles”

I said, trying to be brief.

They three sighed and I joined

And we all got out our bicycles and backpacks

And raced to the *witch mountain.*

Donald strode along, not catching up, for he was full of fats.

Once there, we stretched to ease the pain

And waited like forever for Donald to arrive

When he did, we laughed, the sun shining radiant beams…

“Wake up son, or you’d miss your flight.” Mommy called

Then I knew reuniting with my friends was just a dream…

WEDA 9

WOULD TO GOD…

Her early morning presence breathed peace into my heart,

She took over my thoughts and resonated hers;

Would to God nature was a female human,

That she was a woman,

Would I have her married off to another man’s house?

The radiance of her fragrance, the peace in those rays,

The perfect bond of elements that connived to lit up earth’s ways;

Would to God she was my sister,

Whether elder or younger,

Would I ever leave her presence or let her vanish off my sight?

Beneath are silhouettes of praise and wonders,

Of soft music, then suspense, lightning and thunders;

Would to God nature were a film show,

Full of life terrors, of horrors and hope,

Would I ever ever blink but to wrote my shady eyes?

Then if nature were me and I was beautiful nature,

If my anxiously hopeless moments trigger men and their pleasure;

Would I had continued radiating, being treated unfair?

I would never plead for humanity before God that He should have mercy;

Would to God I were nature, two third (and more) of whole earth would be in abyss!

Wicked souls they are.

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 8

BIRTHDAYS…

“Without technology, would there still exist birthday wishes?”
– Denu Vour Bon

It’s another day

And the sky is gay,

The tint in the atmosphere

Sets a stage for a band to play.

Something more better

And a level quite higher

Is what this day had brought,

As the Good Lord adds to the year of a brother.

Oh!

Nothing special is happening,

The day is still as same

As other days in the year,

No change of name.

Today is his birthday

And the seventeen year old becomes eighteen,

But I have discovered

That our perception of birthdays is thin.

Dear well wishers read this:

Birthdays are days of letters,

Days you let loved ones know your heart;

These are the days of poetry,

Where with your words and punchlines you take the celebrant through great memories.

You know, birthdays are great days

And days to highly express relational love;

These are also special days,

And days to share folklore, fable or historic moonlight stories with the celebrant gazing to the skies above.

Such days as these, take the celebrant out.

It could be for a walk, a hike, a talk, a bike, a game, for the night or just to chill out.

Yea. Take him or take her to the park,

You could stop by some forest reserve…

Do you know what birthdays are like?

I doubt if you can decipher.

Birthdays are days of music,

Of genres like blues, some reggae and country;

Of walking along the sea shore

And of visiting a harbor.

These are days to go for an adventure

To see great natural sights and to observe some different culture;

And superb days they are

If they are celebrated with a knowledge, a truthful one, of God.

Dear celebrant, now is your turn;

Birthdays are no ordinary days

Neither are they of plays,

They are days to be critical

Because they are seasonal.

Days they are, filled with activities;

Yet are they days of planning and founding of new strategies (call them theories maybe).

This day, you’d sit down and be sober, having in your hands a pen and a paper,

And let your last year unfold in an imaginary screen before your eye.

Then you note your faults, mistakes, setbacks, failures, successes, achievements, and map out new strategies to carry out your newly drafted plan.

This you do early in the morning and just before bedtime.

Do know that this particular day

Should start with God in praise.

Birthdays are days, if I’m permitted,

To be free from work, whether school’s, office’s, or that of business.

It’s a day to journey to a holiday resort,

And a day, a Sabbath unto the Lord.

It’s also a day to read letters

And to revel in the expression of love of your well-wishers.

These are also days for you to love

And to make friends different from those you knew before;

Days of solitary confinement

And yet days of great enjoyment.

Funny days they are,

Days of contrasts.

Birthdays are more than phone calls

That lack truthful expression of emotions,

Neither are they limited to uploading social media statuses

That are deceptive in definitions.

Birthdays are more than changing the name of a group to the celebrant’s,

And don’t mistake expression of love during birthdays for the number of wishes via chats,

For birthdays are more than that!

I hope we now know what a birthday is?

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 7

LAST WORDS OF A SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD

“As I made ready to sail oversea
I saw him whom I once loved and adored…”
-Denu Vour Bon

Credit: WhatsApp Screenshot

A gentle hum

And the breeze blew slightly…

Again the night was still

And a few fading silhouettes at the background.

The stars in the sky graced the occasion

And the clouds were attentive to the meeting the moon had called.

It was a council.

It bursts my brain…

Amidst the calmness;

I could hear the voice of ciga through my nose,

I could see the shadows telling me a prose,

And via the corner of my eye, I could smell the tree’s blossoms.

Then I see a boy,

Deep in the words of his thoughts,

Folded together at the end of a corner.

He was waiting…

Waiting patiently for me…

Waiting for me to fade away…

To fade away from his sight via the sea.

Can I help it?

His eyes are filled with tears,

Shadowed with fears,

For he’d surely miss me.

Gradually is time fading.

No one sees his shivering thoughts

As the cold break through his skin’s dots.

Could I ever leave him?

I need to move on, so it is necessary.

“Wait!” He caught me

“Yes,” I shook a bit as I tried to hide my own fears and tears.

The sea was a wild sea, and it boisterous storms could cost me years.

“Denu…” He shivered and his teeth struck hard atop each other.

“Denu… Denu…” This time he could no longer cover the violence of the storms he’d suffered,

The disaster in his procrastinations,

The scars of his mistakes,

The troubles of the confusion he had faced

And the years he made waste.

He was deeply drowned in the sorrow of his laziness,

Of the pain he strived to put away,

Of the life he wanted to drop but couldn’t,

Of the evil thoughts that almost never stopped attacking.

He could no longer whisper but tears,

Nor could he talk but fears,

Or drop a lovely kiss as he bid me farewell.

All he could do was to stand there shaking

And weeping and fumbling and freezing.

But I waited.

I waited to hear his words,

The last words of this seventeen year old.

Silence…

Silence…

And yet silence.

This boy is wasting my time,

But I ain’t going away.

I’m waiting right here.

I got all the time to wait,

Only that time wouldn’t wait.

Then I looked back at him and told this fading image of me

“Denu, enough of the tears, crying and fears.

I thought you said you believe in God.

Cast off from yourself all these cares,

And talk to me.

The ship is soon to sail…

Tell me what you have to say.

I pray.”

Then the seventeen year old boy looked up at me,

Seems like I’d grown an inch taller than what I used to be,

And he smiled…

A weak, pale, deep smile.

And his tears cried but he didn’t sob.

He told me

“Denu,… Denu,” you could see the austerity in his voice as he tries to be calm.

“Hold on a while longer while I speak.”

“OK, no problem.” I replied.

“Don’t be me when you cross over the sea,

Be a changed person.

Take a clue from the life I’d lived,

Learn serious lessons from it.

Don’t procrastinate

Neither should you give yourself to laziness.

Learn to give priority to things,

Learn to be principled.”

He coughed out some spittle

And hid his face away a while.

Myself couldn’t bare my tears,

As darkness shadowed the night.

“Denu, stop being money conscious

And start being proactive in your thoughts.

Denu, I advice you to leave the childhood corner

And behave as one that is matured.

Be cultured and nurtured

Fashioned according to God’s words.

Take hold of each hour of the day

And let each moment pass with something worth my embrace.”

He smiled now.

“You’re leaving me this night.

Oh! What a wonderful being you are.

Never thought I’d meet a being like you.

I’d known you only for a year,

But you’ve been very open minded

And you hid nothing from me.

Be the best you can be

And make sure to keep a memory of me…

Your little boy.”

He giggled as the last drop of stream full tears walked down his eyes.

I joined the sacredness of the moment and I whispering cried,

“I love you Denu” and said goodbye.

As the new year’s ship roared over the late night storms,

I heard a little squeak, from his mouth via his voice,

Of “goodbye friend, and be good,

Denu loves you too”

GMT+1 2329

07/08/2019

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 6

MY SMALL GOD

“Before you raise suspicious eyebrows, do you care to know that my dad is this small god I’m talking about?”

Challenging were those blessed wonderful times

When dad took in mom as wife,

Prophecies came and that upon that

That their marriage would not last.

Well, thanks be to God now

The marriage is still firmly rooted on Christ the solid ground.

That’s just by the way.

There is an important event occurring today.

Though I came in late to give my report,

That I be forgiven is my last resort.

The event is that of the celebration of a being,

A very special one indeed.

He it is whom I call my small god,

For he was he who showed my to God.

My dad, Mr Emmanuel Olalekan Aduramomi,

The one who has spoken God’s mind to me,

I don’t know how much to thank you for all your care,

Love and affection towards we, your children.

Dad had pitched his tent small

Yet he had accommodated all.

I might had never known God

If dad did not take me to church.

Dad is never the Almighty God,

But God had given him a voice.

Dad is he who runs into debts to sponsor his so many children,

Though he has just a biological soon and three girls.

My dad is my counselor

And he had not failed to be my pastor.

He is my first known father

Before I knew I was given him off my God, the Father.

He is the best motivator I’d ever seen

And he had not failed to be sharp and blunt where needs be.

Daddy, if I were to continue writing,

The world, I don’t if I’m exaggerating,

Would not be able to contain what I have to say

And wish thou on your birthday.

Happy birthday dad.

Long live you and your wife.

Avertir

A Christian is a small god. John 10:34,35

Denu Vour Bon

GMT +1 2238 hours

WEDA 5

Credit: Screenshot on Instagram @purgetraumapoet

HEAR MY CRY

We are buried into these gadgets that there exist no more time for real business
– Denu Vour Bon

Hear my cry oh August,

For this is getting to be a disgust…

There’s no one interested in reading.

Credit: Screenshot on Instagram @purgetraumapoet

Everyone now seem to be a Yahoo boy.

Locked up they are into their phones

That none had considered making more wise inventions than drones…

We are all captive of this,

And we disgust me more when we say our future lie within the path created by the electronic…

Long heard of are the stories of new discoveries,

Of mind blowing theories from people like Albert Einstein and Isaac Newton.

We’ve forgotten that the phone came into being when Graham Bell

Sought for easy and faster to communicate his girl.

Oh Hello!

I ain’t calling you dear reader but

I remember Graham’s girlfriend’s +denote,

Even her very name.

Now also I call your name,

That you do something recurring;

Something more logical and relational than being an administrator on WhatsApp.

Credit: Screenshot on Instagram @purgetraumapoet

Go into the den of your heart and find out what should be your act,

Even your part in this life of ours.

Do something.

Something more than just typing random quotes for us to read everyday;

Something more than posting YouTube videos that I download on vidmate.

Something better

And more relational.

Oh August,

Hear my cry!

Oh let me do something out of the box!

Then, only then, I would be satisfied.

+denote: this is a verb that means to indicate or mark. A name on the other hand is a word that indicates or marks something. In the connect above, denote is used as a noun instead of the verb it is known to be. This was so done to follow the rhythmic flow of the poem. Hence, I propose that English scholars legalize that the word “denote” be used both as a verb and as a noun. If there are any otherwise considerations, please send your thoughts via comments below @ http://www.oluwaferanmidenu.wordpress.com, or send a mail to fehrozy@gmail.com

Thanks.

©Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 4

ENTENTE CORDIALE

http://www.google.com

http://www.google/friendshipgoals.com

“Oh! How technology have taken us out of the reality of this connectedness and deep within our bones, we cry out for an entente – a cordial entente.”
– Denu Vour Bon

Do I have a friend?

Yea, I once had

During the times letters thrived

When by my writing materials one could tell if I were sorrowful or glad.

Those were good times.

Days when you could relate with the mind of your ¹amiga

And he could read your words like he is speaking to your hologram;

Days when love was more relational.

Those were the days when there were no secrets.

Where would you hide them anyways?

The days you could freely express your feelings

When you could easily be saved from going astray.

What’s your weakness now oh friend?

I doubt if anymore I know.

You now have a best friend,

And I don’t feel important anymore.

When she is weak, you charge her up

While you forget that I’m in need of your assistance too.

When she’s down and laid up in coma,

You foam and shout and behave so irrational.

I thought you said I was your friend.

I thought we called ourselves besties and pals.

I thought I nicknamed you ²Kamerad

And came straight to you whenever I was burdened in my heart..

I thought…

But now you’re no more.

You’ve faded from existence in the den of my being.

I consider you to be just another silhouette

In the shadows of my thoughts.

Why?

You ask me why?

You have made a ³bewegungslos to take over my part in you.

You’ve replaced me for something, not someone, else.

Well…

I have replaced you too.

Yea, also with things that don’t breath:

My pen, pencil and my book;

And with the Almighty, the Breath of Life.

He is a friend indeed.

Happy friendship day.

© Denu Vour Bon

Legend

¹amiga: Spanish for friend

²Kamerad: German for friend

³bewegungslos: German for inanimate

WEDA 3

THIS IS NIGERIA… EVERYBODY BE CRIMINAL.

“We excuse ourselves, our faults, our wrongs, our sins under the clause ‘everyone is a thief or criminal,’ thus we deny ourselves of the perfection we could get in our God through Jesus His Son.”

– Denu Vour Bon

Credit: Youtube

This is Nigeria,

Everybody be criminal:

Politicians, religious leaders, pastors

And all of their followers.

Well, this is Nigeria

Where there are no good intentions;

Where the truth have been ruffled,

Confusions in religion.

This is Nigeria,

Where belief is key;

‘Twas here a well-known musician

Sung that everyone is a thief.

Democracy have been corrupted

So we say politics is a dirty game,

But all of these contortions

Are faults under our names.

The constitution had been long stated,

The law is made plain

And yet we go against its truth

And still desire democracy.

It starts from the home,

Then it features in our examination centers.

From here it graduates into students’ association, clubs and societies

And finally into political parties.

These are problems untouched,

Leavens not cut off.

And they grow till we cannot contain anymore.

Lol! Everybody be criminal,

An excuse for justice.

He says that phrase

Only because he’s also guilty.

This is the foundation of deceit

And it won’t ever bring peace.

We excuse our lies for teasing,

Our thefts for “that’s the normal thing.”

We excuse rape for love;

We sell puberty and mensuration pads for money

And in our medical campaigns, we give condoms out for free,

But we’ve forgotten that there are those in the ghettos

Who cannot afford our prices.

We expect a change

And remain unchanged.

We want a united culture,

But remain uncultured.

Worst still it is

When you’re approached with the concerns of your eternity

And you feign being wise claiming no one is perfect.

Dare you mention ‘everybody be criminal?’

How could you?

Wisdom they think they have,

Uncultured, degenerate beings;

Covering their shame and doom,

Excusing their sins.

No other way of change exist than to start from you.

And change from you start by accepting the sacrifice of One that created you,

Who died on the old rugged cross to take away your guilt

And to remove hypocrisy.

His name is Jesus.

He died that Nigeria be delivered from being criminal.

© Denu Vour Bon

http://www.instablog9ja

WEDA 2

“In my own little corner I am the only one that exist in the world. Yea. There are no newborns. No deaths. Nobody exist. All these in the den of my heart.”

– Denu Vour Bon

Credit: Pinterest @MyFavoriteWallpaper

FORGOTTEN…

Oh wow!

What a beauty is she!

See her face glow of radiant beams.

Oh my!

How comely is he!

One cannot stop but revel over the masculinity of his physique.

You know what?

I’m complicated.

Yea, I discovered that no one really cares.

I am the one that is famous for good virtues,

Even if I’m infamous with regards your code of virtues still hear me out;

For an important matter is being discussed,

You don’t want to miss out.

Credit: Pinterest

When each morning I move out of my abode

And into the streets via the ghettos,

I’m like the prince and like the haughty-walking daughter of the king.

Except for some occasional moments of sober reflection

(Which soon pass on till we meet again),

I am on top of the world.

It is I who cheer people up.

It is I who put a smile on your face.

It is I who had brought you out of distress.

It is I who cared for you in sickness.

It is I.

I was there.

But in my den,

In the deep of my thoughts

And on the platform of my mind,

I only exist.

Credit: Pinterest

I seem to be a lost being.

I seem to be headed for nowhere.

I seem to be in the midst of vast voidness.

Ain’t I forgotten?

The tables are turning against me.

And no human being sees it.

Or are they being wicked?

Are they just cruel?

Well, I have concluded that

In this space,

Whatever be it name,

Only me exist as a human being.

Yea. No one else.

Credit: Pinterest

And that’s why I’m a lone ranger,

Fighting through the shadows till dawn.

What is worst still

Than to have the understanding that all others,

Deep within themselves,

Seem to be forgotten?

While I fix myself on Christ’s outstretched arms

Every time I go down this path,

I’ve observed that many have been consumed by these shadows of life.

Actually now, they had forgotten themselves in these shadows;

And while they seem to succeed,

They are lost beings.

“It’s personal,” they’d say;

“Mind your business,” another would pray:

All in a bid to cover the tears of their spirits,

Whilst they remain forgotten…

© Denu Vour Bon

WEDA 1

LAZINESS

Sleepy head wake up!

Credit: Pinterest @deviantart

Just a little more sleep won’t kill

You’re so worked up already.

Ding! Dong!! Ding! Dong!!

There the alarm goes banging;

“It’s time now, oh Junior, to wake up.”

Then would sleep say, “You don’t want to miss this part of your dream’s song.”

It is characteristic of all

For work is against nature.

Just a little more sleep, then a little slumber,

A little folding of arms to sleep in broad daylight.

A little “I’m not doing it now,”

And an iota of “there’s still much time.”

A little more of these little foxes,

Then would the vineyard be turned into a dunghill.

Laziness her name is called,

For she obeys no principle.

She is a seductress, oh my, and a hot beauty,

But underneath her skirts is the bottomless pit.

Oh by means of her whorishness

A man is reduced to a crunch of bread.

Laziness hey name is called

Laziness indeed.

Do not delight in her pleasure,

It is destructive.

It all starts from a little sleep,

Then a little slumber,

Even just a little folding of the arms to sleep.

Beware!

GMT +1 2348 hours

01/08/2019

Denu Vour Bon