Three Poems by Martins Tomisin

THE BEAUTIFUL ONES

Roused in the heart of night
I sit and stare
Boiling in the rhythm of thought
On this road,
Life lost,
Life saved,
Beauty flies by and by
Pain flies by and by
Hope dashed against stones
Story meshed upon stories

Beforehand,
They pop up like a RAVEN
That fed Elijah meat and bread.
Feeding the myriad of people with wad

Under the gaze of sun,
The throngs aligned on a longish axis
As if money is doled out
To assuage the flared-up sac
There, mopping their perspiring brows
Some pressed in bladder,
Some pressed in the sac
To give ears to the callings
Of the hawkers spicy, relished rice

When the day piggyback its tasty honey,
They fed fat till they ran out of money
The world is there at their feet
Yet, they are sit-tight patriot.
Skinny beggars of dough
Lackey to their school-pundit, Judas Iscariot

Those who paced them,
On the golden throne-seat
Are now confined to a wheelchair
Waiting, on and on
Dancing SHOKI
Painting the street light for gyration

The crabby cries
"Where are the beautiful ones?
Are they yet to be fructified?
Are they still nipping at their
Mother’s nourishing coconut buttermilk?
Or probably still contemplating
On their caravan to the world?"

Oh yes!
The beautiful ones are here
Who play sweet smart in politics?
Who put on the diamond-morning,
Silver sun-smile?
Who paint the sky green and white
Like the Nigeria’s flag?
Who do not give arms to the rustling wind?
He is,
Who surrender to the fear of his Maker


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IN TRIAL TIMES

Paddle! Paddle!! Paddle!!!
Paddle your pirogue down the valley
Even when your moment seems heavy
Spring to life in tasteless tingling time
Only the gritty nibbles with the rhythm
Of time.



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THE BEST OF REST

The hurly – burly wind
That passed by yesterday
Is down the drain
In nothing flat,
A new stripe of book will flicker
Like a virginal carbon-paper
Awaiting to be stricken
In spiffy smirch of streak

The moment lapsed
And the night is at its lull
Copping some z’s
When drapery is drawn over the sun
As if to shoot the next seen of film
Is like snatching dreamer’s dainty dream
Grim reaper can pop up to snatch your consciousness
Or pop up when you are of grey age

No one knows
When it will wheel by
When it will take hold of you
When it will thwack
At the door of your ticker

Grim reaper is that film shot
With characters unidentified
Location not really allocated
Grim reaper is that second coming of Messiah:
Demise is the emblem of life.

To them
That cannot say yes
To the cat-o-nine-tails of life;
The best of repose has punched the clock
Sweetest of rest it is.


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Martins Tomisin Olusola was born on July 12th 1995, to the Martins Family in Lagos State, Nigeria. He is currently a student at Olabisi Onabanjo University, where he is studying English. He has won an award in 'Literary Competition' for the best poetry writer In Olabisi Onabanjo University.


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