Corper Jide a poem by Dayo Skills.

                     

 

  
               

  

   Corper Jide

Seven elders with seven candles pray in doubt even as wax burns down ten fingers from seven candles or more, 
Wishful thinking that God is forgiving but He seems to ignore,
Do you know 20 years ago was the beginning of this end and if you can comprehend you'd know he's now 44,
Cele, Cherubu, igbalode, alfa and few Babas makes up his call log but they've not hit the hammer well like Thor,
 

Sikira fetched water so Bross could watch breasts dance from the wet blouse, 
Ajoke washed dishes for Jide's better view of the bum bum in his cheap rented house, 
They are more girls coming and he keeps cumming into them and promising them to be the future spouse, 
A little cute Jide with no discipline for his device meets teenage love to easily control like a computer mouse,

Gullible 15 to 18 year old smells immature from the sun stricken pinafore and can't blame it on the lotion, 
Serving fatherland with teaching classes but motherland serves him back with missionary motion, 
Plucking flowers that weren't all that blossomed so he actually made some do local abortion,
You know trouble looms when a jealous kind, typical but busty, princess and maids all gets into a commotion,

Now the escapade in white and green with a chalk in hand has come to an end, 
Off to the city for labour market to get a suite and tie fix then settling down with family is the next bend, 
This past road threaded behind often time leaves the engine damaged until one is told to make amend, 
Behold his pain in his little duplex of no issue is the issue of no issue but just himself and wife alone to send,

He claims he was young and foolish in lament but prophecies says restitution or else yawa de, 
Back to the village he had long forgotten but the mothers of bastards didn't forget him so they got to him on a fateful day, 
Who reported to the river goddess or who cried on her deity or who's mother is an old witch..is it Sikira or Sade, 
They only warn the new batch of Orò but for the gods of the land it's an every year soap opera you could title Corper Jide, 

Lie To Me... Say It's All Gonna Be Alright a poem by Dayo Skills.

 

               Lie To Me... Say It's All Gonna Be Alright.

Like the tender words cooed in a lady's lugs to give eargasim, 

Like highschool brilliant lads laughing at a diss joke even though it's sarcasm, 

Like the words of your pastor saying 2020 is our year and we had optimism,

Like giving-in to temptation from seduction of Potiphar's wife so we orgasm,

Like the rain children sung under till it became hurricane that swept off their home,

Like the paid fun from a prostitute that gave infection so he's now checking for remedy on chrome, 

Like the boobs she wishes for but these two small ones are padded with a bra filled with foam, 

Like the expectant mother of 45 to see twins grow having Down Syndrome, 

Like the 29th floor suicidal junkie being consoled by the LAPD before he probably takes a jump,

Like the Yemeni 12 year old girl receiving promises from a peace keeping soldier who loves trump, 

Like the disowned lady who eloped and the lover later found another so she's a dump, 

Like crying inaudibly and drinking tequila till the advising bartender get sick of this grump, 

Like the blood money ritualist always flogged by ghosts to cause an hour insanity, 

Like the queen's princess picked by the priest for sacrifice in next 3 days in the market square vacinity,

Like the sex for marks lecturer whose rape tape just exploded the varsity,

Like the obese girl in love wanting love and begging for love from a hot man from sin city, 

Lie to me.... Say it's all gonna be alright, 

Like losing all your files saved from ten years of hard work on a hard drive of 3 terabyte, 

Like battling cancer but the doc says 7 more days to go or maybe fortnight, 

So would you just Lie To Me...Say It's Gonna Be Alright. 

Bright And Blue a poem by Dayo Skills.

                                    Bright And Blue 

In wisdom and virtue of light - we gotta be grateful than we complain,

Feather and ink, Pen and paper to keypad on space testifies to legends and deeds that's gone down the drain, 

Volcanoes and Dead Sea swallowed much more than scrolls and treasure chests from Pompeii to Bahrain, 

My American friend loved my spirit and needed healing but i brought her close to Yeshua and she's found peace after the Louisiana hurricane, 

The petals opens up at the break of dawn but might close at night to mean it's all matter of time so why cry all night in so much pain, 

Lemme shock you - I've never sipped a Champaign.

Lemme burst your brain - I've never been on a train.

But i still draw breath in health and warm blood flows through my vein.

From crop and live stock to gold and silver to paper and now data exchange shows it's all about value, 

You are made of more and made for more so work on that - grow that and it will sell you - i tell you, 

The sky gets dark too but there are treasures in'em like the stars and moon incase you ain't got no clue, 

We wanna reach for the skies or beyond so find comfort knowing it would still light up by the sun to become bright and blue.

I am Dayo Skills And I Love You! 

Blessings To You 🙏🌿✨