Psalms of Olúwalónimí

Numb. Weary.. Torn apart... The only thing I feel is pressure To do. Music. To write. Wativities. But I feel nothing...no muse... The Utopia of NYSC has come to an end. Suddenly so.. So everyone one pops the question...what next? I know the next thing is you; you've been the only option. Charting the course of my life. Still... My mind struggles with my heart Logic. Reasoning. Vulnerability is yet the toughest of this path, But isn't that the one way to your purpose; bodylife... I'm tired, really.. I've come to the end of me My strength fails, utterly. I need you more than ever.. Cos no turning back.. This is life. This is love. The path to you. Help!!!!!!! Please lead me through. Give me your strength. Make my life yours. Make my living count..... Help from above. Help!!!!!!!

Darling Eckman My head constantly spin words for you Yet I didn't find the strength to put down Till now... Your beauty confuses me I see so much beauty But I don't trust you; I don't trust the source I see someone who coulda hit something deep... I see a 'mis-charted' course. I may be wrong...but that's what I see. I see a flickering light under dross.. If only you'd give a way.. My heart breaks... I see how my emotions would have manifested like a beast, wild and fiery But for strength from past lessons. you have my love and prayers. And yes I'd terribly miss you..

Sometimes.. My heart breaks.. At how humans do not recognise the truth. My tears break... At how a disguised 'false' is accorded all the applause and 'truth' is overlooked. My heart breaks... My being breaks... My heart sinks... And then become heavy. I disperse the weight with tears. I realise I've been trying too hard.. To show. To love. To keep. Sometimes I fear that the pool may not even exist; who will relate with this truth? I get confused... But why should I? He came to his own and was rejected. He walked with them, yet they didn't know. He dwelt among them yet there was nothing to show for it. So, what's the difference? He draws. He changes. Basic. Everyday I'm learning.. That we can have flashes or flickers of truth, We can catch brain waves; we can have momentary revelations; we can know about Him, but until He breaks us, we do not know Him!

Write a story "Dami says'... A tale of hyoowandai. I can't tell what the problem was for sure, writers block? Inertia? Lack of concentration or better put unseriosness? Lono. One thing I know though, something always come up. Don't read that as 'just something'- these are things that are equally important and demanding. Actually they pass for a genuine excuse. I can highlight: meetings, Nysc camp, chores, foggy mind..... So you see, I've got excuses. However, what happens to the tale? Is it less important? I bet not! So Dami and I would discuss on several occasions, and I would stutter "Dami I don't really know what you have asked me to do...or maybe that's not it, things just come up, words are not forming......yada yada On one of such days, in the midst of our discussion and it would seem like my mind was seeing it, Florence called "Damilola please help me with the vegetables" I go to the kitchen, carrying thoughts from...

Would you ride? If I let you in If I put away the cloak And show you the vilest of me Would you? Would you ride If you touch my frailty And behold my flaws? Would you ride if I bare my heart And break yours? Would you still wanna take a ride? If I tell you how I think what I think .. Can you stand the process of the gold you see? Or better yet can you pay the price? What if I yell what if I freak out What if I reach out for what you'd never imagine? Would you ride? Have you taken a second thought that I may not be exactly what you see?

I learnt different languages of love From the one who'd raise an eyebrow at every finger I lift, and demand for an account To the one who'd sit to watch, even when his heart breaks at my folly; the one who always waits for me to see. The one who'd watch me fall but always lend a hand to lift me up The one who allow me to grope in finding my way, yet stealthily following to make sure I don't miss my way The one who is ever ready to hear The one who smacks me to show depth of love The one who prays for me in the closet yet don't even make a face with me in public....

I'm the girl you waved at. The distance you are yet to cover. I'm the puzzle you concluded you couldn't put together even when you never dared to look closely. I'm the book on the shelf, you never got around to opening. I'm the light you put a cloak on, with the accusation of shining too bright. I'm the child whose whimper you ignore. The voice who kept calling but fell on deaf ears. The one you think is too true to be true. I'm the one you need, not the one you want; the one you waved at.