Alexander Adewole

Biography: I am a poet of many worths An amorous quest for my heights Of many who care to listen to my thoughts I am a poet of many desires

Alexander Adewole's Profile

Alexander Adewole
Thursday 21 March 2024


My Mama

Who kept me in her belly for nine months

Making sure all is well with me in the other realm

Her subtle touch at times make me tickle to jump out

But she maintained emotional balance to nurture my coming

I have taken a bellywise for her pains and love

I have looked up to the heavens for her safety

My thoughts are heavy and simple when i looked back

How you single handedly transformed the boy into a man

Into a full grown man of the society.

Where life appears opposite.


Alexander Adewole
Monday 26 July 2021


My love
If tomorrow is judgement day
And I stand before God
And the Lord ask me
What did I do with my life
I would say I spent it with you.



Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 30 June 2021


Look yonder above the sun
The time ticked to threshold
All nature returning back home
To reset mortal lucid dreams...


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 30 June 2021



Of short words keep many away
Those who fret with her beauty
Caressing the inner feelings of fate not Yet decided by her.
The looks were inviting like Nectar Magneting the bees
Give her Quintillian poems to read
Give her Shakespeare to mime
Read to her ears Wole Soyinka's
Maybe time and tide will tell the very Moment of her prime
As twilight imperceptible sets in
To woo her once again
Into becoming a woman of worth
Telling us the story of her life
In transversed mirror


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 29 June 2021



Dear Unknown Lady,

You came into his life like a brief candle and left him broken in pieces like a China plate smashed on the ground.
Was your action right or wrong?
What happened to your first love? What went wrong that could not be amended?
Love is a beautiful thing. A feeling that knows no bounds. A 22 years old lady can fall for a 34 year old man so far both love each other. But why taking counsel from wrong friends? Why believing lies peddling around to make you feel bad towards him. Is it a feeling of guilt of love or a practice of hide and seek? My lady, they have deceived you. They have infuse rejection into your life so much that when you see good thing you reject.
You came into his life when he needed u most. The feelings were mutual. The calls and messages were blissed with heaven grace. Your voice were like Angel Gabriel relaying message to Mary. But why did u leave him dejected? Why did you break his heart with heavy club?
That man you left broken is someone son. That man you left heart shattered is someone brother. Are you happy now? Have you been given the medal and award for tearing apart that man's heart?
A man heart is fragile when it comes to issues of love. But it takes time to heal that trauma you have caused.

But wait!

Didn't you talk together yesterday in school? Didn't he mention this situation to you?
But you promised such would never happened, yet it's happening now.
It's happening right in front of them.
My dear Unknown lady, know fully well that the world is a small world. We shall one day meet either on this earth or in heaven.


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 29 June 2021



Was I blind when I said I care for you?
Keeping all odds for it to work out well
Between you and me all alone in the world
Filled with deceits and artificiality

Was I blind when I said I love you?
Not minding the age differences
Nor what people will say to us.
My heart longs for you always
And I have tasted lust not love.

Was I blind when I said I will die for you?
Making you my first bucket list
Trying hard to keep the feelings stronger day by day
But yours the killing heart

Let me be alone
From your faked deceitful love
Let me run away
From your sharp lies
Let me fly away
Like a bird and be free
Free from you and your thoughts
Oh if I were a bird
And I could fly
Fly away to an unknown place
Never to come across you anymore
Never to see your face again
How sweet would thou be
With your memory erased


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 29 June 2021



I searched from the four corners of the World for a beauty
I did find none
I came to Africa I searched the 54 nations
I did find none.
I came to Nigeria, limiting my search
From the North, no one see beauty.
I then travel down South
But the South was divided:
East I went I found none
South I trode I found none
My hope seemed lost.
Then, someone bellowed loud
Go West!
I stood still like a transfixed insect ready for dissecting.
Thinking of the six states.
Then, like a bolt from the sky
I found myself in Ede
Where the three footpaths meet:
One leading to Oshogbo
The other to Ede
And the third to Iwo.
My instinct played a part in my quest
I trode to Iwo, asking many
About beauty, asking them about Ewa
But they all point to one direction
I took the compass and arrived
Safely at Adewole's compound.
And lo and behold BEAUTY was standing right beside me.
Then, I fainted.


Alexander Adewole
Sunday 13 June 2021



He came and left this earth alone
Coming from a humble home
To whom many wished to be blest
His words were softer than cheese
His human nature were products of peace.
You could see them in plain mirror
As providence designs him perfect for her
The vows was the talk of the village
Then, it came...
The murky test pride the people
Hating him to mortal enviously
From his kinsmen who longed
Likened him to Julius Cesar
Who thrice a time offered him
A kingly robe
Upon his mandate he did reject
Again and again.
But, what offence cause he to
Be sent to eternity?
That mortal soul do Brutus sent
To please his people!
The temple veil is torn upon her Breast
Her grieve is enough to wake Him
From the saracened slumber caused by his haters
But life itself isn't balance.
His people curse him
They spit on his grave
And buried him without a coffin

Then, the aftermath.
The people gathered in the lawn
Seeking to banish the woman
And the only child.
They took council upon council
Finding ways to debase the wife
But their dark mission collapsed
Like a pack of cards.
Are the people's will.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Saturday 12 June 2021


I wanted to write you a letter my friend
Letter of hopes unmasked to our biddings
Stating how fake and pure our leaders are
How we waited for so long for changes to come
But each time I picked up my pen to write you, Another saviour is unmasked to my face.

I wanted to write you a letter my friend
Letter written with golden pen signifying promises
These promissory promises made everyday
To the itching ears of the people
Wanting succour from our politicians.
But each time I picked up my pen to write, Another saviour is unmasked to my face.

I wanted to write you a letter my friend
A letter to be written in pains and groaning
Seeing the sharp separation
Between you and me
Between North and South
Disliking each other often sadden me out
But each time I picked up my pen to write you Another saviour is unmasked to my face.

I wanted to write you a letter my friend
Letter that would speak hopes to the Almajiris in the North
Down to the market women of Eleme in the South
We are not slaves to our father land
Neither do we sell slaves.
But each time I picked up my pen to write, Another saviour is unmasked to my face.

I wanted to write you a letter my friend
A letter that speaks for itself
A letter written by our founding fathers
And kept for generation yet unborn
The letter speaks for oneness
The letter adorns togetherness
The letter preaches unity.
This letter bears SSD to all Nigerians
But each time I picked up my pen to write, Another saviour is unmasked to my face.

I wanted to write you a letter my friend
But why, oh why
I, the hopelessness cannot write
And you, the helplessness cannot read.


Alexander Adewole
Friday 11 June 2021


Lay bare like goblet wine
Handled by the holiest saint
To which the twelve sipped
And honoured by the master stroke.

Shining object of honour
Where truth and life dwells
In the sacred place of worship
Dishing out truth and joy

The beam of light shines neons
Within the eleventh hour time
Through the bond that follows
The Commission testament

Shining like the truth
In the midst of turmoil
Sparkling like the way
In the midst of confusion.

Now, the hope lay fallow
Men clutching the innate desire
The way we lost the Chalice
And seek Him in the churches.

But can never be the truth
Nor be the bond of trinity
But a fragments of hope
Concocted by man's insoluble mind.

The wall built between us
Drives our Paul away forever
And tell us to water Apollo.
But we are one, I suppose.

Gallant Soldiers of Christ
Hold on unto this practice
To edify yourself in him
But we drifted from the teachings

Time and again
The beam went dim
And men groped in the dark
In search of Him again.

Looking for the sparkling way
And shining truth
Through chalice,
Object of edification.

Poem composed by the duo of
Adewole Alexander and Olamide Odediran


Alexander Adewole
Friday 11 June 2021


a weeping joy children holding each other like the ripest promegranates.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Thursday 20 May 2021


Today, the dice is cast.
The time tickled
The pot stowed
The last finger licked.
And no one yet adorned my breast

The evenings are closer to darkness
The roosters are back home
The last coin spent
And no one yet burned my desires

The dews are gone
The trees are still
The last kiss stolen
And I am here to try again.


Alexander Adewole
Saturday 22 May 2021


Troubadour I grieved out my lost
pangs of my soul to nature look
like humanoid trance in deep burst of brooks
to the entire range of people rust
and we have lost the glory, when we hate those we are meant to love
disliking even the single strand of nature calls
we praise with low cost
called the weaklings to an unwritten book
to will all to nature flocks
as if though we prepare the hook
that plunges people's love to some sorts
probing deepest cast off the thickest post
like a stutterer promising hopes that lost
in vain caught,

Then, I mopped up daisies to display all
my nature desires flocking around the cook
who beligned retarded self detached
to the acceptance of nature lust


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 19 May 2021


They groped through the landlord house
Prickled the innocent feet while moaning
The trap placed upon them failed
They rejoiced serrating everywhere
As if they were landlords.
Each tenant manned its escape routes
Laughing out the misdeeds in darkness
When they taste food not earned
Food not meant for them.

Soon, they gathered a council to rejoice more
As one mistakenly said:
" The Landlord is seemed dead to me".
Copulation party rants the house
The young tenants chased one and another
The rest scouted and scattered the house in search of foods.
The squirting noises continue UNTIL....
There was light.


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 19 May 2021


Life wreathes itself naked
Upon my breasted prime.
I choose to recluse my thoughts away
Thro nature sweetest rythmns
Where I can sing along_
Alone with the hummingbirds
Giggles every words even though

Why thou choose to recluse?

No, I choose not to hums.
Neither my faith leads me astray
His words are murky test to many
The preacher's statement is sterile
And the people offered no practice to it
I choose to sing along_
Alone in the hermit
Where life wreathes itself naked
Upon my breasted spirit.


Alexander Adewole
Thursday 15 April 2021

When I Am No More

When I am no more friends
Do not grow tears in your eyes for my sake
Lest you see no more.

When I am no more, friends
Do not be bereaved in pains and in mourns
As life seemed like a stage
And we are called to play our parts in this Earth.
The Earth our market.

When I am no more, friends
Do not let the children wail for my departure
But bid my journey well
Friends, I tell you they shed their own tears.

When I am no more friends
Do not let the mothers put on black veils
Nor have their black hairs shaved
Let they have no more veils and hairs.

When I am no more friends
Do not let them sing dirge in the wake keep
Such is a reminder of me
Do not the sexton tolled the knell
To remind those I have loved so dearly
Nor litanies be chanted at my side
But towed me to meet Him.
Read my favourite psalm
As my last prayer
To which I shall hear aloud in the subtle
Bossom of the Lord.

Lest I warn again!
Do not let them adorn my grave with flowers
For it withereds in heavenly bliss

Inscribed this on my grave stone if there is any:
"Good friends for Jesus's sake forbear
To dig dust enclosed here
Blessed be the man that spears these stones
And cursed be he that moves my bones".


Alexander Adewole
Sunday 27 October 2019

The Coin

I have no Ferrari but I have a bicycle
I have no degree but I have words
I have no mobile phone but I have a pen
I have no money but I have a coin
If I toss the coin, it gives me head or tail
Head means friendship, tail means love.
Should I toss the coin?


Alexander Adewole
Monday 10 June 2019


Your stature duro gidigba
Like the tall Olumo rock
I could hear your roaring thunderous shouts
As you emerge from the dense forest
Of a thousand deamons.
You who pecked the dazed children
As you cluster the straw of men's pride
Then, poignantly revived the barren women
From their long weeping joy
Should we praise you for your deeds
And spread our mats to tread upon?
Should we clap our hands
To show ourselves the true you?
We tried to stow the last pot
To host you when you come again
Akalamagbo ki npodunje laisoro ile.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 29 May 2019

An End of You

Your story was written on a tabloid
For many who passed this earth -bound
Running through a canvas painting
To will the treasures the murky test
Of primrose path that fades in the night.
Life and death foes bound by the same
And we have become a mouse trap
In the cold hand of death.
The man died in vain -
Telling us your beautiful houses are nothing
Telling us the fleet of cars unused
Your niceties small talks at meetings gone
Your mistresses of peroxide blonde vanished
Telling us tales of woes and pleasures
Against the bidders of their mother's pride.
Your power and fame in the morgue
Your pancake sterilized skin are food for the maggots
And your memoirs a history waste bin
That has not been read for years.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 29 May 2019



Flicks Morrison died on Monday 
And on Tuesday he told his friend
To bury him on Wednesday 
But each Wednesday rain fell
And he remained unburied for centuries. 

By Adewole Alexander 


Alexander Adewole
Saturday 8 June 2019

Hate Me Not

Come, oh my friend!
To test our time with love
The long friendly betenoire
Seeped out between seeded time
Here and time there.
Now they will call you out for me.
But your mortal heart dejects
And swallowed this bitter pills
That our lives doomed for war.
Out there you muttered
And laughed to this taste
Of life in a solitary confinement
Guarded nights and days.
But you...
I suppose could set liberty
At ease and peace
The treading lives of bugs
Are fasting and feasting
And I hear you sing litanies in the pew
To the few.
Must I weep for liberty?
Crying like the abikus!
A crooked finger pointed at me.

"You're to decide your faith ".

Freedom could not cry out loud
Neither do I want to cry out.
Far into deep trance
I decided once and again
But halfway Dante's dreams
Blindfold my decision.
Will you hear the dreams?

"A Revered stood at the pulpit preaching
forgiveness to no one else but you! ".

But what my mind crest over you
Could be that dreams being fulfilled.
An octopus reshaping our faces
I shall live in this solitary confinement
For you but not your will
To tread over eight pus
For once death and suffering
Being born twice
Time, but over time in this time
Our people shall laugh with mouths ajar
But let's take the Revered's seat
In the church for I do not mock
So the Holy ones to be guilty.


Alexander Adewole
Saturday 18 May 2019

The Renegade

Panatella on his broad mouth
Oxonian accent locution flushing out hard
Like a rushing Brooks.
From crown to the arch
He was dressed
In a civilized suit.
His circumlocution were punctuated with
Apt witty
You could see it
When he talked
Like those Europeans.
His gesticulations go with the mouth
But our G Man
The chubby African man came from this
Dark continent.
On one corner
He dashed into a canteen
Well known in the country.
The man sat down
And ordered his meal.


The steward boy waited patiently
Like an eagle prying a prey.


The steward boy
One of those local accent replied:
"Oyinbo man I don hear".


"Oh yes! "


The boy smile upon which he muttered :
"We sell amala, foo-foo, eba, towu shinkafa, and pounded yam".
Our G Man looked hurt
And with sotto voce, he said,


The gentle steward boy said"
"I think the last has just been bought
Please check the next canteen over there".

Our G Man
In his stentorian voice said:
He went away with a big shame.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Monday 13 May 2019

Renegade Of June 12

They came with a relish of revival
Battered our hopes with weaponry
And the people watched them amidst tears
Like a speechless cattle led to be killed.

The savor soon lost its flavour
Where tantalizing expectations punctured
By their sporadic PRC programs
Armed with basket promises, odd
Like their stenched khaki uniform

The jingle bells were alarmed
Crutches the pedestrian unconsciously
To their awaiting curiosity.
Who siren called off our road
Leading a despotic machine knight
To their selfish mission....

You who annulled their mission
Also armed their saviour
But the chronic patient ailments
Lay with the thoughts... June 12.

The streets thronged with stones
Through clashes of grenades
That caught our ethnic walls
And by that words they slaughtered
Many to the prime graves.

Hear, oh king knight of night.
The baby cries
Through their Mother's thoughts
Hostage their fathers in house insoucince arrest
Like a caged monkey for a circus.

And people, oh our people poised artlessly:
The chanting brouhaha of rioted forces
The fleeting flibbertigibbet gossips
The rumble dance of fugue melody
The grumpy drops of local howitzer
The guffaw hoarse of arrest

Sunk in thoughts for hundred awhile
Like a matted scar on an open wound
Their howdah insignia composure
Poisoned their tens of thousands
And with truncheon and koboko
They chased many to the ocean with scarlet

By Adewole Alexander

©️ 1995
This poem was composed during the regime of General Abacha


Alexander Adewole
Monday 13 May 2019


I can hear you call from a cypress
You imp spirit.
The hoodoo of this season
Caught your requisition desired
From this sublimity comings and goings.
The stupor caused for her sorrow
Still, desires your awaiting comings
Into this awaiting house.
Sienna will be moulded to discourage your goings
Sibyl will be consulted in this your coming
For the Styx are itching your spirit body.
Come, oh come to her
Pains of the notched
Pains of the subfusc cicatrice scars
Piercing through your body
Like a needle hemming stitch
Saddened her out,
But your coming mourned the cold tears
From their bulges eyes.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Monday 20 May 2019

Ode To A Beauty

Posed her portrait frame still life
Charming the desire of her simple living
Over the pantheon nature of the goddess
She has charmed nature beauty.

How long will I confess it to the world?
A paragon blissful dove she was named
To all men of noble desire for beauty
My heart gladdens with joy.

Her image blindfolded my visions
And she could only smiles out a price
The deluge of hopes overturned nature
And I have crafted out her portrait still
To all nature admirers.

The artist says it all.
Our cupist beauty is a crafted one
We should admire what nature brings
And she recreated this art so wondrous to behold.

My heart burn without glow to attract
Yet the earthly price approaching with rage
To sweep the maggots in their six feet
As if it bemoans our beauty eternally
But the still life artist has just recreated us

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 7 May 2019

Noises Of The River

Oh, all you maiden listen
Truer love comes from the mind
The deepest in the heart of men
But when the love waxed in its glory
It were like noises of the river.

First love wears it own garment
And men in their sweetest talks lure you
Promised you heaven and earth treasures
Their coated mouths twist your feeble mind
And you lost your sense of thoughts.

False love wears its own garment, too
I once had a love who promised everything
Everything in the world treasure
Oh, love how sweet are you at my bossom
But it soon waxed and waxed and waxed.

Oh, maiden let your pride consume you
Never picked a word from their mouths
They were hollow promises made in vain
Never you listen to their faked pleas
They were nothing in them but full of lies.

Oh, if I were a bird
And I could fly, fly away
To listen when they'd said they love you
And I could tell, tell them to their faces
They'd lied, they'd lied

Oh, all you maiden listen
Truer love comes from the mind
The deepest in the heart of men
But when the love waxed in its glory
It were like noises of the river.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Friday 26 April 2019

Jagaban Borgu


They say you are a master of politics
They say you a hero of power
They say you are Asiwaju of Yoruba Land,
They say you breed politicians from nowhere,
If all these talks are true
Let haters jump into the lagoon
Or, clutch a transformer.
I have never known you Jagaban
I have never met you in person
But your deeds speak more than words
And I have cleansed my breasts
To nurture young ones
To follow your dreams step.
Jagaban Borgu,

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Friday 26 April 2019

The Interment

Shallow excavation up three feet
Peered from nowhere
Of days numbered in his arse
Useless, grizzled, grotty and gone
Not here meant for salvation, oh man!

Drop Dead! Drop Dead!!

Confiscated casket old and wretched
Odd, primitive and dirty
Nailed by naive wood carver
No pigmentation to his like
And the undertakers a group void
Of empathy and sympathy
Danced merrily with brisk walked
Like a running Brooks.
So, the day was it
The sky roared with anxious fall
And people not mourners murmured instead of dirge
A largo filled their guffaw mouths
Fluctuating rippling songs
And gasping for hoarsed laughs.
So shallow was he lay In his eternity home Litanies and dirge sung from the hallows
He died and buried via the treacherous world.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 24 April 2019


Child: Oh mother weep not me
           The airy spirit child
           For in my kindred spirits
           There are many to come
           Then, why do you seek me?
           Seek me in weeping house.

Mother: Oh child, many seasons this time
             I weep for you to come
             For many of your kinds to stay
             But yours, yours the killing heart.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Friday 26 April 2019

The Bargain For Life

The Wretched
He used to sit at the front row of the pew
He is the choirmaster.
The knell never tolled
Litanies sung in the bar
Psalms murmured in ripples piece
Mourners in mixed shades Faces of guffawing smiling friends
And his eternity box bear no cross
No colouring.
And carved by the barmen
He died in the cathedral
And buried in the bar.

The Wealthy
He used to sit in the front row of the bar
He is the chief drinkard
The knell tolled intermittently
Litanies mourned in full cry
Mourners in black shades Faces of sobriety and sad friends
And his eternity golden ocher box bear cross
A golden colour box
And carved by the cathedral.
He died in the bar
And buried in the cathedral.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 24 April 2019

The Locked Country

Let us tell ourselves the truth.
Am I supposed to be a Nigerian
When poverty stared gauntly in my face
The hollow face filled with oppression and depression
In a nation with vast ocean of wealth
Still, the plague of hunger and abject penury
Of ages and generation to come

Am I supposed to be a Nigerian
When the politicians empty our common treasury
Money meant for the good of all
Just a few greedy excited electron
Locked our common good.
To their selfish aggravatisement and taste.

Am I supposed to be a Nigerian?
To have come face to face with pang of death And our desires wobble away
Like the aimless bubbles trotting.

Am I supposed to be a Nigerian?
When our men in khaki uniform
Dismembered us with an untrained rifle
These men trained to keep us safe
Secured from the raven-bound human species.

Am I supposed to be a Nigerian?
Am I?
After the sporadic thronged of servitude on my father's land.
Am I supposed to be a Nigerian?
I humbly ask you.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Monday 22 May 2023

The Black Woman

The glossy silky of your black beautiful skin
Radiants gallantly into our sulken eyes
Like a gazelle pearl of Udama tree
Many wished to touch.
Your firm breasts like Obucha seeds
Are like amorous doped of a man
Caressing the uncovered scene of your skin
Your waist moves and dangles like the display
Bottle-Like corks of Saworiode.
The twisting and rolling of your inviting eyes
Like a night owl hidden near the Okpilla tree
Could sniff the amorous approach of men towards you.
And we have all doped bellywise of this skin
This tasteful chimmey fossil like blackness
That, though between us a division gulped out
For who to bell the cat now.
But I could not tell in all honesty
Why I am afraid
Why we are afraid
Afraid of this desire to kiss and touch your breasts
To touch and suck these two tender glossy silky black breasts of yours.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 19 March 2019


Oh Ogori the trenches civilization hold
Poured out into our knowledge foretold
Through the Omoneye high hills surrounding us
And men stretching the vital force
Do we cross the rubicon cord sold
Because our Agada hills appear in gold?
Love thy neighbor in their faces
For we have come in snatches and in phases
Through the sermon preached in the crosses
And that shall not utter in mouth curses
For forrunes hold itself in full houses
And our women shall wear them in blouses
Oh Ogori come out and tarry us from the cold
And forbear shall smile and appear in bold.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 19 March 2019


I saw a white ball
Sliced across the sky
In the morning
The dews were dropping
To hang loosely an heart shape.

I saw a yellow ball
Hidden across the sky
In the evening
The dews were gone
To hang loosely an arrow piercing the heart.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 20 March 2019

Humble The Poet

Never was the words a of poet
Stirred the heart of a doped man
Wreathed hirsute shadowing laughs
Of the world where words were wars
Of holiness of the scented gall.

Never was the heart of a poet
Caressed the soul idol of broken heart
Taken from nature to eternity
Tolled in the dawn of the world
Where darkness had its ways
In the far end of the road.

Never was the love a poet
So damned to our drinking lobes
A stuttering stricken peered in
The nude dark uncovered our
Place of hearthrob
That we should see the arrow of destruction of our warm heart.

Never was the touch of a poet
So cold in his hands that we should feel
The stirred words in their hearts
So, was the poet right to say these
These wreathes words copulated in the tenderness
Of our minds.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 19 March 2019

The Path

There were two paths
Gladly shone upon her face
One to nature
One to eternity
And upon my doubts where to go
There was death.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 13 March 2019

The Wretched Of The Earth

Let the tossed of the lillies plunged their crimson
To their shameless fancy faces
That to pocket thirty silver coins is a pride
And asked our mouths to seal the truth.

They are the wretched of the earth
They that swim money to the lees
The MPs who tossed white lillies in red garments.

Let the learned parrots defend their lots
To their fancy faceless innocence
That the moot is their house of pride
And asked the people to mute no words
When we have asked where is your learned pride?

They are the wretched of the earth
Thay that stand between truth and lies
The learned parrot in the courts.

Let the demigod becomes their gods
To their faked manifestoes
That politics is their skill
And asked the people to go to hell
When we have asked where are your flowing milk of words?

They are the wretched of the earth
They that take ambitious towards heaven
They that build castle in the air
The alagbadas who come to us with many mouths.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Thursday 14 March 2019


The night slept calm, waiting
Waiting patiently to hear the sound
Of His coming,of His nativity
To many that wished to be found.

We waited in the night endlessly
Singing hymns from the psalms
Till we found our tongue dryly
Still, we remained calm

Darkness, the mother of evil was upon our sight
The weather was discouraging
At times there were sounds in us to fight
But our patients still kept us waiting

Fear threatened to fret us
From the impaired seething heart
To which we cannot afford to lose
After a long patient wait on this vain earth

We persisted to wait still
Consoling our discontentment hopefully
Our persons drilled to the fill
Weakened our thoughts solemnly

Soon, our sleep was doped in the wait
By the Sceptre of an ethereal
Flashing white garments on our faith
And we doubt not the present real.

Then, we watched the heaven stars shone
Sparked neon in the sky
Like the diamond cone glittery and pinery
Reaching above the world so high.

So, we brought the story to the homely
To those who care to listen
To those who are comely
Who are spirit thirsty with passion hasten

Now the cross lay upon our shoulders
And we are now walls to each other
In our new found faith
Created in us a new division
Between then and now.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 13 March 2019


I hear the shout from afar

That an old dawn is on threshold

To front the old grey members away

Into the new coming dispensation


Alexander Adewole
Wednesday 13 March 2019


I dreamt I saw you among the dozen

Standing above the threshold of holy realms

Like a lost wanderer in foreign land

To seek divided thoughts to move

Held you a piece in thirty piece of silver

Of the price of the elders.

Poignant, though your heart blinked unknowingly

Between Scylla and Charybdis

And so you took council upon him.

Between now and then, and hither and thither

Upon which the master was sell down the river

By you whom I saw in my dream.

Now standing beyond the threshold of destruction

But do not shed white tears now

Do not shed them now as men do

Into our opening hearts.

Neither thorn of crowns into our hands

Nor blood happiness it seems

For we live as the days passed as whited sepulcher.


Alexander Adewole
Friday 23 November 2018


Africa, my Africa
The beautiful home of the black race
The gazelle bliss of the tropics
The magnificent masterpiece of Victoria Falls
The pride of the Obudu Efiks

I greet you my mother Africa
Where the black panther resides
Where our maestro homes housed our kindreds
Africa, my Africa
I greet you from the deepest honesty of my creed
From the belated ruins of the colonizers
You still stand GIDIMGBA!!!
I watched you nursing your ill wounds
The serrating scars implanted from them.
Yet, yours strength like Olumo rock
Moved not the ill treatment meted to you
In secret mission to wipe you out.
Africa, my Africa
The dawn of hope is here.
Your children are back
From the seas accross other side.
And we shall stay and nurture you through
This trying times.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Thursday 8 November 2018


They came with promises, unfettered promise
Cascading down our rivers of hope and pleasure
When lies like Oselu muttered coated words
Yet we concur and question not.
They built hope on thin air and our people
Oh the people grope around them like a nectar with million bees.
And the common man beg for survival.
Shall we continue play the fool?
Shall we seat and watch our commonwealth stolen?
We have grown walls of patience to the brim
The gush of hatred sterilized
The opaque road reignited
We have refused to be fooled again
And the waiting for his second coming
To tell us in our faces the unfettered promises once again
The promise tettered to his faked manisfestoes.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 6 November 2018


Evening is closed upon me
Numbness stalked in the quest
As colleen flashed piquant libido
Passed in the cackle's cries within
To the call of the rooster crow
Flapping its wings in attention call
To mate, and watched.
We, the nebulus hiding faces, hidden unseen
In habilitation shrouds
Are watchers to this game, too.
Though, evenings watched the passing dreams
Impaired manhood, dead mine sir!
Lessen aphrodisiac to nymphet's offer
Odd, still passing feelings entwained
And there I stood still in my watch
To this proud feather flapped wings
To the glorious entrance
But her soft subtle touch
Like the Siberian goddess, dead mine.
Dead to the glummed of the inate feelings.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Tuesday 6 November 2018


And the Minister arrived
Sweating profusely in his high pitched euphony agbada
Flutter in and out
As ethereal figure of an angel.
But he was not deterred still
The wet dripping spectacle
The meeting began in sotto-voce to the minister.
He watched in stupefied disbelieve the question...
" Name a means of transportation".
A little fellow had said to him
The Minister halted, memory escaped back to its cage.
He fluttered and fluckered his broad eyes
Like a stammerer taking by surprise.
" A means of transportation, please".
Someone jest back in somewhat oxonian accent locution.
Down in his passport
He was the Minister of transportation
Flight was his favourite
Oxbridge material he had claimed.
He propped his chin
Searching the means of transportation.
The children watched astounded
The women looked flabbergasted
The men were paralysed with awe
The Minister nodded
And there was no clue.Ugh!!!
Someone made a noise of an automobile
To give him a clue.
" Zoom...Zoom...Zoom"
Our Minister was dumbfounded
" How did you make it to the high school?"
One fellow asked him.
He smiles with a start, then muttered:
"Good and you've been the best in Oxford."
The Oxford Minister nodded in affirmative.
"But you should know one means of transportation".
Another fellow made a noise of a steam engine.
Our Minister couldn't not get the clue.
He fluttered here and there scratching his hairs to bring back memory.
He was drowned in his own sweat.
" Damn it but how did you become a minister then?"
He smiled again upon which he muttered:
"And you've not heard any means of transportation?".
Our Minister nodded harshly.
" What about the sounds of Zoom...Zoom..Chuck...Chuck?".
The Minister dropped his head
His agbada drenched with sweat
His heart beaten hard
You could see it in his face
His broadface of somewhat
"But ...but you came here with somebody Minister".
"And what did he ride on with you?"
"CAR!" The Minister fluttered wide.
"Good, now Minister can you name one means of transportation in your country".

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Thursday 3 June 2021


They came in blackbooths
These men in black uniforms
Blurring our earlobes
Like a violent vulcano cracking in bits
And my father...oh my father
The hunted prey for their heroic spree.
They took him away in the waiting SUV.

He was a pious fellow cloaked with info
He was a down to earth man towards everyone
Sometimes we could not in prayer tell venerate him
Above his chi
We just wonder why he was taken away
Why the sheriff took him away without a word.

As we waited breathlessly, counting our lost
Then, the worst happened-

" Have you heard?". My neighbour said to me.
"Heard what?"
"Your father has been hanged".
"No, I have been reading WOLE SOYINKA".

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Friday 23 November 2018


The say our skin is dark
Dark as devil's heart
Doped from a blackness night.

But they lied as whited sepulchre

They say our country is cursed
The black continent doomed
As wasted as earthen soots
Cascading the flooding virtues

But they lied as thick opaque

They say our mind is the devil
Our thoughts serrating evil plots
And our human gene blackened
As darkened as mined earthenware

But they lied as mother of slaves.

They say our skin is dark
"But wait a minute..." I said to them.
" May be you should see the beautiful sole of my feet.
" May be you should see the colour of my palm.
" May be you should touch the fleshy tongues of all black race.
And there was thirty minutes silence.

By Adewole Alexander


Alexander Adewole
Saturday 3 November 2018


I could hear her sound
'Tick tock! Tick tock!!'
When she struck morn
I woke up.
That's her usual practice.
Everyday the sound came
'Tick tock! Tick tock!!'
When she struck noon
I returned.
This time in alone room
Her hands full of soots.
I could her sound again
'Tick tock! Tick tock!!'
When she struck eve
I slept.
In her tender soothing arms
Feeling her usual pulsating heart.

By Adewole Alexander


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