Lyrics, Pen and Pad.

Your look is like the gaze of the sun, Like ice, it melts my heart. Your smile compares to an evening sunset over the sea, It summons and arouses my feeling for nature. Your sparkling white teeth Reminds me of the glittering stars On a full moon night. Just Like the moon peeps behind cloud, Your eyeballs stare beneath its lids. How much I long for that look The alluring one. To pull me out of my skin, To a journey beyond the creeks. Pope Fhysx © 2017

Oh! how I miss being a minor, The freshness of each day, Like a fruit produced just in time The belly aching kind of laughs Oh! How I miss being a minor, Good OI’ days buried Beneath the tide of memory Gone into oblivion Engrossed in daily busyness Oh! how I miss being a minor. Pope Fhysx © 2017

Two compatible people are a fairy tale. Happily, Never After. The knitting of two Incompatible souls, Happily, Ever After. Incompatible people making a good adjustment. For if two people agree on everything, One of them is unnecessary in the first place. Deux personnes compatibles sont un conte de fées. Heureusement, jamais après. Le tricot de deux âmes incompatibles. Heureux pour toujours Les personnes incompatibles font un bon ajustement. Car si deux personnes s'entendent sur tout, L'un d'entre eux est inutile en premier lieu. Pope Fhysx © 2017

Maami , The molder, The Teacher, The disciplinarian. Your igbati-igbamu Is the best tool I’ve ever seen When it comes to child training, Your igbaju olooyi is the best choice For Cognitive Recalibration Your winks and pinches Speaks volume, More than the best dissertation ever written. You spoke both words and lashes. Employing each at the right moments. Lashes were for the day, Words were for the nights. How and where you Got the confidence to beat with Orogun, I still wonder till date. They call it child abuse You call Ibawi Spare the rod, Spoil the child Was your daily watchword Stranger asked if I was birthed by you Or given out for servitude Yet at that, You were the sweetest. Countless nights you woke me, As if for a conversation, But I get welcomed From the sweet sounding sleep With a round of applause My face being the victim Even when I developed Tolerance to your beating You explored my body

When God at first made man, Having a glass of blessings standing by; Let us (said he) pour on him all we can: Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,                         Contract into a span.         So strength first made a way; The beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honor, pleasure: When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that alone of all his treasure         Rest in the bottom lay.         For if I should (said he) Bestow this jewel also on my creature, He would adore my gifts instead of me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:         So both should losers be.         Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessness: Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness         May toss him to my breast.    George Herbert.

Many, many years ago when I was twenty-three I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red My father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed This made my dad my son-in-law and really changed my life For now my daughter was my mother, 'cause she was my father's wife And to complicate the matter, even though it brought me joy I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad For if he were my uncle, then that also made him brother Of the widow's grownup daughter, who was of course my step-mother Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I'm her grandchild And