Art lives here.  

Art lives here. 

And every morning she, 

dishes out helpings of smiles 

to the hopeless.

She, dresses up 

sores of regrets, 

she opens up blinds 

and lets the sun in.

She takes hearts 

on lofty ethereal journeys. 
Art lives here 

and everyday she, 

gives beauty

a new meaning—

a voice to 

tell the world

about pain and strife and suffering and anxiety.

A brush, 

To paint desolation, 





To scream. Stop. 

But to hear continue. 

Art doesn’t stop. No. 

She grasps life by the neck, 

she rides trains without thoughts 

Into oblivion.

She fetches innocence from the mouth of babes.

She slashes shame and

tucks it into boxes of 

unacceptable social constructs.

She. Defiant, 

Takes a whip to the butt of sweet ol’ patriarchy. 

She doesn’t care for the toasting of her knees, 

Neither has the ground ever kissed them. 

She saunters, 

She staggers, 

She drags groans from the throat of niggas. 

Unbendable, she stands with her feet spread apart 

A stance of art. 
Art lives here

And everyday 

She stays redefining 


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Someone wrote me a poem. 😊 

My very dear friend David Olamide Amore wrote this beautiful poem for me. I’m beside myself with joy. 


Osupa has beam its igniting glow 

And irradiation to your glossy sole 

Irawo has bestrewn you with twinkles 

Orekelewa Elese Osun. 

Osumare was not left trailing 

In scenes of your noble treasuring 

As your feet was duly contrasted 

With glamour that Ekuro wears. 

Olokun has sprout her presentment

In adoration of patented compliment 

About beauty that a feet display 

Like the flourishes of Aso-Oke. 

Orekelewa let me adequately see 

The brazen strikes of your zigzagging 

Walk to the front walk to the back 

Dissect movement like a cobra. 

Elese Osun, the bewitching heels 

That walks in ways of eyeful see 

Flowers in their fetching pride 

Envies your movement thereabouts. 

Elese Osun, the enthralling heels 

That walks stylishly with hilarity 

Heavens said they have seen enough 

Of your beauty in realms abode. 

Elese Osun walk and let all eyes see 

The scenic centimeters of your feet 

Stagger to the left, stagger to the right 

Stagger like a noun that’s Incomplete.  

Arewa twist the bevels of your feet 

Like you exhibited in Alafin premises 

The one that seduced the majesty’s lids 

The one that hypnotised his primacy. 

Egbin the enchanting zebra 

Has conceded its refined prime 

For your credence is aesthetical

For your beauty is unsurpassed. 

Your strolls of beauteous stronghold 

Astride the pyramid of flattered loam 

Are brazen like the silky wings of Aluko 

They are symmetrical, they are bold. 

The zest of your ideal perambulations 

Like the tempo of a xylophone 

Are apparent when sun duly glows 

They are ascertainable in attractions. 

Lalabala has genuinely declared 

Disdain her classy excellent 

That your resplendence is unparalleled

That your heels are godly privileges. 

Elese Osun the heels that reveal 

The sustaining Okin pedigree 

Walk and walk with ardency

Melt this pyramid with avidity. 

For a fondled friend. 

Thanks for the affection.
Yeah, he attached the picture too ._. 

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I love how you’re the pen
Fitted perfectly in the spaces
The tips of my fingers allow.
And even though your heart is in the pages of a notebook,
There’s always home waiting for you in the bowl of my pale palm.

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Whenever you swim across the oceans of my mind
It grows wings and flies away
Leaving me to remain a rattling seashell
An exquisite adornment but emptier than  
In those times
Uncertainty rocks me to sleep,
When will it come back?
Will it ever come back?
Something tells me this time around
it’s left for good
The same way you did.

(11:30 pm. Help, I can’t seem to find my mind)

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A rather random thought.


My mind tosses, it wants to know
Why the hands of time
Won’t grow feet to run after
And catch every soft drop
Of experience my soul has ever been a part of.

( A rather random birthday too)

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If my eyes flit
For the tiniest of seconds
Over your lips pushed forward ever so slightly,
The space in between your eyes, your brows
Furrowed in concentration
I am thrown years back
Into the two weeks ago when your name crossed my lips for the first time
I am reminded of the vast emptiness of plain colors that was my life
Before your rain brought the bow
I am blinded by the sun hiding between your teeth…
I become a splash of attention on the tiny detail of birthmark close to the 45th lash on your lower eye lid…
I am…
What was I a second ago?

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Eko trips.


Every day, every evening,

I wonder if my soul

Is the ghost that drives my car back home


Third mainland bridge’

Photo : @victorsozaboy

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