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ABAKE

Fine girl from the typical topography of Osun

With her every successful beauty parade, her

Beauty was not the typical version.

Like Porkuwa, she was easy on the eyes of 

Anything male.

Every lip adored the deep dimple she possessed

Captivating smile left her with too many girl problems

Abake, come and eat!

The favored child, the gods had freely given

Or so was thought.


Abake
A full fleshed woman with buoyant features

Oh! A big girl she had become.

Daddy’s girl, what she preferred we called her

The dimples seemed even deeper

Such a beauty that invited full pockets

One that had them in impoverishes lift her pale

But one thing rested their amorous pursuits

She did not have her heart for sale.

Abake you are not any younger!

Her big mummy had always strived to make seen this

But she did not quit chasing rainbows

She fancied her Father’s four dollar foot long

Ah! She did.


The itch on her skin brought neglect for control
In Baba’s room did she fake a sleep that night

Her very few clothes were hidden under the dark room

Clasping her thighs unceremoniously; the urge overwhelming.

Her lips so dry and starved all her life

The bend of the door handle welcomed her father.

The bulb and Baba bulged their eyeballs at her red pant

Amidst his confused state was his slow but steady erection.

Scratch my back was the voice that swallowed Baba’s heart

Her beauty needed a new definition

Her big tatas were wrestling out of her night gown

Enough was seen that night, but enough could not be said

His penis had betrayed him, Abake moaned for a Baroka experience.

His every effort at putting his thoughts together was abortive

Like a beast did he tear her clothes, with immediacy did he become blind.

He nonetheless located her well kept chambers

Like the mating of grasshoppers, she put a big knife into his chest after rounds

A reward for killing his wife, a nemesis he did not deem inevitable.

A curse he brought upon his household

A curse he had forever called a Banbury tale of cock and bull

Never to be a Chief with your wife’s blood, but there is

Still that fool.


 © OKOCHA OBED

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Author:

My name is Okocha Obed, you can call me Obeezy. I love to display aesthetics through my ink—I must say writing is my small world. I consider myself a deep writer; I say I am deep because I have discovered that part about myself, even, my fabulous audience share same view. I believe in connecting to all kind of persons as there is always something to learn from everyone. I see myself as an actor; to stay on the stage, I need to think ink. The voice is a reflection of myself and my conscience. I always felt I could be like superman while growing up. It was pretty ridiculous so all I did was dream of being a soldier. It was abortive. So I created a world where I could keep talking about the ills in my community but with other flavours to show I am growing into completeness. keep reading.

4 thoughts on “ABAKE

    1. Thanks blood…karma indeed hunts everyone. I would love that you read it once more to see if there is a new message you probably did not grab at first reading. Thanks for always supporting me.

      Like

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