April 27, 2016 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Abdulkareem Awwal Opeyemi








If I die

And take a sojourn to where rest liveth

Tell my kids when they too can feed their mouths

That I have left for them words

Plough from wisdom of a grayed hair





I die

When my hands will stretch forward

And no pen it will hold

No more writing from the quill that fill my bed

Tell the world that a man is gone





If I die

And my mouth agape with no words speaking

And my ears deserts words

And my eyes closed to see lights

Cry not for me, rather, bury me like a king





If I die

When my pen and book will beacon a call to me

When my kids will hold my hands to teach a word

Tell them I am far gone

Far gone to a home where deceit lives not





If I die

Tell not to the word that a gem is dead

Rather tell them

That I have gone to learn words from the supreme

Whose word all being relied





When I die,

Bother not bury me in a coffin,

Leave my body to the land,

Bother not cry, let my soul go and not wander

And tell the vulture who dine on remains

That I have a bile in my stomach

Bile full of words

The like which killed the pig in the bush yesterday

But bury me with my pen and book like a king

Will be bury with his errand boy














When I get old and my born becomes fragile

Dancing to the tune of fatigue

And my hair changes colour

Like chameleons, whose death came

While watching self from the house-wives powder

Then soon I will answer the call from beyond

I will die





If I die

Tell the sorcerers, that his incantation

hasn’t taken a blow on my jaw

Tell him, that his night journey,

and foods for the birds didn’t knock down my hormone

But only the voice from the great callers I respected

Only a rest I went to take from where fatigue reaches not





If I die

Tell my children, I have only left

Not as a coward in the ring

But a Valliant to battles of words

Wars that carter virtues away from holder

For the death of a valiant

Is better than the living of the cowards





If I die

Tell the doors of my home

That am gone, to make them proud

Tell them, hide not the kolanut of words under your tongue

Tell them, I left to make them the heroes of time

For a widow of the brave warrior

Is a mother to the wife of a coward





If I die

When I seize to take the pleasure of air

And I reject the call of the majestic men

When my pen shall fall, and my book send to an uncommon rest

When the bleeding on my pen and the lines on my book remains disvirgins

Tell the world, that neither my words betrayed me, nor do I betray my pen

But the inevitable journey must be accomplished









Abdulkareem Awwal Opeyemi

Abdulkareem Awwal Opeyemi (Ibn Mudeer) is a rational poet who writes mainly on society issues. His love for poetry knows no bounds, most of his works are reviewed on Nibstears.blogspot.com, in Tuck Magazine and also the ‘NIZAMIAN, an India college magazine. He contested the Nizam college poetry competition and has so many poems to his credit, including duels with other poets too. He has won the marathon author of the month from Pen Egg magazine in February and 2nd position in the India Nizam college poetry competition in March.


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