Gaa

Listen all ears: For several years, Corrosion had continued to eat into the ladder-top And to that all hands must put a stop. All then longingly awaited a messiah To trigger this ubiquitous desire.

Determined to make a difference, For his to be a reign of reference, Labisi searched for a strong statesman To man the ladder like a perfect gentleman. He may have admired the composed mien Of Gaa, but oblivious of what it could mean.

Gaa, Labisi adorned with the Green Leaf Tasked to burnish the Frail Reef. Behold, Bashorun would not condescend to be observed, He ordered to be served. Revelling himself in giving weird orders, Gawking at others in Ile as mere porters. Was the messiah not a harbinger of terror Hastily powered in error? In his first set of cadaverous experiments, Labisi's peers were the readied instruments. Seventeen days into his iledi rites, Just days of wielding regal rights, Alaafin Labisi was caught in his set trap. He had to be flung into the white wrap.

reproach? Did the Bottom Rung extol his approach? Where were the powerful SIX? Perhaps caught in a fix!

Awonbioju retorted, "Alaafin never prostrates to anybody." But his was more of a superhuman body - The man whose back he had climbed to the top of the ladder To turn a leader. One-hundred-and-thirty days of joy, Alaafin Awonbioju fell for his ploy And answered his ancestors' call - Better not be called the Gaa ball.

Where were the powerful SIX? Perhaps caught in a fix! Remember Amuniwaiye and Gberu, What about Osinyago and Oyibi - all debauched! You unanimously drew Yourselves up, wrinkled anarchists out of their paternal base - markedly bewitched! Or, have the alale raised him above reproach? Did the Bottom Rung extol his approach?

Agboluade he plumped for And played like ayo, pushed around like a front door. Again, Gaa won the game So Alaafin would drop his cherished name His ancestors' path must he follow Never the type to go against the flow. The linchpin of the Empire Whose reign could not expire Bashorun Gaa, the stubborn bone stuck in Alaafin's throat Down the ladder did its odour float. He planted a terrifically bloated system Anchored on a nettle-coated stem. To get Alaafin's goodies, the Ilaris had to slave Away. But Bashorun's uniformed might they must brave. He advisedly insured himself against all taints of inchoate jiggery-pokery, Riding sloppily on the indomitable strength of his inborn trickery. Elephant today, lion tomorrow, He easily passed for a cock and crow. He tilled his space to flourish And watched the ladder perish. He dispensed subsidiarity capped by impunity to his consanguinity And displaced tranquility from humanity. His space overrun by little devils Swimming freely like squids in a sea of evils. If only his protégés were blessed The rest could stray into the depths of the

West.

Have the alale raised him above reproach? Did the Bottom Rung extol his approach? Where were the powerful SIX? Perhaps all caught in a fix!

Poetry Adewuyi Ayodeji

Ilorin, Kwara State, Nigeria

Who is axing the ladder? Majeogbe, and you claim this is but an utter slander? This poisoning is mere fudge And the target would not budge. Alaafin Majeogbe, wave to your soil of birth Bye to the earth.

Wrinkled face Crinkled skin Infirm leg Running an old race In company of his kin With none to bring him to the peg. Bashorun found a maiden to date Abiodun's unwilling belle - Agborin was a bait That would thrust him to hell.

Agborin passed for a needed deer Gaa had her crushed alive Abiodun was moved to a tear Angered by the old ranger Ready to flirt with danger, Vowed to cow his perennial sybaritic drive. Alaafin showed he was not kidding, Aare Oyabi and Onikoyi had to do his bidding: Invent a perfect device, not to measure But rupture his pleasure.

His kindred ilk first seemed to hold no truck, With the scheme, a modus vivendi was eventually struck. His perpetual malfeasance began to pall As they girt themselves up for his fall. They tore down to his home, Managed to comb And rake his residence with weapons; set same ablaze And almost all his same-bloodedness neatly erased. Inside, he quaked with fear, his long-sung adulation Bent under the light weight of their fringe modulation Their collective energy Overwhelmed his cunning strategy. Overpowered inside by the suffocating fug, He wished he could crash the rebellion bug. Forced out, his conspicuous debility Belied his notorious agility.

Thirsty, ravenous, buggered, and clearly winded, Bashorun was clobbered naked, Dragged to Akesan market, Dispossessed of his invaluable mystic kit. At the stake, Gaa flailed around helplessly, Nerving himself for the battering haplessly.

Alaafin - no, Aare - sought from him no repentance Obviously, the alale kept a cryptic distance! Bashorun's foes chopped his flesh off at their instance The vultures too took a contagious stance: All keeping the fire stoked up with pieces of his flesh without any resistance. What his eyes saw Was more than an eyesore!

A volume of runny blood Like the Blood of the Lamb Shed to cover Evil Source in mud Thrashing the age-old option of a ram Gushed out of his battered body, Soaked his raiment which was much gaudy Only to smear the hot ground, leaving A quagmire reeking of the Sin of Man, Heaving Out of the land a gigantic stem - yet the concourse continued to tan.

As pity had become a monster humanity was poised to shoot an arrow His pulped lifeless body was dumped in a raging inferno Gbam! It burst silently with an explosive sound And forthwith turned invisible - ashes scattering around Every corner of the land - his spook blown away! Could the exorcised figure soon be on his way?