Blog

Portrait of nice young woman arms touch hair mirror reflection wear t-shirt free time modern interior flat indoors

<blockquote>But my unfolding is a journey..and not a destiny.</blockquote>I am a seed planted deep, deep, inside and within&nbsp;I yearn to sprout, to unfold and to thrive,The me I desire, is waiting, waiting to break free,But my unfolding is a journey and not a destiny. It's a process, in between, a slow release,A shedding of layers, a finding of peace,I'm unlearning and also learning to beThe best version of me, wild and carefree. I'm a work in progress, a masterpiece in the making,A story still being written, with each step, though aching,The chains of doubt, the weights that I've carried....I'm finding my voice, my heart, my soul and my manner through all... My unfolding is a journey, winding and slow,But with each step, I find my flow,I'm discovering parts of me, I never knew existed,I'm becoming the me, I've always wished to be existed. So I'll keep on unfolding, like a flower in bloom,I'll keep on growing, till I reach my full bloom,My unfolding is a process, and I'm feeling alive,I'm becoming the me, I desire, and it's feeling good to thrive. (Sometimes growth whispers in the silence) —Oreoluwa Odusina.

The Me I Desire.

Voices Of Naija: November’s Yemipoet Spoken-Word Contest Unveiled

<blockquote>Now his heart beats with a different song.He knows connection makes the broken strong.</blockquote>I remember telling this fragile soulto cherish the one thing that keeps us whole.I begged him to value what truly sustains,but he never granted audience.His silence echoed through my veins. Life in his little cubicle seemed enough.He hid there, smiling through moments rough.An island in a desert he quietly made,a lonely wanderer living in fading shade. He carried baggage no words could explain,the kind that bends shouldersand sinks a heart in pain.With every step, his strength slipped away,yet he kept insisting,“Relationships ain’t my thing.Life is every man for himself.Guard your soul and guard your shelf.” His voice trembled with a confidencehe never truly felt.Fear was the armour in which he dwelt. He refused the lifeline I stretched with care.He pushed away comfort, warmth, and prayer.He could have had shelter on stormy nights,arms that shield and heart that lights. Yet he wandered alone.Craving a fellow man.Needing a touch of companionship,but unable to open his span.His Master whispered warnings soft and kind,but he locked every door,closed every window,shut out every design. Without these bonds he could not rise.His dreams fell still before his eyes.He made other things his top pursuitand paid the price in silent dispute. But life has a way of teaching trutheven to the strongest heart aloof.Pain became his tutor.Loneliness became his guide.And from experience he finally learnedwhat pride tried so long to hide. Now his heart beats with a different song.He knows connection makes the broken strong.He has become a voice for love’s embrace,an advocate for bonds we dare not replace. He teaches that relationshipsare gifts wrapped in human form.They pull us from darknessand carry us through storm. Building bonds with fellow menshould be our highest call again.Help from above will reach your handbut often through the touchof another human’s strand. So build with tenderness.Value with grace.For relationships soften life’s hardest place. —Adetutu Oluwapelumi Deuel.

Human Bridges. 

Overweight woman sitting on the floor, feeling overwhelmed on her weight loss journey next to dumbbells and a scale

<blockquote>And I hope that someday I'll rediscover what it means to be in a comfort zone</blockquote>I've found solace within myself,&nbsp;Yet, I tremble in the presence of others.&nbsp;The four walls of my room have become my sanctuary.&nbsp;I tried to find comfort with myself. My emotions are overwhelming,&nbsp;And the weight of failures and rejections has sobered me.&nbsp;I'm intimidated by my own self,&nbsp;And surprisingly, I don't find solace within myself any more. Comfort zone you say??To me, that is just a foreign concept.&nbsp;I struggle to find peace,And I hope that someday I'll rediscover what it means to be in a comfort zone….. —Zainab Kolajo.

The Weight of Emotions.

Autumn pumpkin sprout macro closeup with water droplets

—after Adeyemi Samuel﻿ <blockquote>..I am still capable of beautiful things</blockquote>It is the close of the rainy season,and, like these final drops, I amslowly drifting away. Lately, I've been preoccupied bythe weight of my presence. Life, what trick have you gotten upyour sleeve for me?Me— bushy hair. Me— shaky hands,broken diastema. At the mouth of his poem, my friend Adeyemi,Says, “I am still capable of the thingsI am yet to become."And that is what scares me; How nature always takes its course,How the baobab does not, of its own accord,choose to become twigs of bones. But I have beheld baobabs bombarded by beauty—filled to the brim with grins—Life welling up again like it never left.This is the miracle I bid November bring. O, November,Tell me I am still capable of beautiful things.

November Begins.

Notebook with word Winner on white background, top view

<blockquote>Every trial, a trail in my testimony, Every violation etched upon my victory ground.</blockquote> At fourteen, I watered a federal dream with my hands,Shouldered my youth to face the university gates,The rules whispered — too young to belong,I told the old fellow, my pen writes fine exceptions.The gates quivered to yield, daring me to prove my years as I walked through. Now sixteen, that federal dream breathes within and beyond federal halls.Every trial, a trail in my testimony,Every violation etched upon my victory ground.And as I walk through these gates again, this time as a representative, my lips clasped in realization—I came, I saw, I conquered. —theade_verse

FINE EXCEPTIONS: DEFYING AGE, DEFINING VICTORY!

Yemipoet Creation

Yemipoet is an Instagram  page that organizes monthly and random poetry contest. Top 3 winner gets a cash prize. Yemipoet is registered  as Yemipoet Creation Company in Nigeria