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About Literature / Hobbyist Damola MabogunjeMale/Nigeria Group :icongreen-white-green: Green-White-Green
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Literature
On Freedom
I did not know freedom
Until I knew boundaries
Until I wanted to expand
I could not feel confined
So was I caged from the beginning?
And if so does it matter?
For if the boundaries had not existed,
Would I have known what it meant to cross?
For if freedom were the absence of boundaries
Then I was trapped from the beginning
But if I never would've tried to expand
Then was I never confined?
If I've never felt confined
Have I never tried expansion?
Or have I, contrarily, always exceeded boundaries?
And if I've always felt confined
Am I always expanding?
Or am I, contrarily, being held back
By the one
Boundary?
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 0
Literature
Where is My Righteous Indignation?
Where oh where is my righteous indignation?
Where oh where has it gone?
For my nation that bleeds
Black blood for foreign thieves
Where oh where has it gone?
Where oh where is my righteous indignation?
Where oh where has it gone?
While bomb blasts resound
Scattering death on the ground
Where oh where has it gone?
Where oh where is my righteous indignation?
Where oh where has it gone?
As our leaders serve self
And our people serve wealth
Where oh where has it gone?
Where oh where is my righteous indignation?
Where oh where has it gone?
By the failures gone past
I last saw it, aghast
And now, it seems, I have none.
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Hello From the Other Side
Hello from the other side
I've thought of you a thousand times
And I'll not say something brand new
Nor repeat again that I miss you
My heart demands, and so I say
Listen, I'll be here, till you someday
Are willing to say hello back
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Progress?
So I wake up this morning
And I think I ought to write
The problem is I’m not so sure
’bout the direction of my life
Things seem to be going well
But that’s just what it is
I don’t know whether time will tell
Or that’s just what it is
Am I happy? That’s the question
There’s a bit of malcontent
Most days go by too quickly
To be caught, before they went
Suddenly, I’m just straight cruising
And it feels a bit unfair
Cause I’ve done nothing to earn this role
And yet, look at, I’m here
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 0
Literature
D Evaluation
I started to write
But then I thought it moot
I mean the thing I had to say
Was just a bit of truth
The whole word must've known it
It wasn't new to me
So why should I express a thing
So so so ordinary?
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 0
Literature
Oh, Dear Lord
Oh Dear Lord, how could it be!?
With outstretched hand, you reach for me
Who am I, that you should bend
Your precious hip, your hand extend
For I know not how to stray from sin
Although I try, I rarely win
My flesh rebels, to drown in shame
Yet you pardon, time and again
Oh Dear Lord, how could it be!?
With outstretched hand, you reach for me
Who am I, that you should bend
Your precious hip, your hand extend
I bow in awe of your grace
The glory of your holy face
Doth shine on me, I cannot look
And still you reach, through holy book
Oh Dear Lord, how could it be!?
With outstretched hand, you reach for me
Who am I, that you should bend
Your precious hip, your hand extend
Your Word, He heals and fills me up
Your Spirit counsels, builds me up
Your Son forgives, and frees me up
Till I'm secure, and worries stop
Oh Dear Lord, how could it be!?
With outstretched hand, you reach for me
Who am I, that you should bend
Your precious hip, your hand extend
You are the potter, I am the clay
You are
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 2 2
Literature
He Gave Me Rest
When every whisper was a siren
And every sound, an alarm to my ears
He gave me silence
When every mumble pointed a finger
And every grumble, accused of my fears
He gave me solitude
And when every dream was a nightmare
And every whim, a cause to be scared
He gave me rest
Oh! What a great God He is!
Amen. Hallelujah!
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
In His presence
Oh! What joy! What Joy!
It is to love the Lord
To celebrate without restraint
His grace unto us ward
In His presence, we are blameless
For the debts of sin were paid
When the Son of Man
For man's own sake
Descended to the grave
Oh! What joy! What Joy!
It is to follow Him
To walk the path least trodden
For the glory of our King
In His presence, we are blameless
For the debts of sin were paid
When the Son of Man
For man's own sake
Descended to the grave.
Oh! What joy! What Joy!
It is to serve in faith
Believing in a morrow where
We march amongst the saints
In His presence, we are blameless
For the debts of sin were paid
When the Son of Man
For man's own sake
Descended to the grave.
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Until I Had to Coo to You
A lighter heart I have not felt
Since fear and doubt within it dwelt
With chains and shackles roundabout
A straight jacket on love
I thought I felt as others do
As free to love, as free to coo
Until I had to coo to you
Until I had to coo to you
A jingle jangle awkward dance
This was the form of my advance
With two left feet I tried to Waltz
With each left foot I found some faults
I thought I felt as others do
As free to love, as free to coo
Until I had to coo to you
Until I had to coo to you
A startled bull in China shop
A bungling fool, more clumsied up
You had me when you said "Hello"
What did I say? Uh... I don't know?
I thought I felt as others do
As free to love, as free to coo
Until I had to coo to you
Until I had to coo to you
Until I had to coo to you
I thought I felt as others do
As free to love, as free to coo
Turns out in fact, that was untrue.
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Twen [T minus Something]
You're a day over twenty,
Or a year, or nine more
So it's time to get hassled
For we have been keeping score
You may not feel it, but you're lonely
And you've got to find a spouse
You may not know it, but you're homely
And you need to buy a house
When we call you "twenty-something"
It just means we've had enough
It's a sign we think you're ready
To find love, and kids, and stuff
So start looking and stop slacking!
We are sure it will pay off
And speaking of getting paid
Find a job, the market's tough
Look, we know that you are sceptic
And we know, that you're afraid
Yes we know, you don't feel ready
But we're sick of your delays
Step it up, young man or woman
It is time to do your part
Best read "Twen [T minus something]"
It counts down, until you start.
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Manic
I AM NOT
INSANE
YET!!!
This bluster belies the beads of sweat
Scoring his forehead and marring his vest as
His heart reattempts an escape from his chest
His eyes seem to dart as if they're on a quest
His words are so quick that they all come in bursts
His thoughts are belaboured; they seem such a mess
Still he doesn't think he's a man in distress
He's worried because he knows these are the signs
He's worried because it's happened other times
He's Worried. So worried. He's out of his mind.
A panic so manic, that it's a rare find...
YET
INSANE
I AM NOT!!!
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
Problem Solvers
"Time! More Time!" the teachers cry
As six by ten seconds fly by
"I started in the afternoon
How did it get this late, so soon?"
"Why!? Why!?" principals sigh
As two in three students fall shy
"I know we did, all that we could
Why is it not being understood?"
"How!? How!?" the district asks
Can we solve for [tool] in [task]?
"What can we use across the map
That gets our grades up to the cap?"
"Whoa! Whoa!" the gurus say
Let's look at this a different way
"A problem underlies these facts
Let's analyze..
   and do the math"
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
The Road to Inner Peace
Along the road to inner peace
I found a truth: I was amiss
Lost in a sea of mental bliss  
I thought I knew...
I knew not this.
That to be weak is to be strong
That we all need to feel we belong
That hearts are made to be exposed
And secrets must not stay untold
For in this life, we will have fears
And we might feel, that no one cares
But if we hide our heartfelt tears
Then when we cry...
Well, no one hears.
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 0 0
Literature
The Wurm
The Arena...
It was the one place where the words of a child would be respected as that of an adult: where age didn’t matter, and your decisions were your own.
Nothing more than an open space in the middle of the market square, it had always had a name too grand for its appearance. But it was where battles were fought, debts were paid. and grievances settled - with the price of blood.
Which made it the one place… the only place… where he could get his revenge.
Now as he stood amongst the crowd, watching the final match before his own, plotting and visualizing the many ways he was going to butcher the bastard… a strange calm settled over his mind.
Revenge
He took a step forward, making his way through the throng of people surrounding the ring...
REVenge
His eyes intently focused on the goal before him, he pushed aside those who stood in his path, and squeezed between others unaware of his wrath.
REVENge
Clearing
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 0
Literature
Writer's Block
I had a dream of writer's block
A dream in which my mind was stuck
On words like verbs, and terms like f*ck
And how my head deserved a knock
And in this dream I was quite vexed
I was so mad I was perplexed
I couldn't think of what came next
Nor how to finish up my text
I begged my words to understand
I begged that they come on demand
I couldn't bear a pen so still
That couldn't move by my sheer will
Yet on deaf ears befell my pleas
And this fact brought me to my knees
So I left a prayer on the breeze
"Next time...
I pray to write with ease."
:iconMabogunje:Mabogunje
:iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 3
The Red String Cover Design by Mabogunje The Red String Cover Design :iconmabogunje:Mabogunje 1 0

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Literature
The Color of Darkness
Sara hated travel – hated the journey, the movement. Perhaps the wandering of her spirit gave rise to the complacency of her body. Still, the necessity for travel was inescapable.
Sweating through a fog of Xanax and Ambien, her hair damp – piled and disheveled like heaps of autumn leaves – tumbled in ringlets against her cadaverous skin.  Her eyes, sharpened by deep shadows, were a tumult of color – Indigo.  Vermilion.  Rust.  Mahogany.
Her beauty was cruelly deceptive – perverted by time and corrupted by desire.  Her perfume was the sweet smell of jasmine and acetylene – undercut by the scent of flop sweat and malice – an odor that went unnoticed as she walked through the terminal at Heathrow.
They were waiting for her.  Their fear was palpable.
"Where is the child?" Sara asked in her heavily accented but inscrutable voice.
"Lost...on the Underground." the man shifted his hands near his wais
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Literature
Drawn Together
"–a fit!  A seizure!  There must be some kind of police report!"
"Sir, any such information would be confidential.  But there has been no report of anyone having a 'fit' or 'seizure' this morning.  Now, please step aside!"
"No, no.  I'm sorry."  Paul backed away, suddenly aware that the queue behind him was becoming a small, angry crowd.  A policeman stood nearby, radio held to his lips.  Someone coughed, "Nutter," as he staggered away from the kiosk and up towards the London streets.
He scanned the crowd surging into the station, hoping to see the shock of red hair and the deep brown of the jacket.  A hand gripped his left forearm.
"Is he here?  Did you find him?"  A man, maybe fifty, stared at Paul with pleading, mud-colored eyes.  The close-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair and hangdog features sparked Paul's memory: it was the man with the belt.  The wo
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Literature
A Shower and a Change
"Ah, damn.  God damn."
The stain was small, no larger than a coin.  It fell near his right hip, nestled in the dip between crotch and thigh.  Still, it was nauseating.  Paul stripped off the trousers and walked to the sink, hoping the sliver of hotel soap would take out the spot.
He began running the hot water and paused, staring at the vomit.  Resisting the urge to gag, he grazed his fingers over the stain.  It was purely liquid and slick like dish soap, but the sickly brown could only be vomit.  He slowly raised his hand to his face and sniffed his fingers.  Nothing.  It seemed, for a moment, odorless.  But no, he suddenly caught a faint scent of metal.  Like a cup full of coins.  Or a bloodied nose.
"Shit!"  A stream of blood ran down his nostrils, over his lip and down his chin.  Paul dropped the trousers to the bathroom floor and watched the b
:iconmarkmywords85:markmywords85
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Literature
Broken Pieces
To create with honesty
Is to leave oneself vulnerable;
But I would rather suffer
The harshness of criticism
Than become the creator
Of works insincere.

Once again, the icy blade of rejection
Has been driven deep
Into my willingly-exposed heart -
And like a desperate, suffering creature,
I search for answers
Within myself.
I begin to question
Why I care so much  
About the contents of their poison words,
And I wonder how
Their sting can be so very bitter,
When I believe in myself with such unyielding conviction.
Bewildered and crushed,
I question the motives
Of compassionless critics;
Those who seem so quickly to forget
That there sits a living, breathing, feeling person
Behind the avatar I portray.
As I've done a thousand times,
I ask myself
Why these creatures cannot know,
As I have long known,
That things need not be perfect
In order to be beautiful.
Thankfully,
Broken hearts can be repaired;
Their jagged fragments
Glued together;
Reassembled
With precision over time
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Literature
Comic Book Hero
We met in the Summer, I was single and free,
So fragile and sweet, he took care of me.
He was so much fun, exciting and new,
It was all so amazing, too good to be true.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his heart was untrue, his words were lies.
No comic book hero, but a villain disguised.
Our romance was deep, like Superman and Miss Lane
Iron Man, Miss Potts, Spidey and Mary Jane.
He impressed me with gifts, and words sublime,
Affirmations of how he would always be mine.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his heart was untrue, his words were lies.
No comic book hero, but a villain disguised.
As time went by, his promises were lost.
His stories grew grander and my heart was the cost.
The hero, he ran. Where to? No one knows.
But a path of heart ache will follow where he goes.
Like a comic book hero, he too wore a mask.
Promises broken, our love not to last.
And his heart was
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Literature
Flame
"I saw red."
What a curious, infernal thing to say -
Truly, I didn't know I felt this way.
So immediately I sought out whatever assistance
I might find to steel this compromised flame resistance.
"Envision what you wish you banish," my teacher said.
So I fumed with a fury and visualized the red.
"Out damned spot, out I say..."*
Oh that it were so easy to just simply scold away.
Flash of red...
I saw as I stirred awake in bed.
Feeling the sun's gentle kisses, its rays streaming across my head.
And I turned to embrace a lingering phantasm
In a partial dream-state as I reached...O...
...Oh....Oh.... the burning red,
That sizzles, and sears, and scorches my flesh
In the torment of taboo I've found myself enmeshed.
So I cried to every sympathetic spirit,
And every Voodoo Loa that was available to hear it,
"If there be no fuel to sustain this soul,
Then cool my heart to the black of coal."
...Oh.... but still, still the red...
As the sparks flew higher
And I danced 'round the pyre to the dru
:iconGiovediStorm-Shade:GiovediStorm-Shade
:icongiovedistorm-shade:GiovediStorm-Shade 16 19

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In the last month, I've started 2 blogs: each dedicated to one of my varied interests. I'm posting weekly, and hoping I can keep this up. So if any of you care to have a read, here they are:

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Mabogunje
Damola Mabogunje
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Nigeria

        Proudly Nigerian by Mabogunje

        I Love Christ by Mabogunje 

        I Write by Mabogunje

        Coder by Mabogunje

I am an author, a programmer, and a dabbler in digital art. I like to try my hand at everything. But mostly, I like to write. So take a good look around and see if there's anything you like! :D
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full metal alchemist by Locof full metal alchemist :iconlocof:Locof 77 0 Volume 13 of FMA manga by joaocouto Volume 13 of FMA manga :iconjoaocouto:joaocouto 25 5 Ed : Leisure by Iza-nagi Ed : Leisure :iconiza-nagi:Iza-nagi 363 79 King bradley by unspoken4eva King bradley :iconunspoken4eva:unspoken4eva 15 2 Map of the Internet 1.0. by JaySimons Map of the Internet 1.0. :iconjaysimons:JaySimons 7,906 2,600 3.9.2013: For the Light by Suensyan 3.9.2013: For the Light :iconsuensyan:Suensyan 156 6 27.8.2013: Morning in Torronsuo National Park I by Suensyan 27.8.2013: Morning in Torronsuo National Park I :iconsuensyan:Suensyan 61 10 kenshin is back by shayodiyu kenshin is back :iconshayodiyu:shayodiyu 6 0
Looking to cover my apartment walls in art.
  • Bedrooom: Anime inspired pieces
  • Living room: Landscapes, skies, (calm pieces)

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:iconteenagedirtbag96:
TeenageDirtbag96 Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks much for the fave :)
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:iconmabogunje:
Mabogunje Featured By Owner Apr 27, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome.
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:iconsirlogan997:
Sirlogan997 Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015
Thanks for the favorite:)
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:iconmabogunje:
Mabogunje Featured By Owner Feb 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
No problem.
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:iconfradarlin:
fradarlin Featured By Owner Oct 23, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
thanks for the llama!! :squee:
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