This poem was brought about by the muse Teju Cole provided in his book titled “EVERYDAY FOR THE THIEF.” So if you don’t find the poem interesting not because you don’t like poems but because the poem just doesn’t have what it takes to be one, lay your blames on Teju Cole, I’m sure he would not mind. BTW my poems are not crappy.

p.s: the poem is short, so read and enjoy.


I settled down to read a book


I am halfway through the book

And I am not quite eager to finish

This book is not a bad read, I idolize the author

Somehow, somewhere I miss the title’s punch line

Not unless Lagos is the thief.

A fly buzzes nearby and steals my attention

Definitely the fly is a thief in my moment

The author deserves a 10 for the title. What an insight.

He blabs about the noise and distraction in Lagos

The duo rob the mind of its sanity and creativity

I try to reason with the author

But then my mum’s voice over the telephone is a notch too high for me to concentrate

I go through the paragraph for the umpteenth time while trying to make sense of what mum is saying. Typical gossip.

I deafen myself to the other noises in the background

A genetic variation common among the original land owners

I read a bit further and ponder a bit more

I pick up my dictionary to check words I don’t know. Typical me.

I will not use the words generously like a famous pastor I know

For I don’t want to be left befuddled and abased like his every Sunday congregation. Ignorance kills.

I return back to my book

The author confesses the awesomeness of the superior intellect of those who have the ability to concentrate in the Lagos noise.

I tend to exaggerate a tad.

I open up my mind to the noises in the both distant and near me.

I feel like a maestro as the noise poco a poco till the crescendo forms a musical piece of pristine grandeur.

Another ability of pure born and bred Lagosians.

The powerful duo of Mozart and Bach cannot beat the rhythm that is now in my head

My muse to beautiful and time worthy creations

My creative juices begin to flow and I toss the book aside

I curb the flow with a white pad, the trigger to my imaginative endowment

It flows without caution, my period must end on this pad

And so it did in my last verse

I am a Lagosian and I own this land

The exhaust intoxicates me. I call it liquor

The noise inspires me. I call it music

The stale air caresses my member. I call it ecstasy

Amidst all the amok, I find hysteria

The people never dull in putting on a show

Embrace Lagos as my flow ends with this period(.)



8 Responses to “EVERYDAY FOR THE THIEF.”

  1. it was nice until it started reading like a rap lyrics towards the end …ive got beefs with rap so it doesnt mean this was bad. im just prejudiced 😀

  2. I had the book, read it up to the middle and it was a wrap….. But like u said, the title killed it. Cool one boss

  3. Nice poem . U can call me if u want to go pro on this . I believe u know me

  4. cool sha…….
    many many english

  5. Really Short Poem -_- Idwis Im coming to steal that book from you.

  6. I reserve my comments

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