Morakinyo's Blog

Ruby petals under the golden sun,
The boabab that gets better by the ages,
Rhythm of the flower whistled song.

Essence of gold and light of diamond,
Book of warmth of countless pages,
Red of the rose, green of the almond.

what luck my heart did make me have,
the joy I see and the way I seek,
the beat of my heart and the love that I have.

And this I’d say over and over again,
with loud,loving, late night whispers,
to turn your pains to a dream tale,
where you in my arms our boat sails
us kissing, under the clear full moon.

Morakinyo T. Bolarinwa (Beehem)

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I was in love with the pen,

tasted of the passion of its ink,

sheltered in a pile of books,

as dusk paved way for the brink

and of the ferns’ grip divide gave way to dawn’s shine with rust glory

reflecting the wreckage of a love affair upon pile of worn slates and heaps of torn papers


its the end of a love affair

bloodshot eyes of Shanghai’s caligraph

broken heartpiece of her polygraph

ink arsenal filled with red cries

with leaks from its table cask plundered by its grapheme.



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As I sat in a small café eating lunch yesterday, a man entered with his dog and headed back toward the bathroom, his dog following him. He nodded to me and said “Que aproveche” (Bon appetit) as he passed, then waved a vague signal in the general direction of his dog, who then promptly sat down about 6 feet from me. The man continued on his way to the back of the café to the bathtroom, and his un-leashed dog waited patiently for him, occasionally glancing over at me, probably envious of my succulent jamón ibérico. I got to thinking about how normal this whole scene was to me: the stranger telling me to enjoy my meal as he passes me on his way to the bathroom, the dog entering the café unleashed and then sitting patiently for his owner to return…where am I? When did these things become so…

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Connie Britton’s Cascading Curls Were This Week’s Top Try-On

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From the lands of the black race

Where the Sun shines with grace

And glows on her ebony face

To reveal the fine trace

Right from Africa emerges the black beauty

More precious than diamonds of Sierra

And gold of the Zulu

With sweet fragrance of her Aloe

With a smile so inviting

Her gorges so intriguing in her Ankara attire

She stands endowed with Umthwalo

Upon the sand of the Sahara

Beyond the banks of the river Nile

Across the land of Oduduwa

Within the land of the blacks

Right from Africa comes black beauty….

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Exploring the wild wide world on a lone voyage,
Sighting the wonders of day alone,
And the magnificent views of night with no one to share with,

With the bright shine of sunrise at day,
I stand at bay,
Siphoning the cool air into my lungs,
While fronds dance to tunes of ocean’s breeze,
And birds chirps from distant trees.

With the moon so full at night,
Ands arms afold from evenning chills,
I ventured alone at dusk,
Voyaging across the territory of solitude.

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I was going through my photo collections when i realized how inspiring a photograph can make an observer be.
Each photograph gives different meaning to different observers which is made possible by numerous factors like artistic imagination of the photographer,location,natural effects on set,studio set effects,costumes,the type of equipment used by the photographer and other co-factors.

Check out the pictures below and enjoy the beauty of the beauty of each shot.

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May 11, 2012 · 4:41 pm