League Day 30: OYEKUNLE IFEOLUWA vs ONI TOMIWA

   Live: OYEKUNLE IFEOLUWA vs ONI TOMIWA

This duel is dedicated to Africans who joined suit to the doom of transgender.

NOTE;
1) The judges decision takes 70% of the judgement while well wishes and lovers of poetry votes takes 30%.

2) Upon no circumstance must any of the above mentioned poets vote.

3) The contestants are urged to invite friends to Vote for them using the comment section of this post. No rule exempts you from canvassing for votes.

5) Voting lasts for 18 hours from commencement of Duel.

6) Vote using I VOTE POEM 1 or I VOTE POEM 2

7) Results would be uploaded briefly after the closure of votes.

Good luck to the wordlords.. LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!

THEME: LOST 

OYEKUNLE IFEOLUWA

TITLE: LOST 
(For transgender victims)

Tell father that I’ve gone astray
like a mad man without chain.
I’ve pitched my tent on devil’s tail
for a taste of women’s fate.
Tell father that I hate this boobs
and this feminine look.
Tell mother that I hate this hole
dug in between my thighs.  

Tell father that I was insane
for trying to mock God.
Tell him that I am a disgrace;
A victim of wild thoughts.
The hips the doctors gifted me
has pulled me to my doom.
Tell mother that I hate this face
and this implanted womb. 

Tell father that I’m a lost soul
living with cold regrets.
I could have remain a good man
and lose not to myself.
I should have left God’s work alone
and lived being a man.
Tell mother I would find a way
and trace my path back home. 

© iPod
OYEKUNLE IFEOLUWA PETER

OnI TOMIWA

TITLE; LOST

Here again, another head is lost

In the maze of existence

He meandered his way into thick darkness

That even the Summer sun can not illuminate.

They are like a coin that slips

Into the dark stomach of a pit

Never to see the light

Of the day again.

How do we describe this act

That even beasts do not dare?

How do we describe men with changed heads

And flattened muscles?

Do we declare them mad

For their different choice?

Do we call them effeminate

For wishing to be females

Sitting behind a crowd so mean?

What do we call females who take pleasure in chiseled skins

And long beards?

Do we debunk them in their boats

Because their ways are confusing triangles?

Or do we let them sip from the cultural wine

Because they too are humans?

Do we pile a rock of rejection on their heads?

But then, what happens to their big phalluses

Do they also dissolve into a crevice of softened flesh?

Or does a wand come out of their parted orifice?

Mysterious mysery that confounds

The lunatics and the herbalist.

When you see them; men with round asses

Or women with bulging biceps

Do tell them that they are lost

On a track against the run of play.