FEELS LIKE DÉJÀ VU

 

This feels like déjà vu,
A road I've walked before,
The same darkness greets my eyes,
The same waves kiss the shore.
Were we chase tomorrow's promises,
Yet borrow yesterday's pain,
We lose, we heal, we hope again,
Still dancing in the aching rain.
 
Dejavu; a Friend close to my heart.
A bond shared not in doubt.
We ran the race from Poly to Glory.
A dream we carried, but now seemed stolen.
Every time spent together was in splendor.
I'm so glad to share our beautiful story of grandeur.
We had a similar family structure.
Same parental occupational struggle.
We believed in one another
Bounce by bounce we doubled the hustle.
Our days in school was fun and glorious
You are the social part of me, a partying type never furious.
We studied together also chasing the ladies.
We set the standards for the sophisticated babies.
I remember them always asking if we were blood brothers,
I will laugh asking if it’s because our eye balls are big and broader.
 
 
Though my painful tears fall today
But they are born from gratitude.
Having a friend like you was one of life's greatest gift
Always with a positive attitude.
Your loyalty was undoubtedly pure
A comrade ever faithful, ever sure.
Your dance step was nice and funny
Your acapella voice, a sound of honey.
You gave us joy with your leadership stubbornness
A grateful heart with hopeful willingness.
A tough guy you are, with a soft heart
You shared your love and impact on earth.
 
Deji, you spent your life leaving a positive mark.
A legible print in the sand of time.
You gave your all to life’s course.
A jolly good friend you are to everyone.
But unfortunately; fate spoke too soon,
Stealing you before your time, (Gone too Soon)
Leaving behind questions with no answers
And a silence too heavy for words thereafter.
Guy, your death is so hard to accept
The man I knew so well, now lives in memories,
Painfully looking through your pictures in my gallery
The friend I expect to grow old with,
Left suddenly on the heavenly journey without a hint.
 
 
But I choose to remember you well; my homeboy,
Not by the way you left
But by the countless days you truly lived.
Your leadership in every situation
Either in the classroom, boardroom or on the dance floor
Everywhere, your influence is always with a high score.
You used the stage well at every page
You were the smile that brightened every room,
The life of every gathering,
The friend who never needed an invitation-
To make ordinary moments unforgettable.

You are always full of life.
Truly, your kind is irreplaceable.
 
Perhaps life’s déjà vu is not a trick the mind has spun,
But a metaphoric wisdom whispering softly to us all.
Let’s Live each day with purpose,
because tomorrow is never guaranteed.
Make peace where there is conflict, forgive while you have the chance,
And let your actions reflect the values you want to be remembered for.
Knowing; We cannot choose the day we leave this world,
but we can choose the kind of life we live before the day comes.
 
Rest peacefully, my dear brother and friend.
‘’AYODEJI SOLADEMI’’ (Skibaa)
Your laughter and baritone voice will continually echo in our hearts.
Your friendship will never be forgotten
And your memory will remain a light-
that time can never dim.
Until we meet again my homeboy,
You may be gone from our sight
But you will never be gone from my heart.
ADIEU!!! Dejavu
 
Yommybishop......July 2026

Tribute to a brother and Friend……Ayodeji Solademi (Dejavu) Skiibaa

Who passed to Glory on Wednesday 15th July 2026 after a brief illness.

KING OF MALICE

Don't be a King of Malice.
Keeping Malice is a way of intimidating your partner emotionally.
When you keep Malice in a relationship, 

You are only killing the Friendship.
Malice kills intimacy and fosters hatred.

The harshest battles are not fought with swords,
But in the heavy, bitter space of words,
Or in the suffocating quiet where
A thousand unspoken resentments fill the air.

Two souls who promised once to stand as one,
Now turn away as if the light is gone.
A slammed door echoes in the dead of night,
While petty grudges hide the memory of light.

They share a room, yet they sleep apart.

They share a table, yet they dine apart,
With icy armor shielding every part.
The silent treatment—sharp and cold as stone
Is meant to make the other feel alone.

They build a fortress out of pride and spite,
Where shadows conquer every ray of light.

Don't be a King of Malice,
Malice is the intention or desire to do evil, 

To cause emotional injury, or upset the other. 
It stems from active ill will, bitterness, or a hostile impulse.

Poison doesn't always need a cup,
Sometimes, it’s just the things we swallow up.
The stubborn will to never yield or bend,
Turns every sweet beginning to an end.

Yet underneath the silence and the pride,
A desperate yearning lingers deep inside.
To tear the heavy walls of malice down,
And trade the bitter thorn for friendship’s crown.

Malice is an unseen trauma

People that keep it are always in for drama.

They don't like to be corrected, 
They believe they're right and never wrong. 
They create a defensive silence of emotional wall.
They find it hard to apologize when they are wrong 

And also find it hard to forgive all along.

Don't be a King or Queen of Malice.

Malice will only destroy you and your relationship.

That silent treatment is an evil gesture.

Evil always destroy even itself in nature.

Stop the urge of retaliation, it only worsen situation.

Don't push your partner to find succor elsewhere.

Seek trauma Therapy, and you will become Happy.

THE ART OF SOUND

Give me that sweet sound

As I play you with my fingers

Running different scales and notes

On the strings tight on bolt.

The rhythm of the season

Is what gives me every reason

To pour out emotions 

And strike every chord with caution. 

The sounds you produce at my every touch

Gives me the confidence not to rush.

The vibrant vibration, gives a willing player liberation.

Cos your sound is powerful

Your tonic sofa reinvigorates me like tonic water.

Close to the heart you are like a Violin.

Hard, yet soft and silky 

A victory sound so milky.

Give me that sweet sound.

As I play you with my both hands.

Holding you close and tight, makes me feel all is right.

You are the best sound after the Organ

Which produces sounds through the pipes.

It gives orgasms at highest scales 

The pinnacle of every playing stage.

Let this Opera be mine

As I bend you to my submission.

Let's create the art of music

With mass orchestra at our grooving 

Let's tell a story through sound

Gaining momentum as our love abounds.

The purest heart cut in size.

It's the heart of musing,

The art of sound.

Yommy Bishop...... 29th Feb 2026

ARE YOU BITTER OR BETTER.?

 

WHEN 2 BEST FRIENDS FIGHT BITTER

Amazing story about these 2 great ladies who are high flyers in their professions and are good friends. People envied and loved their friendship and how they both collaborate to create a wonderful moments.

Unfortunately, they could not manage themselves when it comes to misunderstanding and conflict resolution. They implode due to pride, hearsay, unhealthy competition, misinterpretation of intentions, and most times, hidden jealousy which is a common factor among women.

Women always attach sentiments and ego when in a conflict situation, they will sense disrespect and betrayal at the same time. They assume what is not there by awfulising what is not awful. They ride on their emotions, yet both parties will never agree to their own wrongdoing (grandstanding). The more outsiders try to resolve their fight, the more it becomes messier. 

In the situation of good friends. it's only the Holy Spirit that can minister to their hearts to Forgive and move on after a serious disagreement (which they might classify as betrayal). To err is still human and to Forgive is divine. They should both know the DEVIL does not love beautiful and peaceful places, he will always want to find a way in their midst. Yes; It's okay to have misunderstanding but never okay to dwell on it. Because an unresolved conflict will always lead to bitterness. 

Bitterness, however is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. It harms you more than anyone else. Bitterness is like a cancer, the bible advises in Ephesians 4:31 "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice"

So, in any situation of conflict with a friend or family member, lets always make love, not war. Lets forgive one another. Mark 11:25, also states: "And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive your sins".

Remember, you either get BITTER or you get BETTER. ❤️

Yommybishop....... 28th August 2025

A CASE STUDY OF ALASEYORI AND APEKEOLA. 

TOTAL STRANGER.

 

Last night, I slept with a stranger,
I woke up confused, like a soundless thunder.
How could this be.?
An alien by my side, with no emotions attached.
She won't speak my language, not even get on my page.
She won't explain how, she became now.
Darkness all around, Cloud of stormy weather
Unnecessary all together
What a lost feeling, the emotions she's killing.

It hurts the most when the person that made you feel special yesterday makes you unwanted today. 

Strangers can become best friend just as easy best friends can become strangers.

Last night, i slept with a stranger
I hope I'm not in danger.?

Yommybishop (26th June 2019)

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BACK TO THE ROOT

My journey back home after several years over the weekend was an eventful one. It seems the burial of our Big daddy is a big deal all of a sudden. Driving from Lagos straight to Osun state was not an easy task, especially driving on a crazy road of ours. The most difficult part was the Lagos/Ibadan Express way which already has a wave of undulation like a stormy sea, now I support the Federal government sack of Babalakin (Bi-Courtney) from the job after several years of the award. 

The journey to Ibadan was pretty slow due to extra bad road and Tankers taking over. Ibadan/Ife Express was not any way fair, potholes are found in most sections though not everywhere. Driving here is a bit calculative; maneuvering can only be done by professional drivers like us without bursting tires or running the car out of track. I still wonder why Ooni’s RCC construction was given part of Lagos/Ibadan express renovation considering the bad quality of work they did on Ibadan/Ife.*** On getting to Ife toll gate bypass, I decided to buy bread and Akara (Bean Cake) which has always been the tradition snack whenever we go home. The Akara hawkers gathered round the car like legion of ants with paper wraps of Akara almost breaking the car window but at last I was able to buy from a young lady who grin and say “thank you sir” with a dialectic tone. I got some bottled water for myself and those with me in the car before zooming off. 

The journey from Ife/Osu bypass to Ilesha was smooth, I had to engage the jeep I was driving into an automatic cruise on a speed of 130km/h enjoying the refreshment and the softly oozing music of Wizkid. After I drove pass Ilesha I noticed my steering wheels was hard but I kept on with my drive. When I got to Owena after God slightly saved me from an accident around JABU University with a crazy oncoming trailer because I couldn’t turn my wheels in haste, I decided to check my engine thinking it was the transmission oil, little did I know that the fan belt running the engine had removed. Thank God the belt and Boris were lying on the engine floor; all I needed was a mechanic. After spending like 4 hours in the mechanic site, I was set to go, but I had to cancel my earlier planned journey to FUTA Akure because we are already running late for the Wake-keep ceremony.

After the candle light session, I started relating with my lost but found cousins and Uncles, we chatted a while before I moved to our family house. Nothing has changed in the house only that it is old. My dad’s picture in his prime and some of his siblings are still found hanging on the wall also grandma and grandpa’s pix during their chieftaincy days even after there several years of demise. The pendulum clock is no more working but still stand hanging, looking at it I could still hear its ding sound after striking every hour on Xmas when we are little kids, grandpa’s black and white television still sit gently on the stool dirty and wreck, so also the chairs. My aunty led us in praise and worship, my uncle a pastor led the thanksgiving prayer while my Dad cap it all with his prayer as the family head. We ate original pounded yam wrapped in leaf with okro soup and fresh vegetable with bush meat, it all brought back the memories of times spent here with our grandparents during Christmas with my siblings and little cousins, that’s the only time we usually come home. But after the death of both grand parents long ago, Christmas as always been celebrated at our individual place of residence.

Now here I am in my root, I still can feel the cold weather and fog in the morning, the ijesha dialect still flies around me even though I can’t speak but I enjoy hearing it, I still can see the goats littering the floor with their feaces and the chicken running around with their chicks, I still can hear the bell of St.Pauls Cathedral the family church we attend every Christmas period. The taste of the food here is fresh, I’m proud to be from this end. (Ipetu-Ijesha, Osun State.)

Yommybishop.....(4th December 2012)