More Knowledge, More Ignorance, poetry by Lanre Badmus at Spillwords.com

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More Knowledge, More Ignorance

Lanre Badmus·May 12, 2025

Poetry English

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More Knowledge, More Ignorance

written by: Lanre Badmus

A radical and random thought up my sleeves.
With wisdom, I want to willingly weave.
An idea intensifies in my inner subconscious.
Anticipating my art, I leave my readers anxious.
Sensitizing just one stanza to speak my mind.
On this, no single truth will be left behind.
Answers about life will often lead to questions.
There’s never an end to earthly concessions.
More knowledge seems like more ignorance.
Men’s minds and curiosity are in an eternal romance.

About
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Lanre Badmus

I am Lanre Badmus (the poetic assassin). Author of four books published in the United Kingdom and Nigeria. A legal practitioner per excellence.

Suman Pokhrel

Suman Pokhrel is a Nepali poet, lyricist, playwright, translator, and artist. He debuted in 1999 with a poetry collection and has since published works, including translations of Shakespeare and global poets. His poems are translated into many languages and taught across South Asia. A two-time SAARC Literary Awardee, he also received Asia’s Inspiring Poet Award and was named Author of the Month by Spillwords in June 2023. Beyond literature, he works as a freelance consultant in socio-economic research, rural development, entrepreneurial development and creative writing. He began his career in Nepal’s civil service and later worked with international NGOs. He holds degrees in Science, Law, Business Administration, and Economics.

Condoms by Seán Óg Ó Murchú

They all laughed at me. All the dinner ladies. It started with your one, I’m after forgetting her name now… Smelly Nelly’s ma. A wet little tear trickled toward her tattooed cheekbone. She was roaring red. Her harsh, wheezing laughter sounded like a black taxi tackling the Whiterock Road, her throat destroyed from all the fegs she used to be hoofing into her. She called over the other dinner ladies then, an army of them. Or maybe it was the curiosity of her horrid laughing that brought them over… I can’t remember.
“Tell the girls what you’re only after asking me there ni wee mawn.”
I looked between herself and the girls. Jesus Christ, I said in my own mind, Mental Mick is after stealing all my crayons that I’d been hoarding for myself there before the break...

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