Obilade Peiyi | Walking Poetry | Nonfiction
I first heard this phrase, “walking poetry,” from a song by a Nigerian musician, Asake, called Basquiat.
Walking poetry. What does that even mean?
The song was catchy and the lyrics were even better, but this phrase absolutely gripped me. I thought it was deep; still, beautiful, and laced with enigma. I thought, “I want to be walking poetry too” …but what is it?
I think the most beautiful people are the people who have depth; people who think and overturn things, not too much, but just enough to break the surface. If everyone thinks about things the exact same way, where’s the difference in perspective? Where’s the depth? Where’s the proof that we truly believe our claims?
I always thought that to be deep was to be dark, mysterious, and broody, but I think that’s because of how it was portrayed. The deepest people in all the A-list shows and best-selling novels were always the broody, hurt, shadowy kind of character, and it made me want to be like that. Honestly, ask my friends.
I’ve always wanted to have a different perspective, to not be so typical and predictable. I’ve always loved the idea of being different, of actual depth. And I’ve studied to understand that I don’t need some deep, dark traumatic experience to see the world with intensity and nuance. I don’t need to overanalyse every sentence or situation to be deep. I don’t need to invalidate other people’s feelings because they’re “too shallow” to be deep.
To be deep is to live beneath the surface of things. It means refusing to accept life only as it appears and instead asking why. Why people act the way they do, why certain moments linger, why pain teaches and joy transforms. Depth is the quiet habit of reflection, the willingness to sit with discomfort long enough to learn from it, and the courage to face truths that are not always convenient. A deep person is not loud with insight but rich with understanding, carrying meaning formed through experience, thought, and honest self-examination.
Depth also shows in how one relates to others and to the world. It is the ability to listen without rushing to respond, to see complexity where others demand simplicity, and to hold empathy without needing to fix everything. Being deep does not mean being heavy or withdrawn; it means being rooted. Such a person moves through life with intention, aware that words have weight, actions have consequence, and every moment carries layers worth noticing.
I want to be walking poetry too. I thought about it; analysed it.
Poetry is an expression of thoughts and emotions in a way that ordinary sentences often cannot. Poetry is a way of paying attention. It notices what is usually overlooked and gives it weight: a silence, a memory, a question, a moment of beauty or pain. A poem may be short, but it can hold layers of meaning, inviting the reader to feel, reflect, and discover something new each time they return to it.
To be walking poetry is to be a moving embodiment of insight, depth, and understanding. Beauty in what seems otherwise. To see beyond the surface of most things, yet know when to input and when to withhold that insight. It is to hold personal meaning and help people find it. To bring a new and abstract feeling, an indescribable scent. To be and give exclusively what no one else can; that’s what it means to be poetry.
To be beautiful in and with yourself. To love and be loved wholly.
To smile brightly and cry freely. To express in ways that no one else can.
To live like art and love like it.
Like one big abstract painting, unplanned and unrestricted, smiling and dancing to whatever song plays next.
To be walking poetry is to be a moving embodiment of insight, depth, and understanding. Beauty in what seems otherwise. To see beyond the surface of most things, yet know when to input and when to withhold that insight. It is to hold personal meaning and help people find it. To bring a new and abstract feeling, an indescribable scent. To be and give exclusively what no one else can; that’s what it means to be poetry.
To be beautiful in and with yourself. To love and be loved wholly.
To smile brightly and cry freely. To express in ways that no one else can.
To live like art and love like it.
Like one big abstract painting, unplanned and unrestricted, smiling and dancing to whatever song plays next.
Oluwapeiyibomi Obilade is a Nigerian writer and storyteller with a love for stories that transport, immerse, and connect. Drawn to the beauty of everyday moments and the complexity of human emotions, she writes to explore what it means to belong, to grow, and to be understood. She is currently studying engineering and spends her time reading, writing, and dreaming up new worlds.