I saw a death shadow in the eyes of my infancy
a soft mercy with calm blue fancy,
in childhood, when free will asserted it's wild supremacy
we sang of star charriots and laughter loyal to hyperactivity,
I see a death shadow in the prime of my ascendancy
outlining my temple of truth, whistling thy words of wizardry,
I hear It like the madness of morning's ending,
I taste It as if from the burning breast milk of a Dragoness,
I see It in the bleeding smile of my heart's kindness,
I speak to It when love's luster unlocks the lunacy of loneliness,
I feel the humble shade of It's jade justice in a world hot and hustling,
My death shadow has a surface sweet with patient purpose,
It is not rough with forboding frost that frights the fight of flesh,
rattling the scythe of doom and cackling for cataleptic crisis it does not,
It is not a grim God or a greedy Goddess, no taxing terror trumpeted,
It has never been an angel of escape or a demon of dour delirium,
when suffering becomes a seduction of brute beauty I share in it's wise joy,
my death shadow follows the desperate yet disciplined form of my body battle
through life's plethora of coy poisons and possessive passions,
marching along side me with martial grace, sculpting my face with lion spirit -
I sat down to study the Netherlands tried to gather all the scoop
Entering every contest cause I'm new to Poetry Soup
I read all the poetry masters to grow I must surely invest
What I've discovered in almost no time is why Soup poets are the best
Zerbst wrote an anthem with some amazing poetic twist
Made me wish I was from Freisland this sprawling sealand really exist
Dr. Ram wrote a history thesis he even quotes the great Shakespeare
The Netherlands in an Italian sonnet another masterpiece was here
Cornish obviously did his homework in couplet form he holds command
Displays the heart and pride of the people when I read his words I want to stand
Andrea's the Soup contest master so you knew she'd draw her pen
With perfection her ode to Freisland, Ms. Dietrich has done it once again
I could go on with the works on Netherlands a shout out to John, Ralph, and Tim
A descriptive write by Huberta van Akkeren, these odes will make sweet Elly grin
So I learned all about the Netherlands another ode wasn't needed from me
To be proud of this majestic country... May she ever be beautiful and free!
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest Name: Your ode to 'my' Netherlands and/or 'my' Friesland
*Happy Birthday Elle!
Knees under your chin,
Sitting on you bed,
This long night,
your mind in a spin
Sitting on your bed,
What am I?
Where do I go?
Ready to fly
wants to run
The things he had done
Right from the start
That are untrue
These acts you do
Wants to run
The things he had done
Right from the start
This numbing pain
Has come back to haunt me again
Killing all creativity
Bruises and pain
Walked in to the door again
Hate and spite
Try all he might
His promises to me
Now so hollow
This is not what I imagined to be
My heart so wanted to follow
Wants to run
The things he had done
Right from the start
But not what I feel
I am stronger now,
I know how
He can bruise my heart
Not my spirit
I can go
Where he cannot follow
This is where I start
This new start
You are free
Forbidden as the fruit in the garden of Eden,
But is merciless as man's carnal desire.
Similarly ripe and succulent,
And provoking instantaneous salivation,
A desire to taste.
The oasis in a desert of heat and sand,
Quenching the instinctive thirst of man.
The bearer of fruit,
Giver of life,
The garden in which man plants his seed,
And grants the world mortality.
Once a symbol of purity and innocence,
The most beautiful of flowers in a field of many.
Harvesting of such a blossom does not result in decadence,
But instead marks fertility,
And the renewal of that virtue.
Dawning of all existence,
Fulfillment of all desires,
And the divine being of all creation,
Eternally unaware of the power it possesses.
Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable
The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable
(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo
Pictures on a shelf,
Cards with sweet thoughts received,
If I thought I was happy,
I was just self-deceived
Till this day has come,
And with it you,
The most beautiful woman,
That I ever knew.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that reaches for the highest of heights.
I use the clouds as a helpful step to rest my feet as I reach.
Stretching my arms up high, trying to grasp a hold of the stars.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that struggles through the thistles and thorns.
Reaching forward, eyes tearing up as I bleed for the light that will soon be mine.
I use the light's rays as motivational beams, urging me forward.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one who fights through the ridicule and puns.
I fly through the maze of the bombardment of insults and put downs, straight to my prize.
I use the tormenting words as encouragement to later prove them wrong.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that searches for truth.
I wander through a world of lies and tricksters as they try to make me lose focus.
Discovering traps and evading paths of lies by evaluating them with logic and reason.
With every lie evaded, I inch closer to the truth.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am that one, the one who dreams.
For without dreams I am nothing, but a human with no purpose.
And when my dreams are reached, the scars I will wear proudly.
For the struggles I had faced will stand as validation to how much my dreams are worth.
I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...
While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...
Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved
So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving
You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...
Goodbye My Love...
Can I have this hand in marriage dear,
Can you grace me with "I do",
Let the angels sing to Heaven,
Let my heart soar with their tune.
Let us seal our love for we two,
Let no others interfere,
Let Evil, with his one good eye,
Attempt to trick and snare.
Let Age pass on his cares to us,
For bound, we are as one,
We'll ride the heady winds of joy,
Until another song is sung.
Until another song is sung, my love;
We'll drink the drink of fools;
Let passion be our compass,
And a blinding trust our rule.
Let us plant the seeds of new life,
That through Time will resonate,
Let our names be always dear to those,
Who set them on their fate.
From you I do not hide
the fragile, feral man inside,
in your grace I do confide
crown and pride I put aside,
For in your breath love is true
upon your breasts my eyes burn blue,
a face pure as youth I see in you
in our kiss the divine comes through,
I take you with me through the day
into the wild and amongst the fray,
within my heart you will stay
you are my strength all the way...
Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu.
Dedicated to Leonora
A unique and lovely
damsel from the heavens.
Love you so much.
How can Euclidian geometry
Describe such perfect symmetry
Such soft and velvet hills
Of love, and drink, it fills
How can such perfection of bend
Of dune that dips to dimple
Be caressed – not a ripple!
As age has passed by
Untouched, as tips of trees the sky
The blue veins tattooed
Under skin inverse to soot
Inverse to rhyme, sublime!
Warm to the touch, the tongue
The taste, the subtle kiss of peach
Out of reach
The moonlight surrounds the lines
So softly, so sable-brushed
As your sleep smiled breath
My love against soft pillows crushed
In a dark room music plays with a slow beat,
the neon lights make you white panties and bra look like a street.
You move your body slowly and so sexy to the music,
while i look at you threw the darkness of the room set.
A big silver gun on my hip and a mountain of coke on the table,
and nothing can distract me from the beauty i see dancing so stable.
Your every move hypnotizes me,
I think I am going blind cause i am beginning not to see.
I look at your hair how it waves there so perfectly,
your legs move just like i want them to, so delicately.
You touch your breasts and you hold your but,
you give me that look in your eyes like your not wanting to stop.
You unbutton your bra and cover your breasts with your palms,
the music dies down a little and calms.
You walk up to me and than music begins to play,
that's when you start moving your body on top of me and asking me to stay.
You kiss my ear and rub my legs,
your breast rub against my inner pains.
You feel me harder than a rock,
than you decide to grind my cock.
Your body moves so sexy and slowly to the music that i played,
my body is shaking from all the excitement that is payed.
You go in for the big finish, and i tell you to get back up,
cause a lady like you should do all that kind of crap.
Be with me, be with a BOSS,
Who cares if the people i killed ever took a loss.
Dedicated to all the woman of the world.
PS: You are not trash, you are not ......... you are precious jewels. Stay that way ladies. I love you all.
Mysteries of Human Hairs
Hairs, O’ hairs, O’ lovely ravishing hairs,
Fascinating and beautiful, you often resemble,
When nicely looked after and softly taken care of.
Your beauty and elegance has often inspired,
Your softness and shines have captivated many
To put their hearts on fire,
Your aroma can evoke to extremes,
Passion and lust like streams.
The lustrous beauty of these hairs,
Have raised thousands of wars sacrificing millions,
To win only a Helen of Troy and
Even great warriors like Ceasar and Antony became a prey,
Before the killing magic of your arts and flying colors.
Even the ravishing beauties of these hairs,
Have charmed many eminent enemies and warriors
Besides the millions and millions of moving lovers since ages,
Who fall prey to the loveliness of these alluring hairs.
Your graceful presence, has produced men of letters,
Your locks have killed many, in the history of the world,
While many have altered their existence, completely,
To win, the beauty of your hanging hair locks and curls,
Even the dullness of your hairs too,
Have often inspired many wandering lovers and singers.
Hairs, O’ hairs, O’ lovely ravishing hairs,
When you hang, you look like dark clouds,
Playing on the forehead of a woman,
By watching such clouds many get lost,
In the colors of your showering rains.
Many Writers, poets and artists find their inspirations,
Under the love and softness of you O' hairs and
Many have produced things of beauty and joys forever,
While many have found the goal of their life,
In the beauty of your lustrous curls and colors,
What a strange it is, that still many
Would like and love to get sacrificed,
In the enchanting flames of hairs, like small flies forever.
It is also a hard truth of the world and
Of our human life and air that,
Even some saints too have fallen prey,
Before your enchanting beauty and your alluring colors.
Many mighty kings have lost their crown and kingdoms,
In the ever tempting beauty of your magnetic curls and shines,
To get hold of you, O’ lovely hairs.
Kingdoms have fallen like the house of cards and
Even most powerful men of this earth,
Have lost the edge of their swards,
Before the shining, flying and mesmerizing,
Beauty of a women’s hair and its penetrating charms.
What wealth and gems you hide in your treasure,
Making many men and even women,
Mad, before the lovely ravishing beauty of you, O’ Hairs.
Kanpur India 28th Oct 2010
Edited and rewritten on 28th March 2012
She had a gothic heart,
predictability and tamming tranquility were her counterparts,
she felt pain as gain,
peace was nettlesome and purposeless,
an abomination that careless civilization is undeserving of,
life is best consumed in confrontation,
within her magnificent mind God's value gravitated toward the power of volatility,
instability as instinct,
truth is permenance in transition,
Victoria believed that divinity as a mystery unsolved is more exhilerating
than explication or epiphany leading to the extinction
of curiosity's reign,
Victoria knew that law and politics are nothing more than an imposition
by the few heaved upon the many,a yoke of oppressive genius,
Victoria, a child of love betrayed,a woman of courage displayed
thought toughly & tenderly about the potential of mercy,
an enviable Empress,
compassion and kindness were complimentary components
to her dangerous disposition as hawkish talons
may be employed for feeding of fighting,
she developed into a clandestine warrior of natural necessity,
this world would either waste her
or she would wound the witnessed wickedness,
there was no harmony to be hankered for,life is a war of wills & wits,
espionage,diplomacy,truces,tributes and trounces always in the making,
Victoria loved God like a woman loves the anguish of pregnancy,
Victoria had a passion and a pity
for the Creator responsible for her awakening -
Started off so small
Growing so tall
Put Smiles on my face
In my head its Amazing
Hoping you won't be a static
Changing in every great way
Its because my princess growing into
My queen you give me hope
Dignity and self efficiency you
will be someone Great I owe
it to GOD he gave me a princess
growing into A queen
You are my light shining when
I'm in the dark
You make me not
want a father not need one
I got you my princess
Growing into A queen
I'm going to raise you right
Tell you everyday how beautiful
You don't need to hear it from a
You are my princess growing
Into a queen thanking you for
Giving me hope and pride to
What would I do if
I lost you, God forbid
that come true
Your my life when
there is no hope
You give me strength when
There is no time
Princess don't worry you won't
Lose me to drugs,prostitution
Addiction and Eviction
I'm here to stay
Because my princess
Growing into a Queen
I will make Great decisions
Mianna you are my Princess
Growing Into A Queen
I say, too much passion
in us poets, like a touch of a thou
saccharine taste invading our veins,
we cannot restrain,
we cannot condemned the only reason
for our being,
passion is what keeps us breathing,
passion can make us see it all
different than others,
not to cease, not to die
or give-up, passion grows in our soul,
it reminds us it is there
every minute of our day,
when we need to count the hours
to get to him/her.
Passion is the sedative to our worst day.
The essential of reason,
the way to a path,
to rivers and streams that find our dreams,
passion is a vessel making a net
reaching our heart our souls
keeping the beat louder and quieter in waves
frequencies, passion is vigor,
is a sparkle in our heart that continually
beats violently and has no outcome.
Passion is un corazon de Oro.
On this cold and rainy morning I wake to the soft sound of your breathing..
Your chest slowly moving up and down as you are far off in a land of dreams.
I caress your cheek,
careful not to wake you from what seems to be such a peaceful
Your skin so warm and soft against my cold hand,
I close my eyes and I drift as your sent fills my nostrils..
Slowly moving toward those plump lips,
they have been neglected of kisses for too long..
Pressing my lips to yours a small moan escapes me.
I feel your hand carefully move from its place of origin,
on your stomach, to my hip. Urging me closer, the heat rising off your body is so
I can hold back no longer. I plunge my tongue into your mouth, past
teeth, feeling so deep inside as i flick my tongue back and forth.
Soft caresses turn to tight grips, nails claiming flesh, heart pounding.
Moving into position, I climb atop of you..
In my mind
In reality, gasps for air trying to be caught.
No chance of stopping what I've started. Blurs of light shining from across the room,
whispers and panting saying "i love you".
In the end.. both left searching for the
air we had lost, legs unable to move, mind shut down, ecstasy swirling around
Love feast by Steven Hudson
I have looked upon too many scarred, sullen and hard faces these many days.
Loud, crude, gruff men who take and push and fight.
This ship has run its course, sleepless, tossed about,
Every port and harbor, sea and foreign land.
My companions smell and to look at them would make you turn down.
I’m pretty sure I have a tapeworm and my piss is the wrong color.
So my love, when here at last I see your face,
You’re smile, piercing eyes, and silky long hair,
To gaze at you now is a love feast to behold,
And from now and forever you will always be…..
The most captivating golden retriever I have ever seen.
Are your eyes the green of a shamrock's leaf,
or your nose the tide that comes and runs?
Is your skin the plains of pearls and perplexities,
your hair the curtain to a rainforest peace?
Could be your ears the caverns where rarities dwell,
and your shoulders belfries that will never ring?
May your chest be a wound that never swells,
and your heart be the silence that learns how to sing
Is your hand a ten-minute first-light,
your fingers the fleeting moment that stays?
Might your arms ensphere the the broken, the evil, the cold,
bring what ends, for sure, to the prelude, alright?
Your legs and feet, perhaps, lucid dreams and strange fools,
with bizarres and bazaars, eccentricities galore,
Playing with colors, creatures, the cosmos, the rules,
that no matter duration, leave invocation for more?
Your mind calculates, creates, contemplates, is there,
But without You, none of these could ever, ever be.
For without the green of a shamrock's leaf,
the vastest of woodlands would seem nothing but bare.
< oh ode old ode please come to me
illuminate frowned smiles
rejuvenate twinkle in eye
your task steady fast my old ode
your victory renowned thus crowned
soothing as childs teething bisquit
your demeanor captivating
Irony thick, that your drifting brings my dreams.
Your shallow breath contradicts my labored respiration.
In slumber you inspire. In sleep your made to tease.
Yearning for your not embrace, I revel in this bed.
To touch would ruin pleasure, small distance is sublime.
Symmetry defined, in lines subtle yet profound.
To look so long, your pulse captivated my stare.
Ironic that you're sleeping, yet the dream is mine alone.
Satisfaction in my hunger. Sated, in naught but your vision.
As our two shadows meet and new life unfurl.
Death will be undone and the cold of evil maybe draw nearer.
As my greater love for our passion blazes strongest from the softness of a candlelight,
To a velvet fire burning possessively and consumingly with a force to dominate
Yield to me dear if you choose, or stream out of my dry heart hastily,
Lest i take from you till you can give nomore,
Lest i dig within you for treasures to keep, those burried deep.
For inch by inch i am sown to the very shadow you see by my side.
To touch it with soul is to stain within.
To blow like the wind and unfurl darkness within.
It stays by me and tempts in hopes to contaminate my ageless.
There is nothing in this world that i can possibly think of or think of doing to tell you how much I love you.
You are so sweet to me, i can't almost stand it wen you call me handsome and cute, cause it sounds so sweet to me.
If there is anything in this world that you can think of for me to prove my love to you, just name it. I will be all over that in a flash.
Even though we didn't get to see each other for very long cause of my dumb ass, that was still what i wanted to see today really bad. Looking into your BEAUTIFUL green eyes today was like looking into Gods heaven.
The only thing that is missing is your touch on my skin. I probably would not be able to hold it in me and take a hold of you by your waist and press you against me, and than the smell of your hair would turn me on to the BREAKING POINT.
I would start by kissing down your neck and curress your neck with my tong.
Than while curressing your body, I would start slipping my hands under your shirt, and under your bra and upon your perfect titties.
Than i would start pulling your bra and shirt off at the same time and begin kissing your titties. Kiss them all the way down to your belly button and back up to your face.
When i would lift your upon my hips i would carry you to the bed and start kissing you back down your titties and your ribs and your belly button and than an inch lower passed your belly button just to get you a little more wet and wanting.
To Be Continued.
Set for Contest!
...a darling dear of time is when the tick-tock, of the clock stops, during a dancing wind chimes rendition of just how invisible things move me, to write, darling dear a rhyme,
the peak of a mountain top experiencing,
O' darling dear
a love letter,
just one of those things that
of the everlasting.
Coffee in a cup, makes a cup of coffee;
just as an aroma from within, makes the air,
smell of flowers in the spring
...a sweet thing, like sugar cane is to the tasting,
and the tasting is to stirring the dream,
making flavored coffee
a drink in the morning.
I’m walking down the road
With a pocket full of thrills
Trying to retrace my steps
Striving for something real
I’m far away from home
What happened to my friends?
Where did they all go?
I don’t seem to know
I don’t really think I care
They were never really there
When I needed them the most
To help me try to cope
It pains me to say that I don’t need them
I threw away my old clothes for something decent
And it doesn’t feel right
I made some new friends for a reason
I bought some new clothes I wish they could see them
And maybe I won’t feel so bad
The path that I am on
Where it all went wrong
Being cooler than cool
Soon catches up to you
No one seems to know
No one seems to care
I’m lost with out a map
I’m trapped somewhere out here
Passing out in the street
Like a junkie on TV
It’s not what I want
It’s what I end up being
***Thank you poetrysoup.com I've cleaned it up the best I could.***
~La' Luna De' Morte'~
As an scarlet blush,shadows th' land crim'...
She steals sting of death,with 'stonishing splendor
Beaut~full n' ablaze,her ambience flows in wake
Lighting th' air crisp,with her spark'nd kindled kiss
Comforting n' calm,she affords festive delight
Gath'rings 'round her pyres,her children gleam a'glow
Joy~fill'nd laughter,emits gaiety from their pleasance
Swaddled in her aura,'ven th' gloom'd come a'glee
Sweetly n' sound,becometh slumber in her night
Though th' amorous' desires,are th' more frequent for wait
For of Eros' myrrh,she is saturately immersed
Th' senses of her seduction,soothing to feral 'volve
Wholly loyals 'cept her due,ceaselessly crave her 'rrival
When her departure cometh,we lay yearn'd of next loom
Awaiting th' Mother's daughter,so lavish'ly arrayed
An 'ticipated nativity,none comparing so of...
...An Autumn's Full Reap'ng Moon!
Tear me not from Thee apart,
And fill with love, this weakened heart.
Give me hope, I seek to see,
Give me courage to worship Thee.
I give myself in Thy mighty hands,
Shield me in the desert sands.
Hide me from the devil's eyes,
Restrict my tongue from telling lies.
Purify my sinful soul,
Make me always bright and bold.
Encourage me to fight for Thee,
Prepare me for my victory!
My shelves are burdened by heavy, old tomes,
And publications still fresh from the press,
Dime novels and classics fill my small home,
Small bibelots enchant, big bibles bless.
Many were rescued from second hand nooks,
And others are gifts from my cherished friends,
Each of these treasures is precious to me,
Coins of knowledge, my books,
Words that reveal truths and views apprehend,
Such are the pleasures of a library.
An opus whispers in the lilac gloam,
But a mystery winks, so I digress,
For the ghost of Cathy on the moor stroams,
While Atticus sooths Scout, and I confess
that Rhett and Scarlet still kiss in tight crooks,
Hundreds of stories unwilling to end,
Trilogies, reprints and anthologies,
Doorways and windows, my books,
Pages that demand the heart and mind blend
in volumes of soul stirring poetry.
When I need information, text I comb,
And though I could simply a keyboard press,
These hungry eyes prefer to read and roam
old typeset and gild held in a digest.
Clever the authors, oh, how their lines hook,
No matter if they attack or defend,
Their worlds are wider than geography.
Wells of wisdom, my books,
Mine to enjoy, browse and carefully lend,
For I share my riches, passionately!
I feel this jump start,
Then a squeeze in my heart
All because I heard you laugh
Well, any time you laughed.
Beauty beyond reach
So I sulk in solitude of wish
I wish! I wish! I wish!
For in you alone, I cherish
This glorious scent of thine
If I can’t taste,
Let me at least perceive
I am blood of warriors
I am fully man. Not put to quail
Line of ancestral heritage,
Even the enemies’ hail
Who make men’s back staircase
For throne’s ascensions
I am Azungwu!
So my recoil is not fear
But invincible heart piercing spear
I know not how to bear
Your eyes spark like crystals
Its lenses can melt metals
Yet, I desire your kiss over medals
You are “Agbara Nwayi”
Beauty with no equal
Goddesses grumble and drawl
Envious of your exalt
But I cant help it
I prefer your feet
I love the shape of it
You are the last Amazon
I swear it!
The last time rain fell on you
Your silky clothes stuck like glue
I saw the full shape of you
Your twin volcanic cones
Towards me, dangle and beckons
You saw me. We saw us
You knew, you made me hot
You followed my eyes,
It rested on your honey pot
Your land of no return
Giving me a hard on
You looked up and smiled
I breathe in and died
The nation is thrown into grief.
Our national flag is flying at half mast.
Everyone is wearing a sack cloth.
The dangling axe fell on us.
And the mighty has fallen.
Our hearts are filled with dread,
And our eyes as heavy as lead.
Nigeria, Africa’s number one soccer nation,
Has been given a run for their money by the Ghanaians.
Culminating our early exit from the African nations cup.
The green and white jersey that we adore,
Have been dragged in the mud.
These are not the Eagles we have been celebrating.
Or are these Eagles suffering from bird flu,
That they cannot glide.
Their spirit was willing but their flesh were weak.
When we were young, we were strong,
Now we’ve grown but we are weak.
The reputation that took us years to build,
Have been destroyed over night.
Because we went to fetch water with a basket.
The baby has been thrown away with the baby water.
The Midas touch we used to have have been used on us,
Because we could not strike while the iron was hot.
The hunter has been hunted.
And we have fallen from frying pan to fire.
Football has kept us together as a nation for many years.
The Ghanaians has put a knife on what kept us together.
And we have fallen apart.
Once beaten, twice shy.
We hide our faces in shame.
No one is to be blamed.
What is sauce for the goose is also sauce for the gander.
Every dog has its own day and it was not our day.
A soldier lives to fight another day.
And never says never because quitters are losers.
The big question is,
Shall our bones rise again?
Or have we withered like the cursed fig tree.
Only the bowel of time will Tell.
Crucify him crucify him my own declared
Heart a trembling My God so scared
Say who I am the nails I shall feel
Hold back my silence the enemy shall steal
Wounded Oppressed afflicted blows they gave
chosen Apostles runneth into caves
Came I down from far above
created place I am the Dove
Crucify him what's this you say
healed I the sick asketh not for pay
Crucified me while standing and gazing
they all like sheep my children stay grazing
yonder garden where I was betrayed
not one stood with me while I yet prayed
Asked friends will you stay awake
for you see my life they shall take
Gave you life my heart screamed with a sigh
Crucify him is still the reply
Crucify him Crucify him They yelled with glee
ears dull of hearing died I on the tree
Walking away might be the most hardest things for a man to do,
you cant even imagine what that feeling can do to you.
Falling flat on your face would be better than to look shameful,
even walking around naked around the streets would be cool.
But like any story in life goes, there is always that one person that will help you get back on your feet and walk again.
No matter how much you fall, no matter how much you stumble upon a struggle, that person will be there with you till the end.
Give love and thanks to this person who never leaves your side and helps you put a smile on your face everyday.
When the day comes to an end and you know that the person has to go, all you can wish is for your special person to stay.
Mine has walked away on me,
I was so blind that i couldn't see.
She wanted everything for her self, for me to change and be what she wanted me to be,
but i had to let her go and never see this person again, cause it would only be worse in the end.
Writing this is more painful than getting your body tattooed,
writing this is more painful than getting over screwed.
Writing this is more painful than words,
writing this is more painful than razor sharp swords.
No matter how much you try to let it out it just wouldn't come out,
the pain is way to deep and its almost like its tattooed on your bodies gout.
haven't i been hurt enough in this world, i just don't understand why i am being treated like this,
is it cause i am better than you and have nothing to look forward too but my blue and black handkerchief?
The cut was way to deep my dear, you just cant imagine,
i have been cut and bruised for the last time, i can promise you that.
No one will ever touch this body or hurt this soul ever again,
if you wish to try so, go ahead and check it, but before that go ahead and get yourself a casket.
He was renowned for farming
ploughing lands as large as atlantic
but his harvests he keeps beyond the sea
beyond the sea all he got
Down here, his roof leaks
his town roads untared
they make use of his wealth
to paint their town more white
he thinks his wealth is safe
but the value they use
promising him security and secrecy
to shut their mouth from his people
his pots occupied
by cockroach and rats
as had been aboandoned by his wife
his children grow everyday
developing big belly and head
He goes back to use ibeleju as lamp
but he claims to be rich
his children goes fishing to pay their fees
the school fees he has refused to pay
they built a school for their wards
and beg them to look inside papers
nobody pays a penny
those are the people beyond the sea
his wealth is intact
but had been used
times without number for their anuual budget
they beyond the seas
Worms leak his intestine
and his offsprings from six to two
he took their looks to the people
the people beyond the sea
they gave him a name "Malaria"
Malaria took them all
contented he came
carring no less for his kwashiokor wards
His bicycle like buried iron
yet he appears before his kinsmen
to speak in language that tingles
they smirk at him
though the gods let him live
his expliots and wealth
managed and utilized by the people
the people beyond the sea
he claims to be learned
while they have brain washed him
he trusted them
and left our heritage
the gods forbide
our black heritage
that our fathers died to protect
like our brotherly love
that forbade greed
he forgot our maxim
that of Unison
him that our fathers gave the "Ofor"
the Ofor that represents power
power to protect our interest
our black interest
the gods bear us witness
witness of our unquenched suffering
starving in front of plenty
plenty at the so called bank
banks beyond the sea banks
the name for their civilised theft
theft because they use the value
the value of your wealth
to reinforce themselve
the Ofor has fallen
from his hands
the gods has departed from him
but he will not believe
our chambers now lagoons
lagoons from the light shawers
our tables now canoes
and soup spoons paddle
mosquitoes now our pets
nursing our children
our working age amended
starting from 6 to sleep
our heads now bald
not from age
but from fetching water
water from the eden
It does not cast a shadow,
Nor does it judge, mimic, or belittle,
But it is full of emotion,
When expressed, time stands still,
Ubiquitous to society,
And inspired by nature,
More valuable than gold,
But cannot be spent,
More real than the stars,
But cannot be seen nor touched,
It can calm the most incorrigible of people,
And create passion in the most stoic souls,
It remains the same,
But is constantly changing,
And is older than life,
But will never age nor die,
To move by it is beautiful,
But to create it is a gift from God…
Could you support the underdog,
Could you take the poor mans part,
Knight errant could you fight Magog,
Rip out his demons heart.
And when the wrong of evil done
You see the devils part
To give your life to overcome
Be valiant cleave the path?
For our Knights in Afghanistan....
In the twilight of suspended star thunder
where the waking jungle and broken Temple of tradition meet one another
she moves with a panthera prana, pranayama of precise paradise, air of spaceless pleasure,
A lavender Tigress of effortless enlightenment
seeking sensations on the edge of eternity's cremation,
on her fingertips questions and answers dance to mudras of nimble demolition
as the triumph of truth blazes on the tip of her tongue's flavored amusement,
genetics of ginger helix she licks and sticks to the flesh of nude nirvana
limber in the moment of typeless titillation,
becoming an animal of fearless asana,
a creature of chaos prowling along the heartbeat of karma,
Brahma made her beauty from the diamonds of a billion deceased roses,
the ascetics recognize her as a child of Kali, gorgeous and gruesome in vendetta,
for the Brahmins she is a Mother of immeasurable mystery, a kiss on the eye of history,
worshipers whisper the wealth of her shameless and shapeless clarity, as charity of Parvati,
Heirlooms of sun blood and moon love decorate the tender truth of her body,
a garden of webbing galaxies, catching the notions of novas her mandala,
rain romantic in flying fall, plucking the Ganges sitar her mantra,
the movement of melange madness through perfect passion her sutra,
poetry naked on the nerves of nascent love need is her tantra,
chakras uniting to recreate the uncreated color of consciousness, crown her aura,
as the lotus of love blooms blue, she dances on the fragrance of freedom -
I know of a man. A man full of gratitude and humility for all he is and all he has
He has an eternal fault: an obsession to make a difference; to make an impact
To sow where he care not to reap
And give where, he does not get back
To solve a problem not of his making
Standing as beacon of hope in the face of upmost despair
And flow freely like an oasis in the silent desert
Shining like a million stars in the steep darkness
I know of the young-man who
Drank richly of some foreigners’ fount of knowledge
Years ago, way back at an ancient city of the Yorubas
An unsure future was secured, se t on path of greatness
Filled with such wholesome inspiration
He caught a glimpse of tomorrow vision
And before him was set a life mission
Which he pursued with uncommon passion
To start a national social redemption
He with other berthed the ship of change and silent revolution
In business as in charity
At a Lagos unusual port, in Surulere, at Obele community
He with some inspired men and women with pen and white chalk
Walked rather than talk the talk
Breaking the jinx of decades of failure and annual underachievement
Setting loose and dreaming
Another generation of Nigerian graduates
Inspiring many to take up arms of service, destroying
reign of woes of secondary education among the tomorrow leaders
Selflessly in the spirit of giving back
That success baton once received a generation earlier
Now with duty being passed to the future runners
To stop the wanton waste
Of the so called wasted generation
Enlivening J. F. Kennedy age long mantra
‘Not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for her’
If the Americans has Peace Corps reaching the corners of the world
The man and co. decided
Nigerians can have Volunteers Corps reaching the end of Africa
Imbued with the power of one, driven by a unity of one team
Volunteer Corps was brought forth to life
By men and women, grandly inspired
Ahead of the pack, dangling the magic wand of change
With deftly touch and humblest of heart
Is the man called Ademola Aladekomo
He is a volunteer; A volunteer of volunteers.
I thought SUZY was so bright
Tendered hair and a smile delight
Created her RAINBOW to let the world know
only 4 inches small but her personality is quite tall
The Beauty is not so much on the outside but within
Never cared to swear or sex,she was true without
Vanity or Sin
No one but I would offer to carry her books to school
And in turn,said that I was more than a simple fool
A strange inkling that occurs in my brain
LET'S GO TO SCOTLAND,WE CAN TAKE THE 4:00 TRAIN
to escape the taunts and mockery jibe
Here's to you,Suzy..and a sweetness that you try not to hide
I ache for your face so close.
I can still smell you.
Taste your breath.
Feel your fate
Entwined with mine.
This time to come our hardest part
Yet we will bear, abide, adhere
For all our sakes.
Guilt aside i shall value
The moment we had
And close my eyes and relive
Over and over.
Until our future says no.
It's hard really;
To describe you in one word,
But if I had to, you'd be my
Maybe that counts as two words;
So I'll try again,
You are my
But that still doesn't give you justice,
you're always there for me when I need you
You fogave me when I was horrible to you,
And I owe you everything,
Yet I can't tell you
My simple feelings.
Your laugh, voice, are like a melody of angel harks,
Your eyes are like smooth chocolate and honey.
You have a smile that lights my darkened soul;
And if only there was a song I could send your way,
But the best song is the one from my heart,
However, that song is continually writing
As long as you are in my life, it will alwayas be writing,
Because you are;
my gardian angel
A dormant volcano,
Waking from its inactive state.
Rising with the sun,
And aching with an almost hate.
The temperature of the molten magma,
Ever climbing higher,
Not afraid to show its wrath,
And let knowns it's desires.
No obstacle stands in the way,
The mountain is unyielding,
The eruption takes over control,
The volcano's libido stealing.
A thousand times as intense,
As the star that lights our Earth,
As the explosion's taking over,
The mountain's at peaked girth.
The violence as ended,
Again the world is still,
Once more the volcano sleeps,
And will wake up for another thrill.
Poetry and lines,
Wine and mines,
War stories and their lies,
Ladies and size,
My palm wine drinkard friend anid his love for fresh strong wine,
My heathen friend's love for angry roasted swines,
My parson friend and his love for holy ties,
Deep blue skies,
Hot chilli pies,
Warm words spoken as sweet holy lies,
Our passion cries,
See how time flies,
Your sauce and fries,
My throat pries,
I dont know what surprise you wish to present to me as my ultimate prize,
Our foreplayed delay... your emotion compiles,
On me your honour and styles,
Reopening your memoirs and files,
Your animal throes they did hear from miles,
Cannibal blows our waists and smiles,do lets sit awhile,
Our hot breathe alike,
Maybe to take you for a wife,
Or off my life,
Or smile at your strife,
Or mock your sweet laugh,
Or cease to hold to her lovecraft,
Passion,her signs and wonders on her I design,
Compassion,raw passion,satisfaction and her warm smile from her i resign.
You fleet,across my view,
I wait, I sit and its same you I defeat,
How do I tell you as we beat time,
Caught up in these times of bliss like madgoats do we bleat,
Questioning eyes is there something you see?
My charm and smile is there something you miss?
The tingle in our flesh our bodies it heats,
Nearer she shifts,
In my arms she weeps,
Passion up our skins it creeps,
Emotion running up our veins in quick leaps,
My touch its feels and thrills,
In bed our sweet appeal,
My heart you can steal and keep,
I will manage this duplicate that keeps me living still,
Losing ones keys to his control room in JERUSALEM no mean joke,
Her touch my limbs it trips,
Her clutch my feel it heats,
Her blush my soul it heals,
My flesh her soul it needs,
See as she suddenly speaks English,French,Spanish and even Yiddish,
Into my warm arms she sneaks.
when did i first learn that i needed thee
oh that terrible day i spent with out thee
i was like a ship in a desert
as useless as i was wasted feeling came over me
a fish out of water flopping around
with no way to reach water
all i could do was drown backwards
a man in the desert, many days without water
coming to realize
the uselessness of all the worlds riches
the poor child on Christmas Eve
who's parents pockets were empty
yet his heart full of wishes
images of miracles so true in the movies
and in less than 24 hours
his parents night mare arrive
oh sad day and woe is me
for the day i find that i've lost thee
as I lay here beside you looking at your sweet and gentle face
I now know that our chance meeting was destiny in its place
and that our love was sanctioned by God's unfailing grace
I wanted you to know that my love for you is overflowing
and my feelings of contentment are forever growing
as my heart beats for you at a rate that shows no sign of slowing
my thoughts of us together are so profound and so deep
and into that Sea of Love I'm so glad that I did leap
for my heart is now in your hands where forever I hope you'll keep
I clearly remember the day we met and the circumstance
and the first time we saw each other we shared a heated glance
my whole world had stopped and I felt like I was in a trance
across a crowded room yet it seemed like we were all alone
our souls made a connection and we were in our own zone
it was later that I even realized I had let out a lustful moan
into the Sea of Love I'm so glad that I did dive
for the love and care you've given me has helped me to survive
for whenever I'm with you I feel more alive
into the Sea of Love swimming side by side
into the Sea of Love on a romantic journey we ride
into the Sea of Love where our shared faith in God abides
as I lay here beside you of my face you caress
I thank God daily for I know that I've been blessed
for the way that you love me even has me impressed
into the Sea of Love as we happily float along
our relationship is like a rock, solid and so strong
into the Sea of Love where in your arms I'll forever belong
At last, the tiny long
silence broke into the wide air.
Breaking forth with force,
and thus poluting the air.
At last, fear broke into reality
inhaling the dusty air of sorrow.
Life! LIfe!! LIfe!!!
At last, what would become of this reality
t'is feared reality?
The days turned into the nights,
and the nights into the day.
Dislike was sought-after,
becoz, luv'd to be fought-against.
Invariably a difficult task,
could it ever be completed?
poet in flight
writing for a free airspace
keeping the seatbelt on
closing both of his eyes
to let the poem fly for itself
Every breath that i whisper
a single movement of the pen upon paper
giving takeoff from the runway of ideas and rhymes
no one would know who this poet truly be
he uses a 1000 different names to keep him silent and unknown
During this duration of poetic flight
He will write a sonnet or a narrative some night
to describe the feeling of floating away with the air
there aren't any typos nor mistakes to make the reader even care
Look around you at the space between the pen and the wind
Solly! it is so enticing and enchanted to be a Poet's Romantic
picturing the trees with the alphabet
coloring the sagebrush with just the right felt-tip pen
You,the reader,will notice for a time
the perfect serenity of this fable sublime
There aren't any Dirty words or imagery,my pet
to hover forever,near the 747 jumbo jet
Creating the space
Tracing with each Finger
The Flight of the Poet
whose ode to the old stanza will forevermore linger
Glistening blonde hair
and a Golden smile
Sweet as a strawberry
Well worth the extra mile
Beautiful as a warm summer's day
Glowing like a shining star
Full of energy
She will go very far
Waiting and wondering
Smiling and enticing
Love of Poetry
Makes her the icing
Lots to do and
Young of life
When all is finished
She will be an exquisite wife
Smart and funny
She could go for
all the money.
Just take your time!
my feet have been washed with your dirty hands,
all your golden chariots have been crushed in foreign lands,
the prince and the pauper were at one time the same,
is deception your road to glory and to fame,
no it is merely the path to your downfall,
made change for a dollar but it's done too late to call
// once you were the light of my soul,
but in your presence no longer does it glow,
for I have seen truly by my own sight,
and your love for another I will not fight,//
hold me close and whisper in my ear,
I promise you I cannot hear,
blasting my way out of this bind,
it's clear you're not the faithful kind,
got a thrill to chase,
and your just a little out of place,
running uphill to get down,
and still the treasure cannot be found
eventually the well rums dry,
answers run out no reason why,
I have served your sentence,
for you there is no repentance,
out to sea I let the current carry me,
as long as you remain on ashore I am free
Has my heart been so blind?
Oh sweet lies set me free
Have I been mislead?
Does the sun not rise every morn?
Am I daft so?
Have I misinterpreted your sweet tokens?
Does the moon not shine with the sprinkles of stars?
To flee from this misgiving praise you so effortlessly set me a blaze with
I have become the jester at the king’s table and you the fable teller
Such childish games you play with ones fragile heart
Oh speak my divine conquest please I implore you seek out the blade you so
cunningly stab me with when I was not looking
I am the fool’s errand, you bested me, and now I shall die forever in my lonely
22 years ago when i was 22 and you were 44
could we have had the same dream
the same heart
the same feelings on a dance floor
could not Cyrano teach me to score
me,the man in the iron mask
on the other side of the door
could not Shakespere live just once more
and render a sonnet that would open that door
then i would beacon Orpheous to sing
of the love he lost in Hades forever more
it is to hear a song so sweet
a short verse so compleat
with a feeling so neat
that i would sweep you off your feet
then we would dine at loves feast
Subjective to the eyes upon words, poems are never
the same twice.
Quiet as snow fall you revealed the truest form of a self centered
Leaves fall in a similar pattern to unfamiliar words being recited
around an ever-
trusting ignorant society. Perhaps the "Road not Taken" is where
i shall resign
my poetic beliefs and live as a reborn gust of wind, blowing lives
directions. I have taken the time from time which has already
escaped my life
and given it too less of a friend, which became more of a burden.
out in every direction giving reason for blame when blame insults
essence of my reflection. One star permanently blazed into an
empty sky can
depend on me like clockwork, for I am the first to call criticism upon
"Frost" in the
winter. If it were truly that simple then the pen would lose it's importance
tool of our trade. Who said that brilliance was not born,
only created through
practice? Then would be the time too call yourself gifted.
A lifetime is lived "For
once, Then Something" and until time is chosen none will be revealed.
world; the sun will not shine without the loss of the moon,
the rain only falls upon
broken smiles, and the breeze is never as cold as "Frost".
The hunter looking for his prey
took refuge on his tree
waiting – waiting – she on the way?
(The prey was you – the hunter – me.)
The huntress looking for her prey
took refuge in her bush
waiting – waiting – night and day!
(The prey was I, you in no rush.)
Two victims crossed that single road
directions: East and West
Hunter, Huntress, waiting to unload!
(Each waiting for the one – the best.)
The Hunter’s arrow found the heart
prey’s blood between the hips
bleeding, bleeding – poisoned dart!
(The prey still prayed – from dying lips,)
The Huntress flung her snagging net
confused her helpless mark
spinning, twisting – the trap was set.
(Quiet, he lay waiting for the dark.)
By black of night, you bled to death
the arrow piercing through,
and I, the Hunter, lie still, no breath.
(Entangled in the web of you.)
they wear it as Afros, locks, braids and curls
they wear them as wraps, as perms or relaxed swirls
a woman's crowning glory
in a chignon, a bun or a ponytail draping down
short, long, kinky or bushy all around
upsweeps, page boys, flips or straight as a board
wigs, weaves or extensions whatever they can afford
a woman's crowning glory
be it colored gray, black, brown, blonde or simply red
a woman's crowning glory, the hair on her head
For you starless nights stretch out
and scare away the morn
And yet it's you who tint and tinge,
who paint and adorn
Every thread and strand that you stitch
and loop with the years
Into the fine fabric of Life, Love,
Death, it appears...
As you daydream nights at the seam
of a seamless shore
Sketching the now and tomorrow,
spinning yarns of yore
Beneath borderless horizons
of the ocean skies
Till love knows no more your heart,
till sight disowns your eyes.
Inspiration is found in the gift that is given from the soul. It iminates and
resonates as drums beating and nature singing bring forth swift sound
movement and rhythm to the inner being.
It is often initiated silently so attention is not focused on the giver of this gift but its
Inspiration is found in the laughter at one's self over the life led and the things left
behind are now quietly amusing. Some small memory now brings a smile as the
thought transpires into imagery and if note worthy, is transformed to prose put
down by pen to paper and if found - even much later - shall bring as much joy to
the reader as it first did to the writer.
Inspiration, like beauty, is too found in the eye in the beholder but not so much for
the joy rested upon the sight of the onlooker but the inward delight brought on
partaking in the wonderful exchange of words held captive in intense
Inspiration is found in far off lands where watching growth and development
seem surreal and suspended and yet touches the heart so indepthly that its as if
you too were right there, joined at the hip, at the hand or even more importantly at
Inspiration is found in breathtakenly simple parts of humanity that are often
overlooked - until it is too late, often underrated until the world embraces it or
denied until someone takes notice and simply loves it.
Inspiration is found in the faces you seek to love, love to see and leave you
forever seeking more. Both now and tomorrow, inspiration once again has
embraced my heart through the soft spoken of one such inspirational,
Inspiration - I give you Maya Angelou.
You make me happy
when I feel sad
You turn my frown upside down
When my day is bad
Thinking of you
Puts a smile on my face
And every new day together
Makes you impossible to replace
I had stopped believing
Through lies and deceiving
That I could give someone my trust
But with you I feel
Emotions so strong and so real
That this could turn into more than just lust
But don't get me wrong
Even though my emotions are strong
I feel scared
And still want to hide
Guys before have made me smile
Then made me cry in a little while
And wrenched my heart out from the inside
In the past
And in the time before
Tears have rolled down my cheeks
And found their way unto the floor
Then my legs ran
And my feeling's I would hide
And the words that I spoke
Quited the screaming inside
But now my legs have stopped running
For they've brought me to find
A person who make me comfortable
Like I can relax and unwind
You are old I am young
You have love I have none.
"Look. Look at those flocks of birds emigrating south!
They’re escaping with regular wing beats, crying farewell."
Tomorrow would be a good day to die
Today a good tomorrow
Dying must be strange, nonsense life is strange
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
I never hoped you would accept an invitation to my farewell party
We wait for nothing yet nothing will come
Yes, like Fassbinder
Yes, like Veronica Voss
I owe my soul to the company store
Finishing Line Press. Book FAREWELL TO THE DUST, by C. S. Leaf avalible March 2008
Noodles, noodles, I love Noodles,
make me happy every day.
Run down my throat like
with smells of heaven in
Oh noodles, noodles, what would
with out you to save
Life is harsh and shows
me no sympathy.
You are my saviour and
I feel safe with you
by my side
Youll always be a
part of me
till the end of time.
Noodles, dear Noodles,
you are always mine.
Rhythm, beats, tunes.
Oh how they please the longing ears
with their sweet melody.
Come, sadness, for you will be chased away
by the harmony that lives happily in my soul,
like an unborn baby resting inside my stomach.
Stay back, tension, for you will not win the fight against the soothing notes,
floating in an ocean throughout my mind.
Come, anger, for the colorful music of my heart
will hinder you from the evil plans
of your black, tuneless heart.
Leave us, fear, for the brave melody in my life
brings me power and strength
to overcome the many obstacles you have purposely set in my path.
Keep playing, beautiful tune, for I now lazily lay back,
each ear keenly engulfing the rhythmical sound of my favorite song.
The music shall shield me everyday,
like a father protects his daughter from the heartless, unkind world.