(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
Who am I?
W-eaned from tender
age,in noble family of ten.
H-urt by the demise of
the tube that brought
me into this theater of
struggles and pains.
O-rdered about by the
whimps of this
world,facing the hurdles
of life daily from
cradle,never giving up
A-fine young man of 28
I am,who has the
experience and wisdom
of the aged.
M-astering the arts of
life-learning from lessons
of life's victims and
didactic poems 'cos man
of fame I intend to be for
I bear the name Bob.
I-lost my poetic gift at a
stage but recovered it in
poetrysoup for invisible
entities say a
lesser being I shall be,but
another encourages me
to move on,for great is
one who comes out of
the shackles of life
undeterred for this is who
Name: Ifeanyi Bob
CAPCHA - PCRM
Perhaps, it was only my imagination
Creatures in the verdant greenery
Ready to pounce on leafy aspirations
Mirrored, starlike, in garden scenery.
Is this about the refuge life,
Leaking the essentials of being submissive…
Or shall the death defy your conscience
In being a human
Imagine the world without eyes
That sans a tiger, a cuckoo, and humanity
Kill the trees, dethrone the kings of jungle
For it seems the idea of thy existence
And now shall thou laugh,
Splintering the grins of progress
A time shall come
even thy smile will be pungent
“I wish” reiterates itself
In an infinite loop
To the screams and knuckles
Of a blemished self-indulgence
Your sanity goes beneath the surface
So does thy shelter
Thy mother nature you seek’d to conform,
To captivate and disassemble
The one that thou sought as a humble alimony
Comes back to seek the answers of questions that were long forlorn
And you’re numb for thy dumbness
so hapless you are
Here goes the world in tatters of pride
and you wait for thy death
lips closed and eyes open wide….
IF your journey feels so heavy
YOU don't know what to do
NEED someone in the ready
A brother to pull you through
FRIEND dry your tears I'll be steady
I am never going to leave your side
SAILING with you on stormy seas
RIGHT now, and always forever
BEHIND to catch when you need me
LIKE an angel you can count on
A rock to comfort in uncertain times
BRIDGE of hope I'll cross to rescue
OVER the years when life doesn't rhyme
TROUBLED friend who's down and out
WATERS won't drown, It's time to shine
I will lay it all down to keep you sailing
WILL see you embrace dreams one day
EASE your sails friend your getting closer
YOUR almost there you've found your way
MIND now relax that's success your inhaling
Contest: Bridge over troubled waters
Sponsored by: Roy Jerden
T-ake my hand sweet doll,
R-un with me,till we are
O-n our way to love spot.
U-ntill the sun goes down
B-enders of time we be
L-oving eachoda without
E-nd till we turned to mist
Iwas moved by different
attempts some wonderful
poets made. It spurred
me into action.
Hope It was well penned.
Can I really write something astounding, grand, and glorious?
Reality should be a part of all I consider when approaching a theme.
Events often drive and form the poetic fabric of what we write about.
Avenues of passion and emotion pervade our conscious thoughts.
Taking our thoughts, fantasies, metaphors to the readers are essential.
Instigating or arousing excitement makes verses interesting to read.
Viewing themes from a detached perspective gives us variety in discourse.
Every idea or theme is considered fair game when we poets write.
Poetry is a sublime medium for relating themes to human circumstances.
Rigid ideas and concepts can be artistic with the right nuance and metaphor.
Onomatopoeia is expressive sound imitation of words used for poetic effect.
Creativity forms the very warp and woof of what we do as poets and writers.
Exceptionalism is an attitude helpful to poets as we focus on what is unique.
Syntax is the structural medium for how we write and express ourselves.
Sensitivity is an attribute essential to how poets evaluate their themes.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved - May 1, 2015
*This poem appeared in my new book with a release date of February 7, 2015
I am a new creature
I am a new creature
So it a new world
The old world is passed away
It colorful lights fades away
But after the floods a new plant grew
And the birds flew
The nights are gone
The shinny day has come
The darkness is gone
And the lights has come
New ideas and new ways
It a new faith and a new face
We are in the modern days
I am a new creature
I am born again
Death. A bright beacon in a sea storm
Endowing warnings of rocky shores.
"All hands on deck!" vessel now prepared;
The time-driven waves directing it
Homeward, no matter the ships technique.
"...I can feel my insides rotting..."
Little or large, it doesn’t matter
Illumination makes everything seen
Gains the fear of darkness
However condensed it captures a corner
To reveal, stand out and dominate
We big spending
Vexed by the simpler,
Early lifestyles of our ancestors;
Remember that there is a cheaper way to do everything.
Year after year, they survive
On the ways of nature;
United by their beliefs;
Rare though, they may be.
Only by the simplest methods,
Madness attended, donning grayish, flowing robes
Over the seductive scent of humid lust,
Rippling through the ghost like flash dance
Needy with the thirst for sun’s fulfillment.
Insatiably moistening pursed, begging, lips
No longer coy vixen, playing cat and mouse but
Greedy harlot - opening – awaiting - seeking
Breath of morning lights false dawn,
Rekindling lust’s longing after sunset affair.
Ecstasy, trembling beneath the thinning robes,
Awaiting the tantalizing touch, the golden
Kiss, the full lipped brush of day’s forgiveness,
Soothing love’s ache as Morning Breaks.
John G. Lawless
for Francine Roberts
Summer Acrostic contest
Written by: Unique Poetry 2015...This only Reflects those whom are Not with a Disorder they just are Hateful Humans....