Froth and foam, time and tide...
Ah, the motion of the ocean.
‘Tis the source of my heart's longing,
The place of my soul's belonging,
With it's push and pull...
Ebb and flow.
As time and space go rambling on...
At your shores, the same time and space
Your maker and mine exalted...
By your push and pull...
Ebb and flow.
At times I find myself longing,
To become one with you,
And your knowing of life's beginnings,
Both old and new...
And the days and years of all your learnings.
To find myself wrapped up,
In your fathomless embrace,
In all the ways you have kissed me,
With the currents of your passion…
Your endless days, the mystical fashion,
Of your push and pull...
Ebb and flow.
Yet how shall I fathom,
Your unending endlessness?
And how shall I counter,
Your impartial fury?
Most certain am I that it will bury,
All that is and leave no trace,
Of that which is and was to come.
For man who is blind, sees only your wealth,
And not wholly that,
But that which he deems
Till you, left naked and raped, rise...
To reprove us, to open our eyes.
Only then do we see,
T'was meant to be,
That you, and I and we,
Are made as one.
And as to you, unto us is done.
Thus to us is done for sure,
Till blindly stumbling we find this cure:
That those who shall possess you,
Shall do in setting you free.
And to them is your grace,
To them is your passion,
The depths of your soul and the endless fashion,
Of your timeless, enduring mystery.
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What we Read, is Where we Go...
The sea gathered her voice
on the crest of the waves
as dark clouds were herded
by the wind as he raved
in a symphony orchestrated
through elements of sound
composed by the air
from his drafty compound.
By the drum of the surf
on the beat of the waves
a crescendo that climbed
with the sea as she raged
while the wind as the maestro
pulled pockets of sound
from the whistles and moans
as he swept ‘cross the ground.
Soprano! cried the killdeer
Tenor! screeched the gulls
as a baritone foghorn
boomed from the hull
of a ship that swayed
drunkenly atop of the surf
staying clear of the breakers
that crashed on the turf
The ship creaked a response
as it groaned a refrain
but the deft hand of a shipwright
would keep it sustained
for he’d hewn and he’d whittled
great emblems of love
carving an angel for the figurehead
and atop the masthead, a dove.
When the wind stopped his jostling
and the sea spent her ire
the ship slipped back to its haven
of warm hearths and bright fires
where the men mused and wondered
over great tankards of ale
if the hymns and hosannas..
had been but, the wind in the sails?
When lost in the Aegean Sea, I heard a song afar from my sails;
Blinded by the fogs, I sail to the direction of that voice.
Guided by the sweet voice and arouse by the melody, I followed the path of which I knew not,
And found myself drifting ashore a foreign land.
Haul by the passing mist; I saw a hill that rose above the lands,
My ship was in the middle of the two great hills that looked down and over the shores.
I looked above and saw no clouds, just the blue skies; I could still hear her voice
The wind blew ever so gently as I move my rudder,
That song can still be heard, yet I know not where she is?
I looked to find that voice that eludes me, that called me;
But, yet, I found nothing, saw no one.
She sang a sadden song, of lost love, but lost love I knew not?
I am a stranger, afar my abode, a stranger lost in the midst of seas.
Hold and steadfast, for my heart feels allured by the maiden song,
Yes...though my heart be sadden by her song, her voice drifts my soul across the Styx.
God makes all things beautiful; all things have purpose, and is her song,
Whether it be joy or sorrows, her song, is the song of a broken heart.
That took hold my empty vessel, and filled it with joy,
Though I never thought song of sorrow can be taken for a joy.
I sailed far and afar from the shores, and saw the hills moved further away.
I could still hear her song, I looked back and saw her, a fair maiden.
God's grace that showed me, a spirit of a woman, that took my heart and broke it.
Her skin as white as snow, her deep blue eyes that stared into my soul,
her hair long and gold as that of a golden fleece.
She a ghost of the past, singing to guide her lover back into her bosoms
And her lips afar from mine. At last! it was not for me.
A strong wind that force my eyes shut and bent my knees.
As I stood up and saw no more, I heard not her song, aye, neither her voice.
She was gone with the wind.
The song of the fair maiden still resonates in mine heart as I sail a distant shores.
Even if death approaches me and take'th my life,
My words of praises for her beauty will live on forever.
...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.
In the heart of some dark English city
Came a sight that turned everyone's head
When as if from some dream
Came a wonderful team
In a wild sea of Boro Red.
Through all of my life it's been with me
All the fears all the tears I have bled
It wont run it wont yield
It's my comfort and shield this wild sea of Boro Red
And this is a beautiful colour
When I've worn it I've laughed and I've cried
It was hewn from the iron men of legend
And it's run through with passion and pride
And now my Red Lion days are closing
As I lie on my funeral bed
I can see once again
All those beautiful men
In a wild sea of Boro Red
HEAR THIS SUNG ON YOUTUBE: Louis Spence: Boro Red
At the end of the day
All your tears fade away;
All the stars come to rest,
The horizon now crest.
At the sea, the tide fades
As the sum of these days
Takes its toll on the ground,
Ripped and torn, tattered down.
And I'm here, by your side,
Torn away by the tide,
Trying still not to drown,
Not to fade in the sound of the sea.
But I see you, your eyes
Are the tide of the sea.
As they ebb, so they rise.
Still, they wash into me.
I can cry now no more.
Struck yet speechless, I cease.
In your eye, the tides roar;
I have found my release.
Lost in beauty, in that sea,
Lost in time, I'm lost to me.
Your face has aspect, fearful symmetry.
I find I'm lost for words. I cease to breathe.
And as the tide now tears me down,
It matters not.
My soul has found its rest within these ceaseless tides
That once contained my empty cries.
Captivated by your lips,
My breath is water.
'Neath the whips and scorns of time,
I find my peace.
My soul, content, has found release.
Lost in my emotion,
I found what I could be.
Drowned within that ocean,
My soul's absolved to me.
So have I drowned inside the sea,
Inside your tears, inside of me.
I know now what it is to be
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
Sea of time
Oh Sea I rhyme
Sitting here upon my log
Drifting here in my own abyss
Sitting here in time’s shallow pool
I ponder the sea’s eternal rule…
Oh Dear Sea,
how much have you seen?
Has the sky always been blue?
Have your brilliant waves
always been so murky and green?
Sea of time; oh Sea I rhyme
You regret your foolish disclosure, as you confessed to be a cold hearted lover for she was
lost of hope n’ sacrificed herself from this crest for her love for you consumed her totally,
though her broken heart, in the care of the angels choir, now sings reforged in the fires of
You lived your life in the garments of a scar around your heart, covered in bark, thrombosed
to the love of another, it now cries in virtue n’ chastity from the sentient tree that consumed
your ashes n’ dust in the grave at the top of the crest by the sea…
I give to you Poet my blessing, so you can relinquish your guilt n’ pain of love’s abandoning
from the bed of blame you made of your grave, for your quill is at peace till your
homecoming into this world, my sweet poet come back to me…
For time was your crest from this day you have leapt, you are forgiven my love so rise, let
go your purgatory n’ perhaps one day we will meet once again as your soul escapes the
gravity of captivity, now owlish n’ wise let it fly to our destiny…
Though not a word is spoken in these moments of conjuration from a lover long gone in an
age of castles n’ quests by the sea, it stormed all night n’ I remained by your grave side till
sunrise n’ the flame in your eyes became the Immortal’s fire to reforge a tarnished heart,
for your tortured soul now understands n’ through the flames your mind will follow…
Now I see the picture you have painted in the illusion of the rainbow n’ I sense the birth of
humility n’ grace as the sun breaks through the storm clouds, for your poem of remorse
finally rests n’ you my love are reborn with angel wings to ride mother earth’s breath…