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For the Edward Ibeh's This or That, vol 26 poetry contest

 

Sometimes, reflections from my mirror, recall when I slumbered at nature's nadir, as naysayers whispered in whiskey breaths. Bewildered, I wandered in the wilderness, until the mercy of verse reversed the curse. Poetry you've always been the legacy of my heritage, a shimmering nimbus, where my words reside by petals, but if this was my last poem, it would be the death of an alchemist's magic. There would be no potion to persecute my pain, bleeding ink of wounds would have no quill mistress. Yet, I yearn to leave evidence of my existence, but my narration is not as lucid as black pigment upon white pages, because poetic colours have their own stories. I'm tired from hiding behind idioms, where metaphors drip in liquid lies, veiled within tracing lines of heartbreak. Whilst sleeping under cherry blossom trees, I look back upon my life wondering what purpose summons us, as I've lost all faith in strange dreams coming true. I've grown up surrounded by the scent of sorrow, forsaken in seasonal spheres of fragility, masticating upon mourning morsels, adorning garlands of grief soaked in rainfall, plundering like the tears of Earth, but even when confusion composed its cruelty, I fought back to rise, each time I fell. There has always been pressure from the heavyweight of darkness, where I screamed songs of desperation, as lamenting lyrics resembled emotions of a falling star. When the breeze blew away the confetti of my stardust, my heart remained like unblossomed florets - so I became my own poetic gardener and planted my own blooms. Sins of humanity plague me into a withering leaf, turning invisible, softly settling in sinister silence. I search for a Godforsaken garden, where my hands can heal fruitless soil. Poetry, nobody feels like you, yet, it's you I sacrifice, before my heart clasps, as the soul sinks in ideologies of faith and fate. I can't justify shadows with excuses from expression, I'm letting go of bitter reflections from photographs. as it's time to heal the scars from my bloody hands. Wishing to remain quenched, but drenched in love, so fate can prepare a grave for my sorrows. I can't waste time wondering if I'll be remembered, so, I wave goodbye, floating away like a feather, executing the articulation of my senses.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 7/28/2024 7:29:00 PM
Wwow! My fave to this outstanding poetry too. Thank you so much for sharing and Big Congrats on your well-deserved top win too! God bless you always and your writings my dear poet friend SO. Hugs
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Date: 7/28/2024 3:32:00 PM
Wow, SO, this is a masterpiece and a fave for me. I share your sentiments about poetry, a "shimmering nimbus" indeed! Congratulations on your top win in my contest!
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Date: 7/28/2024 8:02:00 AM
I do believe I followed you here Silent... I'm with you and at least get the first and second layer of this poem. Leaves me feeling excited to understand and sad to... understand. I see a few sprinkles of alliteration so clever. You are a joy to read! Xoxo
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Date: 7/27/2024 8:56:00 PM
congratulations. happy writing.
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Date: 7/7/2024 9:02:00 PM
Beautiful verse for this topic, always your best, my friend
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Date: 7/7/2024 9:45:00 AM
Amazingly, we have nowhere to hide but under our Ink. This is so deep and warm. A lot of wishes, pain, love, wounds and healing. The truth is we do not really know the people that would remember us. The people we've most impacted on might be strangers we never got to see. But our words would be a long-lasting imprint till they depart the earth. "so I became my own poetic gardener and planted my own blooms." When the world gives you too many flowers with weeds or thorns, we have to plants ours.
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Tonye George
Date: 7/7/2024 9:47:00 AM
Our true definition is our discovery, purpose and the things that we brought back to life by ourselves when the world killed it for us. "I'm tired from hiding behind idioms, where metaphors drip in liquid lies, veiled within tracing lines of heartbreak." Most times this is all we've got and we must embrace it. You're a great poet Silent and I admire your craft and look up to you. Cheers.
Date: 7/7/2024 5:54:00 AM
Deep musings here, Silent One, subtly nuanced, sprinkled with metaphors, weaving magic from your poetic pen. Absolutely loved it!
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Date: 7/7/2024 5:07:00 AM
bleeding ink of wounds would have no quill mistress. Yet, I yearn to leave evidence of my existence. These words are so powerful.
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Date: 7/6/2024 9:27:00 PM
What a powerful way of articulating your pain that you alone can experience and no body else can see. "Poetry you've always been the legacy of my heritage, a shimmering nimbus, where my words reside by petals". How true, poetry has been your shelter and refuge. Through your poems while you seek a kind of catharsis, do you know how it creates a tsunami of emotions in your readers. Your concluding words- "I can't waste time wondering if I'll be remembered, so, I wave goodbye". Definitely you'll be fondly remembered.... no doubt, dear Gifted One
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Date: 7/6/2024 7:29:00 PM
A marvellous write Silent One, a beautiful bloom from the poetic gardener… Beryl
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Date: 7/6/2024 5:40:00 PM
The theme is perfect for your poetry style. Awesome imagery. The best I could think up was a story sonnet
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Date: 7/6/2024 5:01:00 PM
Amazing work, Silent- it's has such see- through quality, begs truth to be read...
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Date: 7/6/2024 2:03:00 PM
Hauntingly sad. There is so much depth and hidden meaning in every line. Thank God poetry helps us to find catharsis. Hope you're well otherwise.
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Date: 7/6/2024 11:29:00 AM
So good... Poetic gardener
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Date: 7/6/2024 7:23:00 AM
"Bewildered, I wandered in the wilderness, until the mercy of verse reversed the curse." -- Love that! No secret to anyone, how I revere poetry, put it on a pedestal with prayer and God. "Yet, I yearn to leave evidence of my existence," What we publish, from the heart, is an immortal legacy to mankind -- "There has always been pressure from the heavyweight of darkness," Our soul mourns the loss of Eden. "it's time to heal the scars from my bloody hands." I know~ far easier to forgive others.
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Date: 7/6/2024 3:46:00 AM
Dear silent one, you have a way with expressing in such eloquence that makes readers ponder, and feel the depth of what you weave ! I am love the alliterations metaphors and descriptive wordplay throughout this and how youv also written “because poetic colors have their own stories” lamenting lyrics resembled emotions of a falling star. When the breeze blew away the confetti of my stardust,“ wow! Those similes! And how you compare emotions to all that in nature is just mesmerizing and leave me awestruck! Captivated! Wishing , the kind of helplessness you portray would not he the reality for anyone, as it sounds intense and so heart wrenching! Sometimes the only way to cope with disappointments in life is by creating our own poetic garden, watering thoughts, to bloom again, revive and heal! The ending is really soul hitting! Im inspired! Best wishes for the contest
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Date: 7/6/2024 2:33:00 AM
enjoyed visiting tha garden of your soul, great poetry my friend, thanks a lot
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Date: 7/6/2024 2:07:00 AM
On my Reread List. There are deep, deep layers. Very much valued.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things