Welcome my baby welcome,
Yes, be a great read, come,
Tell the world your big bold tale,
Your birth is greater than a sale,
Surely, the dead must be sobbing,
Be a rude awakening to the robbing!
Copyright © Ndaba Sibanda | Year Posted 2013
On My Eighty Fifth Birthday
Another Birthday…I’m still alive
Never thought that I’d survive
To the ripe old age of Eighty Five!
But here I am…feisty still
Even though I’m over the hill!
Don’t count me out...Don’t ring that bell
I’m still here and raising hell!
Had a few blimps along the way
But I’m not leaving, I’m here to stay
Still have plans…I’m not done yet
I may do things I may regret
But I’ll have fun doing it
You can bet!
It matters not how old you are
You can dream your dream
Or follow your star
Your flesh may fail you
Your steps may be slow
More and more wrinkles start to show
But there is one thing I surely know
A man isn’t judged by how he looked
Or the size of his fortune or pocketbook
The greatest legacy he leaves behind
Isn’t intelligence or a fertile mind
But the love he gave to his family and friends
A heart full of love always transcends
Fame and fortune in the end
So Happy Birthday again to me
How many more…..?
We’ll just have to see
In the meantime friends
You’ll be hearing from me!
Copyright©2013 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
Copyright © Beatrice Boyle | Year Posted 2013
Look at me, I’m a 25 year trendy maker!
I feature a brand new me, at present!
Look at me, and Read through my transition,
I wear George and shave jeans,
Now I’m getting A Gucci,
And now I can volunteer in UN.
I’m the birthday lad at present.
May the folks warble for De Poet, as I take my view.
I’m floating in the galaxy,
But now, let me trail down, to my castle,
Look at the mirror, it all defines me as A Script-Writer,
On my fingertips, is where you unearth my lyrics!
Did you just read that? I’m A Song-writer as well.
I just don’t give a break,
God dam it, I’m A Poet, “Bryan De Poet”
I am, and I have T.m.T forever.
I am 25! And I’m a silver jubilee today.
What a better me, I can fly far and wide,
And It’s a Sunday, when Emmanuel rose,
My pristine birth–date, though! was, a Good Friday, back then in 89,
That defined and defines, my other name “Emmanuel”
Now let me stroll to haven,
With my own visions and missions,
Extremely eventful and magical I’ am,
Wait a Sec, let me accolade my mother, the tremendous queen “Stella”
And not forgetting my father “William”
For today, don’t try to find my station, and try not to provoke me,
Just listen to me,
I’m what I am, and what you see.
This is, an even year for me!
It’s my birthday,
But I haven’t forgotten where I came from.
All Rights Reserved
In Memory of my 25th Birthday
© T.m.T scripts
Copyright © Bryan De Poet | Year Posted 2014
Seeing yourself through
A full-length mirror
Through the endless deed
To day a mere reflection
Of yesterday dreams'
Yet to be opened
Dark Oh! so misty
Reality is only a myth
From the times'
Draped by the promises'
Of people we adore'
Knowing that freedom awaits'
Just beyond thy
From: "The Cross"
Xlibris book # 106627
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2013
Oh! What a day, a perfect day
Something is found, as the game is plaid,
Something precious and something good,
A precious toy with heart and soul
Here‘s a day with quite a spirit
A cetin man must buy some (purity)
While a cetin woman is quite exhausted
She tries to speak but make no sense
Oh! What the hell its wealth a while,
They are all relived it went so well.
Oh!!! What is that, a new world warrior
With a crocodile’s heart and the spirit of
A cat, and that’s because he’s a mix of both
A dangerous mixture you’ll ever face, in
His body run’s the blood of cannibals.
I talk about a wild beast, with shining eyes
Like twinkling stars, nails as sharp as Uncle Leo pat
Teeth as strong as ant Lacosta,
He’s a big cat in the sense of the word, but I can
Argue that he’s a croc as well,
Copyright © Matshidiso Mosia | Year Posted 2016
Rays of sugarplums dance in the sun.
Children’s laughter was heard and enjoyed.
We should teach them to relish life while they are young.
Lights are dancing in the twilight.
A bright smile beams from across the room.
Teenagers’ embraced as they cabaret the dance floor.
Scurry a cat under the disco ball.
The elder sashayed to discourage this fiasco.
Contentment and joy was hearkened.
Joseph, Moses, and John
Mary, Maria, and Joyce
Three boys and three girls
Socialization took face.
You could overhear family telling about their generations.
The connections they made were quite amazing.
PENNED ON JULY 26, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
I had no money to get you something
But that don’t mean you’re nothing
You’re the birthday girl
The best mom in the world
Many years spent with smiles
There were very little denials
I’m glad you are my mother
The days we spend hugging one another
Your birthday is a very special day
No matter what anyone does say
No money to get you a gift
Instead I write a poem to give you a lift
There is not a day that goes by
When I wish you weren’t by my side
As I get older year by year
Always know I’m here if you need a cheer
I hope your birthday brings lots of joy
I’m so proud to be your boy
Copyright © Donald Hull III | Year Posted 2010
As my story begins,
I was born on 30th March 6889 AD with beats audio in my ears,
With a pen in between my index finger,
So make no err, I’m a playwright and so was my Queen Mother,
Even when I never had and I have no cheese, music fed & feeds me.
My ears don’t listen to this, that & those!
Music is my sovereign princess because it never breaks my heart & it will never,
So I fell in love with music because it’s Y.A.S,
That’s why I #8ryan I will never refrain from listening to music & writing!
I got all music genres in my favorite playlist, after all music is my, mind control,
So let’s, bass, stereo, pop, jazz, classic & rock my playlist,
Killjoys, don’t yah make a name against #8ryan’$ music club life,
Because there dwells only one club life at time in Amagoro!
My music room is my habitual writing room!
30th March is a Celly day for my birth-date & my music club life, so STFU,
Cause’ music qualifies to inspire me to write,
This freedom at 21st century makes me to be cool #Af
Cause’ my music club life speaks for itself,
Now shall you take my name & use it, let me be,
Cause’ I’m the minister of words!
And the winner who will never quit on himself
Enjoy the funkin poem.
Copyright © Bryan De Poet | Year Posted 2016
Its been years may be,
as i enter you room again, feeling of lonliness creeps again.
feeling of vacivity inside me.
weeks into months into a years have passed, back again i m here.
my birthday again, have come to pack your things, to move on in life...
difficult to but i will...
a gift giving myself on your behalf as you would want me to move on...
long after you have gone, scent of your colonge still lingers in there..
the aroma reminds me of some good old days,
days we spent together, danced infront of my eyes in flash,
memory of my surprised birthday given by you, happiest day of my life...
other memories leaving a smile on my face
i wish i could over turn time and find myself with you,
its too late now.....
i feel to pessundate who have done this..
i know its wrong to talk or think like this but i cant help it..
tough to live like this.
so here i come to have a recap only for one last time and move on..
as you would dislike me to suffer like this..
as i pack your things with my feelings into suitcase
gate of memories will be closed forever,
time spent together cherished forever.
those memories spent together will stay in my heart,
silent tears will be passed...as all goes into the bags,
your cuffs, ties, pocketscarves,shirts lie in there..
lost to luster...
our photo frames, rings inside on the stand
my first earned gift lie unused
you said you will use those black cuffs when you come back
broke your promise!
i know you robbed my book and i knew you aware of it
as you robbed to tease me is now covered with dust...
i would pack with other things...
as i pull drawer, watch gifted by you father too goes in bag..
beautifull memories of happiness and quarrels, from our past..
i could not apart...
it started to unfold, tears i could not control.
those natrum muriaticums rolling dowm my ckeeks but your absent even to wipe them.
more my heart bleeds.
as i dig your stuff into siutcase, bury my face into your clothes with our memories..
you have gone for real, sacrifised for our land our country.
you in heaven, me earth, distance too long, yet time for me to travel there...
so proud to associate with you but difficult to live without you..
but i will move on as my eyes watched all getting packed,
only few our traces left behind..
i stood for long with a hope you would come again back to me
but its late so i move on with positive approach, on a good note with you minus any bitterness..
as we both rest in peace, you in heaven me in earth..
Copyright © Pooja Mitter | Year Posted 2011