It’s not sweet when I reminisce.
On the day I can afford to,
I’d like to place a candy store on Memory Lane.
Had to take my own two legs,
move them like a mermaid’s tail.
That was me adapting to the marine way,
’cause if I didn’t,
the water’s body would decompose my body—
and who wants to leave behind a teary mommy?
Still swallowed up by the marine,
suddenly there appeared a submarine.
I was pulled up, got breathing space—
less problems, more oxygen.
Talks with the Almighty,
reconnect with my origin.
If you can’t climb a tree, use a ladder.
If you can’t swim, build a boat.
Opportunity will arise along the way
Children learn from
Their environment
They are like sponges
Even from early years
They act as you would
Like them to act in the future.
Minds in a Fugue
rambling
over my words
never
say what I really
wanna say
stop asking me questions
Pause cause of the reality
cause and effect
or is it truth or dare
really could you
care
tell me you care
Disreguarded my feelings
to settle down
Love you
don't that sound strange
somethings rearranged
somethings rearranged
Figured you say
hand you what
adaptation
adaptation
adaptation
Don't embarass me in public
don't act like you forgot my name
ah kiss aint to much
to ask for
ah kiss aint to much
to ask for
Smoochie: Smoochi
I need some more
don't leave me like this
smile were together
Don't ihnore my feelings
to prove something that aint worth fussin ovr
I know you love me
I'm still your man
Figured you say
hand me what
adaptation
adaptation
adaptation
I wouldn't be alone if you were here
get here
get here
Your companionship aint that nad
get here
get here
Tree is standing still,
Oh! the tree is standing still.
Dense difficulties stiff it,
Still its muscular branches ready to beat it.
Atrocious time will land and soon will reach its end,
However its sturdy branches never let it to bend.
Tree is standing still,
Oh! the tree is standing still.
Dense difficulties stiff it,
Still its muscular branches ready to beat it.
Adaptation is Adaptation living is born to learn,
New change rise in trun.
Tree is standing still,
Oh! the tree is standing still.
Dense difficulties stiff it,
Still its muscular branches ready to beat it.
The rain
suits the soil
falling down,
the river
suits the water
running,
we fit in
life,
simply
living... !
Shaded damp forests
let ferns grow equally well
on soil and from rocks.
Lessons taught and yet to teach
Unfurl themselves from your unknown depths
Power and promise, false for each
To prove corruption with every breath
Alone, the world is blind
A push to prove our selfish ways
A push to see the truth
The people try to avert their gaze
Misfortune exists to improve
A lesson staked with life
Be appreciative...It could be worse
A new phrase engraved in my mind
My family, my friends, in love I’m immersed
My perspective was altered, by design
How strange a new normal
My want for change ever increases
Never more have my close ones been so appreciated
Taken for granted, my old normal left
And from my hopes, my life deviated
For good or not, that’s yet to be seen
Slender Kindred Glance
sun drenched, a field of
reflective grasses,
abosrbing the infernal rays
of that hot orb, swaying
in the breeze as they might,
their motion inspirits
my head and torso to sway
slowly in tandem,
in parallel time like
a lazy march, as the
rhythmic swirls
of dried seed heads
atop floral stalks, brush,
against one another,
crashing…. serving up
its falling germ,
ground-ward, glancing off
to one place or another.
as my human touch,
with its atomic currents,
attest to their certainty of
interaction, what would
I do, when a slender
kindred glance of
the ineffable breath,
yes that breath!
engaging that crowned
salutary word, which
sounded the first cry
to release, birthing
the slow crawl of animal
logic and its pool of
accrued totality; the
human sun, that human orb
bows down.
My eyes stare forward,
my breath has halted, the
fields of grass continue
swaying, they pay no mind,
it all started so long ago;
seed scurrying about
over the landscape,
lodging wherever, hidden,
patient, asleep for the
moment, awaiting the
conditions. Like them
I wait, I take
a full breath.
I adapted to my pain
And felt it's existence no longer
Sometimes facing the unknown
Makes it less a wonder
My mockery became my amour
And yes! it shielded me
For in the absence of the sun
The moon must learn to shine
A thousand times did I crawl
In the dark
And collided with unseen objects
Still now I run in the same darkness
And need not any light
In this scar was a flesh so broken
I never thought could heal
In this night i was once asleep
And never dreamt to be awoken
But of all things said and done
And for every hurdle come
I have put a foot ahead
And steadily I count my steps
I was that seed buried and forgotten
I was that onion that once was rotten
Yet in my rot did I germinate
And out of the ground I propagate
BY: Adams O Elizabeth
Lizdiamond world of poetry
Two thousand years ago Robot John came by
As a gift from mom and pop at Christmas
Wrapped in orange paper made in Russia
Signed “Peace and Love Forever” Santa
The android stood as tall as life with flashing lights
Big blue eyes that never blinked or cried
It posed a million questions in need of answers
Programmed by parents bent on my happiness
Robot John would be my friend forever playing
Protecting me from bullies and enemies alike
Teaching me to speak in several languages at a time
It seemed like fun and games would never stop
How wrong was I for dreaming such a fantasy?
As I grew older the robot took control of things
It beat me every day for pleasure
Using logic and a piece of wood for my own good
Mom and dad did not believe in punishment
They delegated that to Mr. Robot friend
If only I could find the turn off switch
So I could dismantle him
But how long should I flog myself?
Even when all else choose to beat me silly.
Or, if life be justified to change,
Should justice now lead to the gallows?
When I’ve only chosen to live life.
Or, is it just that I suffered dis-applaud
For living life on the basis of was is justified?
And if all else choose to flog me,
If all else choose not to reason my way,
Should I also flog myself?
And if so, for how long?
How long should I flog myself
When in my bid to live out the justice of life,
I am confronted with the injustice of men.
@SEPTEMBER 2017/©M.H.O.G Unveiled
But why o why should I be made to apologize?
When the song changed
And the beat of the music followed
And was justified accordingly that such is life,
Then, why o why should I be made to apologize?
When I have only changed my dancing steps accordingly,
If the rules of the game be justified to change,
Right in the middle of its unraveling,
Should it in anyway be surprising
That the players in the game also made some alignments?
Or, when we are told, change is constant in life,
Should anyone be prosecuted for living?
Should anyone be penalized for observing the rules of the game?
Or, is Change now selectively constant?
@SEPTEMBER 2017/©M.H.O.G Unveiled
When suddenly the rules changed
The rules and game mode changed
And I protested why?
Why do the rules need to change?
When the game and pitch is still of this life
But the experienced and vast in days’
They calmed me down, that such is life.
Then I chose not to be disoriented nor dismayed
I chose not to stay confused
Since the change, they said, is constant
I made some alterations and modification
In my principles, scope and mode of play
Then the voice that calmed me came calling again
Why? O Brother why Do you change and delude us?
@SEPTEMBER 2017/©M.H.O.G Unveiled
It is a golden brown dawn
It is spring, snow is all melt gone
The grass is sprouting with weary patchy green
I wonder how it survived the harsh winter grin?
The grass was covered under snow pile
No air was there underneath the white sheath
How did it breathe?
No sunlight pierced through the soil beneath
That's why the grass looks tired
and it has brown pith
Scientists say this is hibernation
I would say aspiration to live
under the cloud of hardship
I wish I had that adaptation skill
And a place inside your cold heart
to revive
when your apathy destroys
my somber will, my desire to live.
The grass is no longer strictly green
morning dew has turned to frost
it crunches in shades of yellow
when over it I walk.
The sky is clouded, over bearing
covering what was recalled
as springtime sun, and blue bonnets
fully in charge of the hill.
Nothing in this season
has been truly lost, the cost
of course is patience
and belief that new will happen again.
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