Quiet weep
This inspiring song strongly reinforces our global beliefs, originating from the depths of Africa. The chorus has gained considerable popularity online. While some may argue that it is more radical than spiritual, I respectfully disagree. It resonates deeply with those who hold these beliefs
“No turning back” comes with a lot of meaning, behind this chorus line
I know of a lot of Genz who do believe in religion
But to see how they react to the chorus “I have decided to follow Jesus
Make us believe that we can conquer the devil.
They took up, they crossed and followed thee
Was it the beat in the songs or the lyrics that inspired so many
Of them to get up and dance along?
As poets, we might refer to this as zigging and zagging,
As Genz will probably say, free up your minds
I would say trust the song, not the singer
Distressing without demonstrating.
Camping without thinking,
Moving gracefully without political approvals
Let them see the youth at their best.
And more things as the Caribbean would
They come to play. No turning back
The flame of creativity is born from unknown and daring depths,
where desires and thoughts intertwine with dreams still untainted,
each spark from the free spirit is a triumph of flight over fears,
opening new skies, breaking the heavy chains of the objectified world,
but when the product of creativity touches the ground of culture and convention,
it settles, it calms, like a river losing its tumult in quiet valleys,
under the weight of time and hurried glances that no longer see essence,
in the sediments and memories of past and forgotten worlds,
and yet, somewhere in the deep silence of the soul, the flame still flickers,
waiting for the moment to rise again, to sing in vibrant and lively colors,
in a universe that demands neither explanations nor approvals, only existence.
He had a "hate/like" relationship
with the world. His usual reactions
were always critical, mostly negative,
and his scarce grudging approvals
were, at best, luke-warm. He judged
everything and everyone immediately,
contrasting them with his own imagined
greater beauty, strength, experience, knowledge,
skills, possessions, courage, heritage, and taste.
Anger was his armor and his weapon,
and he wielded it mercilessly and without pause.
A collective great sigh of relief was heard
when he was no longer around.
Alone in the dark
Hips locked in locked dance mode
We touch in such wayward ways
Our bodies assimilate as one
The music captures all we are
Falling one into the sun
Mastered moves meld
Cosexual sentient bliss
Let's get physical on foot.
Eyes closed, we body benefit
Organic, aligned, all at once.
We trip rhythm rhyme rituals
Words disappear-feelings emote
Lasting treasures of a final approach
Approvals aside, we close our
Embodiments obsecura to all
Un awakened user umbilicals.
Dance with me "til time ends
We tiptoe toilessly entranced in
Uninterrupted unity undone.
We die on floating foibles
Everlasting, embraceable-----You.
Author Dana Redricks
June 10, 2019
Our past does not define
who we are it took a long
time for me to see
The traumatising actions
of others had nothing to
had nothing to do with me
All my life searching for
acceptance not realizing
I had the best of all
approvals living on the
inside of me
Like a wounded I have
endured many battles of
unending wars
Battles within and outwards
ones too
people can't choose our destiny
that is up to you and me
Today I choose to move
forward and not live in
defeat
I am not defined by past
my past has shape me
into the person I am
The Hat Game come play
It's going down today
We will giggle, be glamorous, and have fun
the Hat Game has begun
Ladies, please come dress to play
No ones excluded all will be on display
Gonna play this game our way
Please come Swaggin thru this doorway
We will all look so pretty, just looking for a good time
To see my friends, let my hair down and unwind
Today is our day, we own it, we control it
in a very unique classy way
Need no approvals, just do you, your way!!!
Old Friends, great food, big hats and the best of wine
All the day long, we gonna have a great time
Singing songs, dancing, and glancing
don't be surprised by all of the prancings.
This Hat Game is our dominion and its mandatory
To all my Divas, come claim your territory.
We come dress to play, creating our own splendor from heavens glory.
When the day is done, and this hat game we have played,
and all played to hell, satisfaction is what I smell
All my ladies, this year everything was just great
All are jealous and enemies will just have hate
The Hat Game has been played, no style delayed, another hat slayed and God bless all my friends I love you no shade!!!! Hat Game come play
Health experts advise us to consume only drinks that are MEDICINAL
Greed is a reason adduced for sellers of drugs that aren’t ORIGINAL
Law enforcement agents are after those importers just like a CRIMINAL
Where local producers make drugs, their license must be PROVISIONAL
Close monitoring of process is important even if the item is NUTRITIONAL
Producers may abuse approvals thus any waiver must be CONDITIONAL
© Wole Popoola 2016
Approvals I Should Praise
The rhythm of my pen knows no bounds
Its ticks, treks, and steps knows no count.
The songs on my lip just loose the count.
No where, I suppose to untie the bond.
Strong bones are so much in here
They touch and squeeze out letters bountifully.
In these bones, many light I have received gracefully.
Linda is one, Andrea is two among all of you there.
You are all amazing guests in this field
Cup of water..., cup of tea come to toast.
Many hugs, many thanks to you, writ and host.
... Eden that crowns my garden and its yields.
Special parcel to my coy mistress, Linda.
All sea, roses...and sweet showers to you.
And my lady Andrea; always brand new!
I love you all... your words in my wall are tender.
Dedicated to:
Poetrysoup,
Poet Destroyer A,
Andrea Dietrich
and to the rest of Poetrysoupers.
I am Grateful for your warm welcome.
We die at tender ages,
while ambitions are still young;
we are trials and failures.
Poets are people too.
Our wastes stink like everyone’s.
We cry, we hoot.
We love, we show disgust.
Poets are people too.
The same lips that brought comfort to the oppressed
and shout approvals for things well done,
utter dark enchantments
and trumped-up stories.
Poets are people too.
Our fables of love bring descents
and eternal anguish to the beguiled.
Our soft words stir wilting souls to endure,
and cast delight into tearful eyes.
Poets are people too.
Our words are mummies,
preserved for scrutiny.
We echoed the defiance for ethics,
and bend revolting spirits to resign.
We mold soft hearts as cruel as stones,
and corrupt beautiful minds.
Poets are people too.
We are mothers and fathers, uncles and aunts;
we are children, delightful children.
We are the voices of ten thousands suffering.
an empty box brandishing a red flag
where hope for packages and letters
from unknown addresses try to find
their way home. greeting cards with
colored envelopes marked by rough
edged stamps. bills seemingly blank
on the outside become very contrary
once they are opened. pre-approvals
for credit cards decorated with holo
grams of promise to receive all that
is desired. the box is a lying device.