THE NEW WORLD.
Keep reading and don't talk,
Robots do major work
As I supervise and watch.
With my cold hands
I read psalm
As the sun is turning on
From the west lawn,
These new world is a song
Long told by the holy monk,
It was kept far in the elephants
Trunk
We didn't read to be wisdom
Drunk.
The world was a better place,
Till riches came with a sensitive
Scent,
Segregation enters every page
Poverty becomes a stain and
Pain of the destined age.
Tears is this healthy rain
She can express,
But will never explain.
The new world
Is these great spray
I can't challenge the other
Of the day,
Two stage is all time present
A present or punishment for
Man rent
The new world isn't the same
And will never remain
The same even for any saint.
HABIB AKEWUSOLA
I can stare deep intou your eyes, and all i can do is wonder
Life itself is a mystery, and no one can predict how it will end
No one is perfect, we all make mistakes , its just so hard when you loose ur heart
I walk about empty, as can be, im afraid to look in the mirror and see the scars
The hands of time have slapped me deeply leaving pain that comes and goes
How can i look at another and try to see past the image that you left
How am i sopposed to forget you, and pretend you were never here
If i cant even breathe once without thinking of you
Sadly i must got on, the light is on yet no one is home
The pain is fresh but no soul to man the brush and create
The pen lays there in his hand, yet his heart wont allow him to feel
This world isnt real, then why do we feel
If it could all end today, i would be happy, if only i could stop this feeling
Slowly it's killing me, softly robbing my dreams
Let the world know that i am edward whom once was
I will live through my poetry and memories, but death took me long ago
I am not a Poet,
But a Bored Child alone..
I sit by myself,sing the worlds Saddest song.
Don't feel bad,i sure don't.
Go be social,i sure wont`
Id rather relax,into a world I've created
A world of all world where No days are Dated
The best days of my Life were oh so imaginary
But that doesn't matter where they make the sweetest berry’s
This world is the Best
A magical oasis,
Green Skies,Purple Clouds,Blue Sun,Yellow Rays
This world,This World,This world..I say
I wish you could see the beauty I Do..
In this place there are no Issues
Not even tissues because there's no Tears.
Unless their of Happiness because you are Here!
I laugh and I smile,have the time of my life
The people break out into musicals in the Streets
The local bag boy provides all the beats
A beat so amazing,stands you up on your feet
A song so joyful you will sway in the heat
This world,This world,This world,I Say!
I only wish,sorta there will soon be a day
when you can imagine the love and the fate
Destent to be apart of my Way..
the world is not black and white
the world is many shades of gray
truth and lies can be the same color
everyone says that growing is hard
no one says that not growing is harder
life is a fusion of emotions and seeing
a mishmash of beauty and ugly
one must face the ugly
in order to see the beauty
In the beginning the world was flat.
Nature was magical and that was that.
We expressed or selves with cave drawings and cuneiform too
Cuneiform was cool because it was new.
Later came sand script ant it was neat.
Except for its weight it couldn’t be beat.
Pharaohs maintained that the world was flat.
Nature was still magical and that was that.
Through the years things stayed mostly the same.
Scientists came along making themselves a name.
Soon folks were sailing the sea so blue.
Its’ roundness they all knew.
During the Renaissance artist turned up the heat.
The respect they gained was sweet.
The world knew it wasn’t flat.
The world of magic grew faint and that was that.
Science, literature and the arts grew.
The educational academies did too.
Cameras made artist feel obsolete.
Artist evolved to feel more complete.
The world got a little more abstract.
The artist was reborn and that’s a fact.
Impressionist challenged what we knew.
Expressionist had their day too.
Art for art’s sake is sweet.
Art’s expressive circle is nearly complete.
The mind’s not flat.
Expression is what you pull from your hat.
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
the world of love
no negativity or diseases
the diseases that spread through violence
no pain
no tears
just the pursuit of happiness
the voices of pursuing success
no failure or people left behind
no judgment
just the fatal attraction of inner appeal
ask and thy shall receive answers
no silent lips of abuse
just the tongues of love
the taste of a lavish lifestyle, without the materialistic of fashion
the art of live that sometimes, we forget
to be unforgotten
left behind
the chains of separation
racism that still smothers the world with a closed blanket
the true reality of what we are , resolves in the environment and family that we have
resolute the problems before its a conflict
live for today and the goals of the future
Precious Haiti
Haiti sounds like hate I
Rhymes with Baby doc
And Papa doc
Feels like
Made in USA
But Unlike the Mariel Boatlift
The people are excluded from
Entering
Black
Dark
White teeth
African
Looking
French and Creole speaking
People
Haitians
Unwanted
Haiti
Shook the world
Fought and won
A great war
Against the French
But this black
Revolution
This first black republic
Like a white’s man rabbit’s foot
Like a white’s voodoo
Back fired
On Haiti
Because they
Paid
Reversed Reparation
For 100 years
250 years ago
An earthquake
Rocked Haiti
The world yawned
100 years ago
An earthquake
Rocked Haiti
The world
Announced the seismic
Reading
Minutes ago
Haiti sat on a wall
Haiti had a great fall
And like Humpty Dumpty
All the King’s horses and All the King’s men
Couldn’t put aside their hate and indifference
To put Haiti back together again…..
Through and through, the wind and rain,
I am the lucky one, but none in vain.
For my hands flow freely,
Fleetingly working through pain.
I pour myself in,
All and some change.
Secluded and solemn,
My works are my own.
I have finally learned them,
The seeds have been sown.
When my life’s crumbling,
And when my world turns fake.
What I can do, what I love,
Tends to ease the ache.
For when the world has turned its back,
And when my fire turns cold.
I can keep my self alive and warm,
By playing the few cards I hold.
I scan my hand and daringly smile,
This round I do not fold.
Characteristically speaking,
I am in awe of you,
Make believing, while convincing us all that you are true.
Art imitating life,
Life from the depth of imagination,
profoundly saying,
I am here, SURPRISE!!!!
I have arrived!!!!!
Shakespere himself would roll over with envy,
and T.S. Elliot would smile with what you bring.
Keep doing the things that you do,
with that magic that you make.
Fore all of the world is a stage,
and you provide the light,
the world is your audience;
as you shine so bright,
As the flash of their cameras,
command your action,
and the captivating passion!!!!!!
Academy award winner,
thank you for sharing your gift,
It is truly everlasting!!!!!!!