Two friends went on a weeklong tour
Soon on bed, one began to snore
The other sat up irate.
He began cursing his fate.
He murmured “What an awful bore!”
With his friend lying so close on bed
He thought, his sleep, he would have to shed
He wished to avert his doom
Told hotel boy- ‘get a room’
Leaving his friend, to next room he fled.
Pardon me, ma’am, said the ne’er-do-well
Do you have the time
Holding her nose to avert the smell
She said, Not enough to pardon your crime
You reach an age where your mind loves scanning back.
Over your history - the days of youth, joy, rage and all the panic attacks!
Sometimes so vivid the memory you feel you could touch it by reach. Sometimes so dark the memory the wall needs regular maintenance to avert the breach.
Retired as age ticks on and on and you feel your mind is given permission once again to be free. You realise that some dreams of youth were simply never meant to be. But take solace from within the warmth you have now. You understand this life and you survived somehow.
Amidst this tangled scene..In a world
Largely revulsed by pred o viles like
Epstien..There is mayhem in the middle
East, Iran is attacked, and its response is
Coming back? ( its now he usual scene ) many
Horrors obscene.' Meanwhile on the oceon
Personnel from the US, are awaiting, the
Hook, for their baiting? Yet there is still time.' To avert more violence and human
Crimes, i proffer that Iran, could nullify such out-pan.' By offering sanctuary a safe
Space.' And tranquillity for any mass abdication of forigen aggresion, upon their
Nation, by troops who may well be thinking
There is no sense? No advantage to bring
This is stinking.? I'd advise offer them a
Place where they can rest in peace and safety ( act in human interest and do be hasty..)
If you cannot mend
your own house,
how will your enemy
build it for you?
You cry terrorism.
You name Boko Haram.
Yet you avert your eyes
from the hands
that arm them.
Who feeds the fire?
Who sells the knife?
Who whispers the route
before the strike?
How can the sponsor
of disorder
be your physician?
Your leaders kneel in corruption,
sleep with devils,
and preach prosperity
to the starving.
They speak of God,
yet bargain with blood.
America arrives
wearing the mask of salvation,
but everywhere he walks
order collapses.
Can a killer of his own people
teach you peace?
He called your continent filth.
Did you think
his heart would defend you?
Nigeria,
do not confuse education
with wisdom.
Do not wait for strangers
to fix wounds
they helped create.
Power never rescues the weak.
It exploits them.
And he who waits for saviors
while refusing truth
is already digging
his grave.
I did not bow when shadows came
Nor beg the dark for leave,
The clock struck once—my name, my breath
And still I would not grieve.
For Death arrived in velvet steps,
With iron in his smile,
He offered crowns and wisdom,
I laughed—and stood awhile.
My eyes were wide as midnight seas
That swallow stars and prayer,
I met his gaze, unblinking still,
And found no mercy there.
No trembling plea escaped my tongue,
No god was left to call,
I bore my soul like broken glass
And watched the curtains fall.
Let cowards sleep in softened dark,
Let faith avert its sight—
I walked awake into the end
And named the ending mine.
If doom must claim this mortal frame,
It shall not take my will;
I crossed that threshold standing firm,
My heart—defiant still.
If I could press a button—just one,
A brass lever humming in a midnight room—
And shudder back through history’s run,
I’d pause before the urge to bloom.
Would I fix the world?
Avert a war, mend a broken vow,
Convince a poet not to end his song—
Or simply wish I’d learned the cello by now?
Perhaps I’d find the seven-year-old me,
Ears crimson with playground shame,
Letting the bullies’ words root deep—
I’d kneel and whisper, “Your name is not their game.”
Or would I stand on the moon’s dust,
1969—Neil Armstrong’s boot suspended—
And yell, “Try a somersault!” just for the laugh,
So history books would end, “and then he upended.”
Maybe I’d just nudge Newton’s apple,
Make it miss his head by an inch,
And watch him wonder, “Did I imagine that?”
While gravity waits at the bench.
But here’s the truth:
Every itch to change the past
Is really a wish for mercy, for someone—anyone—
To say, “You did okay. At last.”
So I’d use my power not for grand designs
Or rewriting the universe’s rhyme.
I’d find a lonely moment—mine or yours—
And simply show up,
On time.
I can't avert my wistful stare,
from a memento lying there.
Tears fill my eyes, and I cannot see,
my thoughts immersed in reverie.
It was nineteen hundred and sixty eight
when I saw, with her, the Violet Grape.
Psychedelic wonders, and yet,
how could the entire world forget?
Is it only me who still knows
about the band that curled the toes
of me and my angel, the wild rose?
She gave me, enclosed,
tickets for two,
saying one for me, and one for you -
we will ascend to heaven,
on concert day, October eleven.
Reminded by a purple envelope,
of a night and girl who went up in smoke,
as if they never once existed,
a strange thought to be resisted.
I can't avert my wistful stare,
from the envelope, unopened there.
With the sudden pang in your abdomen
And the onslaught of terror,
Did you look around one last time
At the familiar keepsakes on the fireplace
Or did you avert your gaze?
In the frosty darkness of that night
As you climbed to that holy shrine
With mud colllecting at your ankles,
Did the Virgin hail her unexpected visitor
or did she avert her eyes?
And as you laid there,
In your bed of stone
And when that moment came at last,
Tell me, were you revealed or petrified
As you finally held what was always yours?
Were you afraid you’d burn -
Not like the sages in their holy fire
Or were you pierced with peace,
Gazing into his evanescent eyes
In that still darkness of the night?
Who knew you were an ammunition,
A camouflage with a malice!
I'm still numb from the revelation
No matter how much I try
I'm afraid that I might risk walking the path
that killed all my dreams I'd reinforced spellbound by your lies!
I'm locked in your cellar
For the crime of conviction
In the castle you built
And called our home!
There's a door on your side
I know l'd never dare to knock
The door wrapped in Bougainvillea
Hiding behind them
The thorns of your sweet excuses!
I know I must avert
And disappear into the fog,
Hoping you'd then realise what a loss feels like!
But, my limbs are paralysed by the venom of trust
That sluggishly ran through my blood
Tormenting me all these years !
Now,
All I need is an escape
Is that too much to ask for?
Devestation by the mountain, a warning now to all.'
Life is fragile.' Who can know.? Or avert when such a disaster
Decides to fall.?
The reminder, the shattering of my drinking
glass
This put paid to my sleep as a
gloss
It was only the relationship that was
broken
Though my heart had me earlier
fortoken
I have since gathered myself to avert more
loss
Then shall I say I could no other do?
That fate beyond divine compelled my act?
That like a bird on wires my mission flew?
But that's a game of words, and not of fact.
Full well I knew how best to calm my mind,
From huddled suffering to avert my eyes;
To on Olympus joy and music find;
To drink ambrosia where but pleasure lies.
But one must do one's math across the all,
To give one's scope of thought a greater room;
And even as a god, my part was small:
'Twas choice, and not a fate, that sealed my doom.
And if the cost has been both life and soul,
The gift has value far above its toll.
I don't like anyone, especially you.
Some are still up in the clouds, next to you.
My eyes avert you, down on my knees
Drink till I ache, ditsy-stole
knock on the red door
I don't even like you,
against the wall
I kiss you until our lips are bruised
No-"take a shot"
"Just one more"
Isn't that what you came here for?
I see a face in the window
Stranger in the mirror
it is just a cig
drunk dance on the roof-
with you.
I thought I didn't like you
you're on my
your body sinks around mine:
places it doesn't belong.
I wish I didn't like it.
I wish it wasn't you.
“Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.”- Mahatma Gandhi
****************************************************************
Inner Strength
When clouds of despair shroud the mind
And darkness of night veils the soul
It is time one`s anchor to find
And the inner strength to enrol
To avert down a ditch to fall
Or head oneself against a wall.
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