Best Glo Poems


Poetry Is My Insanity

Poetry is my insanity


Poetry is my insanity, 
sparks collected on flat mirrored walls,
frantic phrases floating
in a spectrum’s pulsating palette, 
picturing Dali-esque icicle melted webs
and chromatic landscapes
blurring in the distance

Dancing to the demented sounds
of brain cells singing, Zappa inspired
A cappella rhythmic compositions,
ringing monotone echoes
in between Jupiter and the ghosts
counting off beat pendulum swings
on fingers and toes

Words with eyes, they see, they stare
they blink, they close,
wandering attic crawl spaces
casting neon shadows,
illuminating ideas
passed on to the next pair
lashing out as another retreats

Pulling on my heart,
squeezing every last thought of love,
oozing in blacklight ink, day-glo sunrises
of roach clip offerings on psychedelic posters,
depicting ceramic moons
fluttering midst crayon heavens
eating stardust candy…

Poetry is my insanity
and it is driving me crazy…
in the best possible way

Premium Member Caution - Fireworks

E-Z Glo Punk, Lightning Flash,
TNT Devices will burst, do crash
Southern Night, Piccolo Petes
       are hard to beat...

I like hand held Sparklers, Tanks
 flashing fountains, Solar Flare
 Six to #20 Gold I have to share,
 no incidence, no burns, thanks...

  Whistles blow, fountains glow,
 pop'n sounds, entire sky all aglow
 I love those colors, high an low
  trails eched onto my retina
  inspired me to let ya know

  Now you close both eyes
in pitch dark, what a surprise
  for you to see, right there
 darkness, absolutely  anywhere
beautiful trails of lights in motion
 
"Always read a label of caution"

I'M So In Love With You''

when i met you i diden't know our hearts 
were goinga be one. 
i did not know you was goinga rock my world with just the sight of a glo.
you have made me love again to feel there is light after the darkness .
i know this is love in my heart /and soul because 
when i'm with you i am the most happyest  woman in the whole world 
and i pray deep down in my soul you feel the way i love you 
you always want me here with you too never let me go.

i have found my soulmate the one i'd die for the one i wanna love and live for 
for the rest of my life here on earth i wanna share my life / my love and all my been with you . i just hope you feel my heart as i feel this way for you. i will never part you and never betray you you are my life time soul mate . 
i pray each night you feel my soul as i feel yours if only in  our dreams .
someday i wish to be your wife and too be yours forever . 
and you be mine. 
god willing we will see it through because there's know truer love me me or you .
© Alisa Cook  Create an image from this poem.


Rule Your World

I have no world of mine
My world is that of the beginning
Full of void, trouble and chaos
And on sojourn to an abysmal pit

I have no world in my word
For there is no word to vivid my world  
Anguish, pain, hopelessness is of my world
Still looking forward to a world 
Not only of empty words
But that of freedom which twirls joy in my world

I still thought I have no world of mine
Until I met an emerging movement
Sweeping all with an unimaginable pride
It restored our hope with hope
As we started glowing with pride

For the first time in our life
Our world began to have meaning
We sigh . . . breath in with joy
As it wore for us a toga of fulfillment
And gave us cap of opportunities 
Alas! we experienced peace and love
With a beaming smile full of triumph
We begin to rule our world.


Alayande Stephen T.
11.15am
8th March, 2007

On my way to Ijanikin for Bukky’s Graduation I School, 
Waiting for Daddy and Mummy at Mosalasi, Iyana-Ipaja, Lagos.
It is a special one for Nigerian and African brightest and fastest growing 
Telecommunication brand called GLO, whose latest slogan is
 “Rule your world”.

His Name Is Jesus

A dignitary, a friend, a father, a king
The only king that was born in a manger
And ended up as a manager
And now sits in the heavens
Making the earth his footstool
As the overall manager
That after now, anyone who still sees him as a stranger
Is already in danger

As a manager, he doesn’t have a P.A
Yet can never make mistakes
He is the only manager who does not need a coach
Before he can feature his mercy in your life’s tournament
In the league of champions or champions league
He is always at the top of the table
He is the only manager whose love for his fans is more concentrated than acid

Do you want to feel high?
Take him like your drink
Smoke him like your grass
Because he is the most high
In fact, that makes me call him my royal highness

I call him the faithful pastor
The first and last prophet
The origin and insertion of creation
The magistrate of our efficiency
Our burden bearer

Some call him the beginning and the end
But I call him
God at the beginning, 
God at the end
And God in between
Cause he is the one who began the beginning
Yet did not begin in the beginning
Because the beginning couldn’t have begun
If the beginner just began in the beginning 

With him, you can be sure that life is good
Because he is more reliable than LG
With him, you don’t need either Glo or MTN networks
To rule your world everywhere you go

You don’t need a face book page to like him
You don’t need a twitter account to follow him
You don’t need a Google map to search for him
You don’t need a blackberry pin to ping him

All you need to do is to subscribe to heavenly free BIS now
And enjoy free life’s unlimited data

His name is JESUS

Jesus is the key
And if Jesus is the key, 
Then any life without him is titled “off key”.
© Great Jaja  Create an image from this poem.

Forever

When I'm with you
I slip away
Dream all day in black and grey

Hands held tight 
No worries or fights
Cuddle so close
All threw the night

When I'm with you
I glo so bright
Not a single tear 
or sigh in sight

I want you forever
Would that be alright?

Together forever
No end in sight.

 Kalee Lynn


Premium Member Remembering the 1980's

Barbie, Atari, He-man 
Batman, She-Ra, Ronald Reagan
Indiana Jones, and landline phones
The Dark Crystal and around 5.2 billion people 
Andre the Giant’s Honeycomb commercial 
Rainbow Brite, Jem, and Rose Petal 
Welcome to the Jungle, Cheers! Metal 
Mike Tyson, Debbie Gibson, Teddy Ruspin 
And the best Christmas carolers are Gremlin
Taxi, the DMV Scene, "What does the yellow light mean?" 
Young Guns, Russians, Charlie Sheen 
Sony’s Walkman, Michael Jackson, and Tom Cruise 
What was fake news or social media reviews?
Reebok, Converse and Keds shoes
Glo Worm, Nintendo and playdough
The Burbs, Rambo, and Willow
KB Toys, Sam Goody, And Gemco stores 
Return of the Jedi and Disney’s Star Tours
Floppy disk computer and Punky Brewster 
The Family Ties and spoiler alert Optimus Prime dies

Updated 5/14/2019
© G. Jay  Create an image from this poem.

Glo

Written September 11, 2013


Well I was just a boy
Living down in San Fransisco
In the city by the bay
And I wanted more from life
Than my childhood could give
Every time I crossed a bridge
The whole town burned to the ground

And then one day
I met you down by the blood bank
In that sketchy part of town
Where the hipsters turn around
And drugs roam free
Just like you and just like me
Just like how we used to be

You are my archangel
You sing to me, Gabriel
You tell me where to find
The gravel on the street
And you hold me to the ground
When I hear Peter call for me
And the lights rush to the scene

As I lie here in the alley
Sweet dreams of crystal valleys
Waltz deep within my mind
As the canvas fades to black
And the vultures sweep below
Much like falling dominoes
Set in motion by the glo

Another Day Another Accursed Blank Screen

Another Day...Another Accursed Blank Screen

Ma wink'n and blink'n
     mind nod yet awake,
     nor insights keen,
asper ho hum usual, this
     (day-glo bull leave
     me you) after noon,
     (October thirtieth
     two thousand and eight teen),

mine myopic brown
     marbled occipital orbs
     fixate upon a
     lone blinking cursor -
     hooping such intense stare
     will magically glean
a divine comedy,
     or even mediocre

     shaky spear writ tragedy, none
     the less letting thoughts
     glom (cess) pool like
     into some elusive essence,
     finding me madly chasing
     (feebly, lamely, queerly
     and ridiculously
     likened to a teen

age paramour) intriguing,
     nattering, and wordlessly
     spellbinding notion
     all the way to Abilene,
     perhaps metamorphosing
    into a topnotch 
     poem (ska lean),
swiftly tailored harried

     style even out rivaling
     the best newsy
     Lake Woebegone fabulist
     (formerly Nordic European)
scribes, that juiced might earn
     me some crisp 
     legal tender green,
yet impetus to write,

     NOT predicated on ram
     ping up checking account,
     which primary queen
tis essential money source
     of mine to pay bills
     appears extremely lean,
and thus apologize if
     any hint of desperation

     (PULL EASE pledge to
     Matthew Scott Harris charity)
     seeps extemporaneously typing
     this poetic expression,
     when financial resources
     picked bone dry clean,
and me fanciful
     thoughts cannot help

     wishing for miraculous
     intervention tub bring,
     a raft of smiley faces
     tomb eye gentle mien
such as receiving
     an anonymous bajillion
     dollars donated (tummy)
     from tennis scene legend

     (in her own mind)
     aery Billy Jean
King, whose near
     exhaustive earnings -
     at least compared
     to thy germane mein kampf
     (accrued during - her mist
     starry re:us horse sing around)

     straw berry fields
     forever hay day
     with tangerine trees, 
     and marmalade skies
     completing tennis 
     (tense) backdrop against
     engendered match with 
     the late Bobby Riggs.

The Bull Does Not Always Die

The black smooth rough hide of midnight dark
Rivulets of dusty sweat leaping off
As he ran and dodged and feinted and attacked
The man, day-glo matador, flashing eyes and sword.

The baying crowd dry-throating the challenge and the curse
The black leaping forward to the cloak-cape-wall
Swelling eyes, and angry mind, a spear a jockey
Deep in his side, bouncing and jolting, searing stab.

The folds of the cape enfold his head and horns
His blindness concentrates the pain of the blade’s harpooning
His tempter bullet spins, back facing his final havoc wrought
Ivory hook of gristle, piercing the skin, kissing the heart, extinguishing the lights.

Feel Me

I do it for the boys, the girls, men, the women,
plus Allah's unborn children look how I'm living
it's similar to, your situation no money making,
just chips and egg crates in front the Playstation.
Cable's late again my real friends know my struggle,
a rough 9 to 5 plus supplying studio time is my hussle.
It's just my father, Jibri, and I shacked in a shack
shackled to a broken home with no
welcome mat get back.
Everysince my mother left the building,
the feeling ain't the same pain is building
rain is killing the window pain.
Winters are harsh man, but I can take it though
as long as I'm wrapped up in these blankets
I'm a make it man.

I do it for the emcees, the djs, the b-boys, the b-girls,
hip hop is a growing culture plus it's a free world.
Free to manifest expressions,
free to rep your section focused over nice composures
flowing until the night is over.
Don't be like me just be like the music you like
use right rhyme and reason choose nice lines and preach them.
Watch the ones leeching watch who you be with frequent
cause you can end up with your dreams slowly sinking.
Only you can make it in this, it's a business,
forget the fame listen use your senses don't be senseless.
Be patient and grind hard if waiting to shine start
slanging tapes on my block & your block it don't stop.
Hit up every spot around,
it's a milion of us trying to get a milion bucks and
chill in a vila feeling the cool breeze.
I'm am who me.
the same easy dude speaking jeweles
do you I'm a do me.

I started off young with a pen and a pad lyrics I had
before that I scribbled on scraps forget about class.
Entered school thinking of rap,
grades sinking in math
twas either skip, go home, or sit in the back.
During lunch I read what I wrote
they said it was dope, within battles
no one put Bomb Threat on the ropes.
Six years later I.....left to go solo felt I was hopeless
in a group that wasn't hungry only one supplying money me.
Then the south was united, two years later divided
but Mama Glo, had the best ideas,
but I, down no man no way no how
cause if you make it in this game from the heart I'm proud.
FLA I will make this official rake up a pencil
for Jenah's sake I'm a make it
and mention you on an instrumental.
That's a promise I'm honest, show me love back
hold me down
southside is us you gotta love that.

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Lieg

Lieg 

Herhaaldelik en gereeld soos net in 7de laan
Was geheimnisse en liegstories die haat wat uit jou gaan.
Ek natuurlik, onderskei, kon binne in my voel
Oortuigend jou nie glo nie, soos water van my rug afspoel.

Vermydelik soos ‘n kindjie wat die rusies net wou keer
Het ek my hart se oe gesluit vir dit wat sou gebeur.
Indien die leun ontbloot sou word – ek jou sou konfronteer
Beskerm jy jou weergawe, al maak dit ander seer.

Die grootste waarheid was dat jy nie meer kon lieg.
Wat ek in jou belê het, het jy vertrap, bespuug!
Toe ek besluit ek kon nie meer, en ek myself onttrek
Ontmasker jy jou broeisel - tesame met jou gek!

In minder as ‘n week of twee het jy my plek gevul
Met meer as een of twee, dis duidelik jy’t gekul.
As jy so vinnig aanbeweeg en my nie eers wou sê;
Wil ek net een ding van jou weet: - Het jy my ooit al lief gehê?

I See Her In the Sunlight

Grandma Bertie” 

I see her in the sunlight 
On a bright, clear, day 
I see her milking cows on 
A farm in her younger days, 

I see her in the sunlight 
In her kitchen making bread, 
Chasing 17 children who’s 
All wanting to be fed. 

I see her in the sunlight 
With the church doors open wide 
I can hear her singing hymns 
Like the sweet by and by 

I see her in the sunlight with 
Grandpa Alston by her side. 
Their hair is turning grey now 
With lots of Grandchildren 
About 105 

I see her in the sunlight at 
Her home on Butterbean Ridge 
She took in a dog named Racheal, 
And was really glad she did 

I see her in the sunlight sitting 
Alone in her rocking chair 
Grandpa Alston passed away now, 
It’s been about 6 years. 

I see her in the sunlight feeling 
Tired and all worn out. She say’s 
My children, I feel soon I’ll no 
Longer be about. 

I see her in the sunlight. Again 
The church doors open wide. Her 
Sons are carrying their mother 
Through the church doors one 
Last time. 

I see her in the sunlight with a 
Heavenly Glo on her face. 
She says if anyone to join me, 
God’s Path they must take 

I’ll always see her in the sunlight, 
On a bright or cloudy, in the 
Wind,snow or rain. She’ll 
Always be in my Heart to stay. 
11/96 by charlotte newman 
Written for my Grandma who passed away

Stormy Monday

Sheet whites billow into balloons
then thin to sickled moons; light
oozing out in an opaline Day-Glo…

Rich mist spreads, spraying wider
milk-bright swirls of a snowstorm…
Yetling wind turns into yeti, crazy!

Mountain’s giant sham
of eiders’ fluffy-soft; so 
newly hatched penguin,
deep-dives into ice-bird:
A hard-beaked miasma
yielding as diamond ply…

(12/22/2022 For Winter Storm contest)

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