Best Redraw Poems
He would visit the wharf of the pond very often
Peace and joy writ large on his lips and eyes
He would whistle a tune to call the shoal of fish
From inside the water as well as from his heart
The clouds got intimate with the flirting sunlight
Like a comfortable poem the shoals appeared
In three or four groups they would come up to
He would look like gleefully chatting with them
In wonder would look on the tales in the reeds
Shadows of tall palms played hide and seek
He would feed them as if they were his children
Sometimes he just talked on with no motivation
Their movement would raise ripples in the pond
Inside would pulsate an impressionist painting
The euphoria in water would erase and redraw
Clouds in loud colours would go down the water
And would watch in wonder the blue rendezvous
He shed the foliage of his unquenched passion
Into the mother water that with a purple comfort
Would convert them in the lotus of his heartbeat
Country folks remarked he must have been a fish
In his previous birth in a very deep pool or lake
No, others would say, an angel accompanied him
In his surreal bridge of love for the water and soil
The mahogany at the roadside would smile a little
He would write so well his poem inside the water
Where human and piscine tongues would meet
Time halted a while in the warm breasts of geese
As the sessions came to an end he would depart
Sweet and salty sweat-drops would wet his shirt
_______________________________________
14 March 2017
Yesterday I caught the drift of a word
Almost at the end of Dr. Ram?s words
That I had it all, three in one, with music and no regrets
Stirred my mind and made me think
What regret really means
I suppose Regret is the truant of history
Often sneaking out of the schoolroom of the past to torment present time
...seeking a meek heart to mess with
But time has taught me to be wise
Hence I now know how to turn Regret into a good child
The secret is in offering him the candy of time
The present is just what it means
A present to be justly cherished
If I share it?s gift with the regrets of the past
Sure, Regret will turn into a good child
And Regret?s deeds will fill my heart with pride
The power is in time
Each a new opportunity eager to be of service
As soon as yesterday bids bye, today arises to take its place in haste
And it brings in its wake
...the promise of forgiveness, reconciliation and reconstruction
In each day I find a newer canvas to repaint my dreams
And since yesterday I tried another style and failed
Today I?m that bit wiser
So I will try again with better skill...
To redraw the masterpiece of a life I dream in colours so beautifully vivid
So yes Dr. Ram,
Thanks-a-ram for reminding me how lucky I am
I owe it all to time
For teaching me how to turn Regret into a better child
Filled with lessons which I study
Tomorrow in my life there?ll be less like his kind
Hey Doc! Thanx-an-awesome-lot 4 the kind words u post of my poems!
This is especially 4 u!
I viewed an ocean that I could not reach.
Water beckoned me but my path was blocked.
The rocky boulders protected the beach,
Leaving me a glimpse from my window panes.
The rocks seemed to smile at me whom they mocked,
And when the clouds greyed, it gave me remorse
That my travels were stopped by rock's cruel chains,
And I chose instead to redraw my course.
I moved from my home by sea and by beach.
Good-bye to the ocean that I couldn't reach.
a fire breaks out in his pants
whenever she walks into the room
but she just laughs
at how quaint he is
she has eyes only for the old man at
the end of the bar
his beat era leather socks are just up her alley
his pocket protector lifestyle is just
the thing for her wedding plans
she could always see herself
with his type of narrow shoe smart fella
he leaves her and her lover
at the dark bar
and wanders the lobster cages
looking to trap the feelings
that made him feel like
unconquerable king john
with his magna carta series pen
but this night is too full of babe sweet
and her pocket protector cowboy
so he goes home
to lay on his bed on imaginary nails
and suffer all the trials that good men should
wants to be worthy for the pay off
wants to be in line for the pearly gates
babe sweet and her man
live up the coast now
they own a bed an breakfast catering to the insane
who write great novels
on the walls in crayon
and spend their nights
hanging out on the roof singing ballads
to babe sweet
and her cowboy who lasso's the moon
its a wonderful life plays on the tv
every night year round
cause thats the dream they are sellin
that if you work hard
someday itll pay off
jerry garcia's picture hangs
in the lobby
he looks out at the changed world
with the shocked expression
of how did all these people miss the point
as the just go on beating eachother up
and crashing the gates
he is in the back room of babe sweets place
hiding from all the gretchens
and trying to redraw the lines of reality
we all got lost out there
gotta reinvent yourself
before the gretchens and the hangers on tear it all down
gotta bend the road before it bends you
just like unconquerable king john
The drop that was sucked this afternoon
was the last one. The sea went dry.
From the moment the hungry cat in the painting
transferred the sea into its stomach
the black and white picture turned blue.
The sea jumps from one branch to the other.
In the gentle warmth of the kitchen
sleeps the sea with soft undulating waves.
A boy relentlessly chases away the sea.
The sea with its tail bouncing,
rushes into the street only to be hit by a bus
and lies injured on the street.
The sea wobbles on the street
with waves murmuring softly, softly.
I redraw the cat in the painting.
The strokes turn into waves
Gushing all over the walls.
Sides, perspectives, religion, skin color, culture, all of the above are things that individually we all have. No matter how strongly you feel about something no one will ever 100% understand what exactly you feel about said "thing". That is why as human beings we communicate. If we had found a way to connect our minds and see through the eyes of our fellow brother or sister words would be unnecessary, and we would see nothing then. Only misunderstanding and misconceptions make us human. We try and portray perfection and right and wrong through our culture but that is also just a part of perspective. And since human beings will only know what their own personal true feelings are 100% we will never be able to reach a new level in which we would have to redraw the meaning of perfection.
Weak mindedness is a massive curse and blessing humans have. It's a curse because if someone else's actions effects you negatively you will feel inclined to approach this subject and express your distaste, whilst on the other hand it's a blessing because without it we wouldn't be able to show compassion. For example (personA) becomes friends with (personB) and (personC). Then (personA) talks about how it feels about some type of "movement" happening, (personB) might totally get what (personA) is talking about due to the fact that they share similar feelings about it. But (personC) due to human's innate weak mindedness gets upset by (personA)'s words and retaliates with some snarky comment to insult (personA). (PersonB) now having shared some of it's feelings to (personA) and coming to an common consensus("allowing [personA]'s words to effect it"), gets defensive of (personA) and attacks (personC) verbally.
The whole idea of my way of thinking is too try and subtly allow myself to take on a role in which i don't allow outward negative forces effect my life path.
The only true end to the mind is death.
Torture and suffering couldn't tear my mind from my body cause even at my last breath the only person taking that breath is me.
The glimpse of something recognizable; meant seeing her, only see would be with him, and us together had been strained to exhaustion. But maybe the magic of night might give way to forgiveness and love. maybe the need of belonging might have her to wish me as hers again!
the appearance of love
weirded by the tensions
of being stressed.
Strains from obligation
or lack of concern
and desire to satisfy.
What words redraw
the duty of love
the premise
of understanding
to betray his trust
that he might labor
to make treaty
and than be undermined
by her need for attention
and her desire to be
with others.
his lack of commitments
and his eagerness to
control.
Yet the understanding
where his need
to be secured
and have his
woman to be
truthful and precise.
not giving names to
those she don't know
or causing problems
with others
to have clarity and answers
instead of invoking her
naiveness to her man
so that he can assure
his woman.
stressed from situation
they become comedy for
those who know them
and are then easily
made into speckitals
for potential future
meddling
making stories of people
to entertain those
they wish to impress
and make examples of
to cause fear for others.
From the Book " the Spetikal" @021 Written by Cor Da Cacca and P. Yannick.
Why do we meddle in our family members relationships.By Talc Vetiuos and Seager Toopie.
A dream that came into my life
With an eye look
With a simple chatting word
With a simple hand shake
With a pure smile on the face
This all lead my heart to shake
Out of happiness and Joy!
It was a memorable day
When I knew it is coming true
Yet, some fear was inside
The fear of one day losing you..
But still,
Days passed on and here I stood
Next to you during the days,
Sharing your dreams at night
Feeling your words before you speak
Just by looking through your eyes..
It is a perfect time that we shared
One of a kind, that
Made my life dance out of excessive bless
Just by having you beside me..
Ups and downs! Yes,
Still life goes on..
Love is not about words,
But actions as well
And here I am
Facing the world alone,
Going to change
for Myself and for YOU..
To prove to you that
I DO REALLY LOVE YOU!
I am learning my lesson
And changing for myself,
But still, for that special person as well..
I can move on without anyone
But I do not want to lose one day in my life
Without being with him
Life is too short to spend it away,
One day I am here,
The next I will be there
But the only constant is that
No matter where I am,
In my heart you will be engraved.
No matter where it shall end,
Will this changing time on my side turn to be
Either The beginning of the best
When with you, I shall eternally rest
Or will it be the beginning of the
True, painful end
When you will decide to move on
And leave me behind?
I cant guarantee..
But all I know is that,
I wish you the happiness in the world
Either with me or away
Because Id rather die
Than having you in my life
When you are not truly happy from inside…..
Still, I shall do my best
to redraw the smile on your face
but if it did not work out
so ... unfortunately
there is nothing else in my hands to do..
Yet.. Passion is filling my heart,
That one day things will go in line again
Everything shall be fine
And I will feel his hand touch,
I will dive in his hug
And have his love
As my surrendering, motivational life drug.
Till this moment life will be tough
But I am surely hoping that at the end it will positively and happily paidy off!
So great and succulent they are; the
grasses here in the shores of Nigeria,
pure with an umbrella of sovereignity;
I have seen the green grasses of Nigeria.
I have seen the elephant grasses at home;
a peck of abundance they are built together,
I have sit with the Hibiscus down the street;
unity is their core value standing for men.
They are the drum war of the anarchist,
a culture preserver, gainer of hope drive;
trust of doctors, imaginations of poets,
Birds abode showering nomadic wish;
I have seen the dream grasses of Nigeria.
I have seen the grasses of mother Nigeria,
with skills to change the Lead men in town,
they are pens man to redraw the earth's beauty;
I know the grasses planted in Nigeria's fields.
It chased the sun into a-hiding in the noon,
waving with hands singing of praises,
rain tapping on their palms to create peace;
I have seen the beautiful grasses of Nigeria.
I know the grasses of Nigeria surroundings,
I have the grasses of Nigeria gallantly created,
green tendrils-sprouting with a pretty rain drops,
making our nights a-chilling and young lovers
Cuddling freely with no shame in their eyes.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Vincent Of Vincent 2016
.
The tearaway, youthful runaway
Running for a lifetime, blocked out
Brick wall, but, those same
Old demons stuck to your back
Demon wings like barnacles
To the hull of your iron heart
Beating under apron strings
Ever since "Daddy" left, Electra
You have been a tulip, caught
In a Slavic winter. Redraw
The map. Nazi Prussian blues
To London, America. The United
States of absolute; the growing
Ground for your misanthropy. Awfully
Unfortunate; yet ever giving
We feast upon your tortured
Soul. Black gold ink
The slurry you bleed upon us
Rich in image with a sick
Sense of humour; like laughing
In a morgue or spitting jokes
Upon a fresh grave. Ach du!
The same old jar, pickled flesh. Gott!
A foetus. What a tortured mind can
Breathe to life in the fold of a
Notepad; the centrefold...Paula Brown
The world in two, waiting for a saviour
Superman or Nazi gas. The house drowned
In complete, ravenous silence as you fell asleep.
my life is Scrabble
random words with not much sense
redraw, start from scratch
Oh, lovely boy, what is it that you desire?
To incite the rage of man, and set the world afire?
Redraw the map and claim your crown?
For no pursuit is higher?
What a web of dreams you dream,
the kingdom of a spider.
Oh, lovely boy, how soundly could you sleep?
If you've heard the prayers I've heard, and seen the women weep.
Redraw the map and claim your crown?
And ALL the gold, you'll keep?
What a tragic hole you dig,
you'll never know how deep.
Oh, lovely boy, want words of mine to hear?
Drop the sword from calloused hands, and hold a woman dear.
Redraw the map and claim your crown,
with your Queen that will be near.
For nothing more is precious in life,
than wiping joy caused tears.
Wondering in loneliness,
Things couldn't work well,
Made top up of happiness,
Had a new soldier to repel,
From an axis of reluctance,
Marked with a leopard blood,
You meant a lot not to reminisce,
The future holds no black cat,
Only when a little bed demand a prize,
I revered back to a slavery song,
Till your shadow gets cast on ground,
Millions attest of a great fall,
Voice of memory,...that's all I redraw,
Voice of memory,...brings you right here,
Forget true ignominy I wear,
You're no more furtive,
Your presence made me sensitive,
A knock on a door,
Who might hesitate to respond?
Finally when you came in,my faith rolled,
Anytime you're welcome at home,
The past never broke.
I am looking for a blueprint for love
the one I've once felt about you.
The perfect blue paper
that helps me figure things out
that tells secrets about a lover's skin and sighs
- the ones I knew as yours.
Now I wish to redraw, then admire its design:
relearn, then follow its patterns
down to my very heart.
I want to rebuild its structure,
recreate the way that is no more,
to have the perfect edition of it;
a guide to my true self,
the one who once knew what it felt like
to be in love with someone like you.
I came for a moment
to find the hidden treasure
in rocks of your heart.
I am not a dream but fact
which can redraw boundaries
between people and countries.
If I have one day to live
I shall spend it in your quest
to find my spirit in your flesh.
Blood can’t be replaced by water
or love returned with enmity
or sin termed as sanctity.
Empty stomach accepts charity
a lover loses his dignity
in pursuit of his fairy.
I came for a moment but spent
a lifetime worshipping beauty
of your soul, face and body.
My fate hangs in balance
but mortals can’t wait for ever,
I need your selfless offer.
The weak don’t have much time,
they need help to breathe again
to sustain life and cure pain.