Best Sickled Poems
CRISES IN THE DESERT
written in the effect of religious crisis in Nigeria
Our heart received the message
And tensions well-positioned themselves in the sky.
Heads sought refuge at army barracks;
A world of agony was about to loom
Who cursed that Friday noon?
When the serpent’s deceit erected citadel
Of hatred in peoples heart
The same blood in different capillaries
Rebelling against each other's idealism.
Who could whisper cross?
When star, hung on a sickled-moon dominate our faces
And a thousand songs in Arabic slang marched nearer,
Muslims commandos camouflaged by white gowns;
Armed by guns, arrows and cutlasses.
Alas! the ceremony of blood-bath began
And cry of slaughtered Christian children
Opened the ceremony
And mass-grave gave them merits.
Like sickle on harvesting rice;
Flying cutlasses upon human heads.
Dwarf daggers visited intestines
Smoke-bleeding churches, weeping altars
And smiling blood-dripping heads of ecclesiastics
Danced conga in broad-daylight.
Battered bodies, burning houses and tattered businesses
Were all in attendance..
Demons of despair, agony and hunger
Later paid their tributes.
Prophets of economics later prophesied
That more worms will lick our bellies
written in effect of religious crisis in Nigeria
-Love left nothing to confess-
On two worn crutches
Our love wobbles in
See her heart how cold she trembles
Wheelchair romance lying unassembled
The problems came when nothing said
Comes home at night and lies in bed
Paranoia hates those wrong assumptions
Until the talking two
Became the talking at
In.mid air floats a hanging question
A loving pair that craved destruction?
A ping pong game ignoring all
Enticed by a pale hipnotic ball
Falls to find no safety net
Falls to Earth like a Messerschmidt
Take pity on this broken amputee
How youve hammered and youve sickled me
Sad to see how hard she also tried
A coiled up spring never letting up
And giving up surrendering
Love left nothing to confess
And having left nothing, no forwarding address
Trudging forth from benieth the depths.
My soul digs through my body, searching for the surface.
The orifice that is left of me, has held it, bound and shackled.
There is no light there, no Hell from fire, only darkness.
The Heart that once lit up the Sun, has grown bloody cold.
And what trickled with a Life that flowed so fluidly, has sickled into
a thousand razor sharp blades of ice.
All which remains is brittle and glacier.
The heart of the mountain burst into the endless sea
And here lies the ash in the salt we are washed
Black and white and the grey air between us
Since time first sounded the gunshot to the human race
Footsteps resounds through the smoke and gun powder
Can our vague cause get any louder?
We have settled the earth with good intensions
We have sickled the earth without preservation
And life is a heat wave escaping sharp reason
I remember the ice age through this forest fire
My mind swinging through the fallen branches
My heart singing through the dark trenches
An empty throne for the prince of peace in this time of war
My kingdom scattered all over the kitchen floor
I am sober minded…so let it flow
History has paved the runway back to our future
The burning light clear to our crash-landing
Human nature autopilot-ing
Go saddle me the black black steed
For I am going on a long long journey
Go wipe away the tears that roll
Across brawny cheeks of gypsie lassie.
Fifteen well made men going on their steeds
To get their brides leap over the strand
The brunt hills in search of a namer
Drying fast to justify conscript of land.
Twilled with a broach and a ring wintry
The death stalks the hill with sickled moon
The leaden sheen on the steed’s back
Has turned the night’s face into a roon.
Late late yesterday I saw the moon
Full bodied like a new sickled maned
The death will stalk these streets tonight
And am afraid of downy owl’s nickled bane.
Come on fair ladies hang your hair down
Over the fair head over the abordour
The fifteen men have gone to castle waste
And along came the death to devour.
Go saddle me the black black steed
The merry castle keep has hovelled a cry
Though death stalks every haste and waste
And brawny cheeks of gypsie have gone dry.
....And we knew that life was not our own ?
Kiss the sky her moon she waits; diamond formations
Pearly gates there is no verse to claim this dust: whence borne
Clarity, be visions his burnt ashes their macabre tis no phoenix rising
A theatrical tomb ? Ten thousand shores gathered aneath her sea; fantastical
Lotus lores where diablo sleeps: in hedges be six where time she creeps....
Shadows lurk of broken prose idyllic concessions, fragmented rhyme ? Phantom pages
Flaming tides leviathan swirls a swift reply ? Sickled cross the child awakes; crimson love her reaper, plays.
Sturdy and firm it stands,
Against season and times,
Against the tide of climes,
In its ambience, there're no sinking sands.
Its strength is unrivalled,
It’s a mystery that is unravelled,
At its summit the eagles dear,
There’s no fear of the bear.
A refuge for the weary,
Away from the cold and dreary,
Dying embers are rekindled,
Gloom is sickled.
The sages script about its impressiveness,
They talk about its preeminence,
The feet find their resting place,
They run to its embrace.
April 6, 2023.
Writing Challenge - 'R' Words - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
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)
the steps i've been chasing get lost in the shadows
but my eyes are adjusting so i know where i won't go
i'm safe over here i'm just picking up the pieces
mother wait over there i'll be back in a moment.
No wait! I said wait! i'll be back any second!
i'm almost done now so i can show you i meant it
you're wrong and naive, a little boy turned stupid.
you can plead and you can plead but just look at the symptoms
you're a darkness engulfed, an absence of me!
i taught you the light, what more could you need?
I even gave you the air, you just have to breathe!
but mom the air is all around me and I'm breathing just fine
i know its dark where i stand but believe me I'm kind
and finding the lines, to lead me back to you
i may be sickled from reason but i know that its true
Back when the sweet summer aromas tease the nose
And soulful beach breezes blow
A civic hurricane of hate grows
With the moon hanging sickled
Over the Eucalyptus leaves
Two hearts die and one soul divides
As the Champion no longer breathes
The news comes and then arrives
On the wings of the morning dew
Winds strike with mortal force
Laid her to a half empty bed
Tears rolled fast
As the sparkling fireflies outside
Who fly so high to be in love
With the perfect light that
They exhaust themselves and die
With lashes wet and heavy
Swollen eyes, squinting in the sun
Falling down to sleep
She remembered, fire
Stolen breath woke her, surprised
When the full moon rose
Close to Gemini's mid-night
The Libra spirit awakens
Nocturnal thoughts in her mind
She, who harbors the darkest
Deeds in the nomadic minds
Of wandering widows left
By thoughtless hearts of dutiful dukes honoring cowardly Kings
---
Trapped in silk as the Duke gets hazy
After the lazy westward slipping sun
With thoughts like secrets as she watches
Stars ignite over sandy mountain dunes
Oh, dishonored soul
Don't stop living
Now that love is a memory
And the past is desire
Remember fire, continue like a lioness
Stalking her sleeping prey
Oh that noble duke
Unaware of the danger of eternal darkness
That plunges from his own forgotten sword
Then the night, the stone, his chamber
His heart, her mind, even the clock falls quite silent,
Before breaking screams
---
Alone, slowly traveling, gaze set just ahead
Back to the gypsy tents glowing red,
The duke was dead
Long after the nightly chill's showers
Yet preluding the sun's eastern wake
She wondered, the broken hearted lover, toward the future
What future?
Only now, she had avenged with fire
Justice for her soul's loss,
When Libra inspired
Go saddle me the black black steed
For I am going on a long long journey
Go wipe away the tears that roll
Across brawny cheeks of gypsie lassie.
Fifteen well made men going on their steeds
To get their brides leap over the strand
The brunt hills in search of a namer
Drying fast to justify conscript of land.
Twilled with a broach and a ring wintry
The death stalks the hill with sickled moon
The leaden sheen on the steed’s back
Has turned the night’s face into a roon.
Late late yesterday I saw the moon
Full bodied like a new sickled maned
The death will stalk these streets tonight
And am afraid of downy owl’s nickled bane.
Come on fair ladies hang your hair down
Over the fair head over the abordour
The fifteen men have gone to castle waste
And along came the death to devour.
Go saddle me the black black steed
The merry castle keep has hovelled a cry
Though death stalks every haste and waste
And brawny cheeks of gypsie have gone dry.
If life was dream
Sculpted by death to trace
Within its bound a clarity
Undone by an impassioned heart.
Perhaps death too was a dream
Sculpted by life in fire
On a face sickled in time
To cut the dark night
With scimitar of a moon.
In a lost world
Where should we go?
Which door to knock?
Men with indifferent faces
Women stooped in drunken gait
A world without the word
Veiled figures in attires
Standing at each door.
In the garden
Some blood soaked rags
Hung by the wooden slabs
Where the eyes of a dead man
Looking for ever
On the death’s face
A shock of infinite
Proportions
Across the muted race.
mumma's trynna get my head
out of the mainstream
She said you gotta come on out
despite what you believe
make sense of all these sounds
the screaming while you sleep
can lead you to the ground
to stand on your own feet
you're not too thick to turn around
from sickled shortened feats
the future's happening now
and the reality you breathe
hasn't got the air needed
so you'll see
black untended spots
that haunt your sense of being
but mom the underground is cold
and the warmth is comforting
you're right the future's still untold
but from under this you'll see
the wonder i behold is
light enough to see
light enough to hold
without splitting from the seams.
my direction is adjusting
and i'm definitely running faster
i can tell you're scared of trends
because after all you are my mother
but i'm almost at the end
where i can send most of this away
climb up to the top
and stop just playing games
learn to gently wake the night
without spiting coming days
before we all surely fade on out
from the crowds that fill the space
She sits by the stream of consciousness with the echo of silence
Takes her mind into blistering darkness below false reason’s truth
Down by the water of tears she lights a candle in her mind’s storms
Embraces the sadness of sorrows and rewires misleading thoughts
They called her a witch with no conscience a gipsy lost on the road
Burnt her broomstick branded her skin and confiscated her wagon
Shackled her whistles and bells to hot metal rods and straightjackets
Turned down the heat in the foregone conclusion that she was gone
Yet when the ashes rose she floated on wings of kind forgiveness
Remembered her many friends in Auschwitz in the chambers of hell
She had come prepared in a purple jumpsuit made from asbestos
Forged by history and knowledge that she was stronger than hatred
She assembled a step ladder one rung at a time and slowly ascended
To a waxing moon sickled with hope and compassion into laughter
‘These imbeciles did not take my passion for starlight and wisdom’
‘My tea leaves are stronger and smell of freedom scented in love’
She brought a basket of sandalwood and sweet lavender dreams
And retrieved a besom bequeathed to her by ancestry’s lineage
Looked up to the sky and breathed a prophecy painted from clouds
Sealed her escape with seven locks of her hair and brushed off the dust
15th November 2019
What stings like wasps in hives,
Of trying minds' regret,
Invasive blips, flash frozen pictures,
Recalls, counterfeit,
Serrated icy sickled thoughts,
In glaciated snow,
Dread the warmth, the trickled stream,
Of thawing reapers' sown,
Sipping from the melt embibes,
The swarming, claustrophobic choke,
Alone the white hot heat of heart,
Scatters them with smoke.