Best Youths Poems
~ with the glasses of love - always on the hunt - my first kiss ~
03/09/2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
My Most Unforgettable Moment in HighSchool
Sponsored by: JCB Burl
14 syllables
1st place in the contest
Why the standing of African new generation?
African youths come with words not swords,
African youths come with motivational songs
not guns sounds,
African youths come with celestial orders
not demoniacs,
African youths come with true love not discriminations.
Why the standing of African new generation?
African youths standing for peace in all places
African youths come with good visions,
African youths standing for equal rights,
African youths standing with all the victims
of neo-colonisation for better future for all.
African new generation standing to make Africa better.
July 3/2023
YOUTHS AND DRUGS
Youths are the nation's pride
They're the precious treasure
Spread all over far and wide
Their values beyond measure
Their minds're fragile as bubble
Characters akin to a wet cement
Easily they jump into trouble
Must act fast, later no lament
Innocence rules them by birth
Environment puzzles the minds
They want happiness and mirth
But some souls simply blinds
Unaware of the consequences
Gets hooked up by addiction
Slowly they lose their defences
Well-wishers turn to benediction
Substances hyptonise his brain
Controlled by them, he's a robot
Helplessness is a dreaded pain
Addiction he has already bought
Late, it isn't to get resurrected
From the abyss of drug's hell
Let your life be fully corrected
And be back to the world, well
© Tshering Wangchuk
Bhutan ????
CHORUS FOR DOOMED YOUTHS
how fortunate are you, Child?
I couldn't abort you.
now I've given birth to you
and nothing shall
kill
your breath--- till
you tell this truth.
you have come:
to live and to love.
I name you Deft-Daft
you're like Jabez;
borne out of the sorrow
of my marooned heart.
you're my child, be also my herald.
Go ye
to that tribe of kooky tune-smiths
and tell them; tell them
how deft their sound
how daft their lyrics
how doggone their voices
how gaga their listeners
how savage their songs
how brief their existence.
tell them! tell them
tell those loony song-smiths--
whose choruses are chanted in all
wacky-wacko-psycho muster--
to chant the beauty of nature
and cover her nakedness.
tell them! tell them
how their ignoble lyrics
defile the minds of the young
and ravage the mind of the sages.
singing, dancing, capering
grinding, swinging, raving
smoking, drinking, prattling
buying, selling, fighting
feel-highing, bubbling, hurting...
dying of excessive pressure for treasure;
dying for excessive measure of pleasure.
tell them! tell them
their errant lyrics
bear bawds and brainless brawn
whose thew thaw in stew!
sing- dance- darkness- phew!
watery lyrics filled with chaff
to rouse demented youths.
their music, their fall;
their melody, their pall.
tell them! tell it to them.
then like an Abiku
die your final death.
when you are reborn
to live your final life,
I shall rename you Deft-Deft
They surrendered to Virtue all they had, tears
They gained from society( 'twas all they yearned for) tranquility
They sang songs so serene:-
"Oh, blessed is the shunner of all forms of evil!"
And perched on tower-tops
While the city went out and commenced
Jumping walls topped by sharp-edged-jagged pieces of china and glass
Door-breaking and stuttering rifles.
In eloquent gestures and mazy motions,
They recited poems pregnant with emotions:-
"It took yesterday's madmen to
Build a better today
One cannot make a fundamental change
Without a certain degree of madness!"
While corrupt preachers, politicians, policy-makers
Reiterated their usual rhetoric.
The rhytms and rhymes of political ruthlessness
They painted pictures so loud:
Black guns circled and crossed in red.
They stuck the paintings on hospital walls,
Schools, churches, playgrounds and market stalls.
Patients, nurses and prechers
Vendors, doctors and teachers
Were awe-struck as the questioned, "Who are they?"
I whispered, "Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
Their soles maimed sinuously the city tarmac
Their voices pierced the polluted atmosphere
Their banner sang volumes:-
"USE COMMON SENSE NOT CRIMINAL SENSE!"
While the peace saboteurs used violence as a tool
To keep the elite few
In top rule
Shunning majority rule
And treating the majority as one fool.
Thus, at Africa Unity Square
The march on Harare ended sincere.
Huge was their number, and their agenda clear
One of them whistled a tune
It lasted till noon.
Then I heard a whispering pulse
In my ear
A whispering pulse
Of evil eroded clear,
"Youths, to Vice and to Crime Unknown."
African youths on good moves
As they understand the situation which moves
Day and night for their benefits
and of others
No matter how they face more challenges
here and there.
They can still focus on some good points
Which concern peace in the world,
development of African economy,
African one currency
and Africa of free borders.
African youths on good moves
African mineral resources
Will be a big reserve to strengthen
the African new currency to stand
with other top world currencies.
Massive youngsters
will be the large productive labours
and consumers
in the continent regularly.
July 19/2023
What else is more pleasurable for the youth,
when they are able to stand amongst the youth;
When they are not instructed by the old,
but are then able to choose their path on own;
When they tread steps beyond the comfort zone,
and see with eyes their own, the world and truth;
The youth has now to face the future tough,
the days are gone of how that old had grown;
The old once had stood in bright sunlight,
but time is now of youth to win the fight.
Note: Hey, how are you doing, fellow poets and readers?! It has been a long time since I've uploaded a poem on here. One year and three months, to be precise. This poem is something that I had written back in 2020, when I was still in my adolescent glory, with hope and dreams. Though I've not been through extremes, growing up still had it's toll, especially in the pandemic, where I was sad, frustrated, lazy, and lonely many-a-times. Though I'm not sure if I'll be writing poems regularly from now on, I do like writing poems, and will share them with you guys. Hope you enjoy my poems!!
The sun shall rise again but
not in our season of songs this time,
because we are strange to it glamouring light.
We sparkle and shine not among its Galaxy of hope,
an unformidable corrupt youths are we...
we've abandoned the oja for a modernised recorder,
our feastful brain rest in the betting centres
riding in foolishness with foolish camels.
We've abandoned tradition to ijebu field,
Our mistful hearts amidst shrouded embraces,
shutting down tinted believe of our future!
We've forgotten the clamouring route of greatness
and seek for yahoo means of breaking the air.
Now, we look for golden rotten pastures to carpet our steps,
telegram my messages to the youths of Nigeria,
email my tears to the youths of Africa in Europe,
send my cries to the youths of The soil all over,
tell them we have failed the sands and the oceans.
They've made the sky bleed blood again and again,
we have no more Odumegwu In our clan any more,
we have no more Okonkwo Achebe to blow the oja.
We have youths of Betnaija and Nairabet in our land,
strange to themselves, strange to their dreams.
Grandpa didn't sing this song like we sing today,
grandma was powerful like Amino.
the barn is getting empty with blink of an eyes,
beat the gong to the hearts of our ladies,
let them know facebook does not sound like kitchen!
The boys must know that instagram is not a home
for marriage- Nadia is fake, artificial life lives there.
Civilization have strangled us from the sane paths,
blind, sorrowful, lost are we to the core!
The sun shall rise again and again and again,
from Lagos to Karina, From Abuja to Abia,
Imo, calabar, Onitsha and Benue and Kogi.
But not in this seasonal transgression of our deeds,
to build houses the hands of generation of strange youths.
©John Chizoba Vincent
Cam'god
The youths of our nation
Is like a "Fossil" floating on the sea of humanity
Nothing more than "a Vestigial Remnant"
A generation destined to disappear
So let us reclaim our disconnected youths
They are the future and they're our fruits
©Copyright December 27, 2009 by Brian Pierre-Alexander
© All Rights Reserved
YOUTHS, LET'S DREAM
Let's dream
the dreams of tomorrow,
pillowless and without mattress.
Let's dream
the dreams of tomorrow,
dreams without a single snore!
The dreams
of days to come.
The dreams
of what we want.
Let's dream
of a distant time.
Let's dream
of our later sons.
The dreams
of our aim and goals.
The dreams
of how we'll grow.
Let's dream
the dreams of a giant man.
Let's dream
the dreams of a great wise man.
The dreams
of deceased corruption.
The dreams
of buried extortion.
Let's dream
a dream of a moral world.
Let's dream
a dream of a peaceful world.
Dream O' youth
dream on...
Dream
of a great nation.
Dream O' youth
dream on...
Wake up
and begin to dream!
Like a cheetah that's a natural born sprinter
Tobi Amusan is the world fastest female sprinter
And like an American Quarter Horse
Tobi Amusan has become a discourse
Having proven to be the world best
In Oregon's and Birmingham's contest
The hurdler's emergence is certainly unsudden
A lesson for he who with his ambition plays chicken
Like every tree with a seed to bear a kind of fruit
Every youth is challenged by this to be resolute
If only we have a sense of acuteness
Every man is created with a seed of greatness
Whoever isn't resolute with his seed is a failure
And a failure is always a lone creature
Except your seed becomes a gigantic tree
No one will come to you like they gather for apple bee
Tobi Amusan has become a market of horny bee
And a gigantic tree for everyone to come and see
The kind of paragon every youth need to bear a good fruit
Maybe by this they too can become resolute
That in spite of our system that kills impetus
Or the hurdle or detritus that life may bring to us
Like Tobi Amusan, we too can glide over such
To be congratulated like she whose records bear a good touch
Bavila youths
Rise up
And
Act quickly
Stand up
And
Speak loudly
Don't give up
And
Continue speaking
The truth daily
Bivila youths,
Have faith
And truth.
Trust yourselves
As youngsters
Who can shine than stars
On the top stairs.
Far deep within the woods, there is a seldom-trodden trail
Whose winding way is paved along by rustling, fallen leaves
And flanked by ancient maple trees. This nest of branches weaves
The woodland spirits’ canopy, in autumn hued and pale.
To reach this path, explorers must traverse the hurdling crests
Of stately mountains guarded keenly day and night, and yet
The souls of some too often find themselves much lured and set
On walking underneath this shielding roof where beauty rests.
Where does this pathway lead? No sage would know, for not a soul
Who made his way that far has yet returned to speak of it.
Man’s told of this enchanted trail in deepest dreams divinely lit,
When doubts are fooled and leery eyes, in passing, grasp its role.
Though hidden and remote, this solitary road allures
The restless fancy bound to earth by pale reality,
And gives man’s aimless days their restful, fresh finality
When blissful poesy the gloom of droning life obscures.
I knew two youths who strayed from home and found this path one night.
Bemused by its unearthly call, they veered and probed away;
Alas, they reached the very end, and there they longed to stay.
Among the stars, their love now dwells in bright, eternal light.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
We blossom today,modern youth we are
But destination unknown we walk
Ever thougth of tomorrow,dear youths
Oh,youths of modern day?
together we work,together we stand
Can two walk together,unless they agree?
Don't be fooled by the of the world
Your intergrity in the lord is emminet
Don't the sheep of the world
But sheep of the lord
Dwel in him,oh,youths of modern day
Serve you the master in your youth
For time comes,when no one can work
Dwell in him,oh youths,dwell in him.
A Forest Dance
————————————————
for a dance around the tree
four youths link hands
circling
giggling into a cathartic
collapse
joyous over burrowed-under
bridges above the ground
of the nutrient-searching
long mossy roots
arms out
and then
they ran off
the tree left sensing
her ancient coarse bark
crusted coat creaking
as the winds hit
and knowing near
the solemn hanging
swaying
of uncountable needles
of pines aloft branching
on out of the forest
byway close to infinity
—————————————-++++———————————-
(Written for Jim)
(c) sally young Eslinger 12/18/21
Thanks be to God