first, the sky before my eyes unfurls
a vast, boundless silver canopy,
spreading further along the line of sight,
covering the fields beneath my feet,
and the forested hills that lie beyond.
the land, which had been
as still as a sleeping creature,
is the first to wake, slowly shaking off
the last lingering drowsiness
that accumulated through the night.
right after, amber sunlight breaks through
the clouds, spilling into the expanses of woods,
settling on the calm lake surface,
and spreading over the fields
and grain plots in the mountain hollow.
a pair of hands holds a farm tool steadily,
turning over clods of dark, fertile soil from the field;
every clod brim with the nutrients
that can grow strong, thriving crops.
when sowing seeds, everyone carries...
a steady, earnest wish, gently
tucking the seeds wrapped in hope
into the freshly turned soil.
in the long stretch of days that follow,
someone tends to this field at all times,
devoting wholehearted care to
every single seedling, putting in
full effort working in the fields each day,
watching over the crops’ roots
as they dig into the ear.
The anticipated event has come and gone.
You will miss so much of that which you longed.
Both your desire and your submissive attitude
Have been presented to God in prayer.
However, your desire was not granted.
You could have fainted, but you did not.
You stayed home and deep in your heart,
You felt all alone, but you moved on.
When we learn to move on,
And forget about what went wrong,
We 'll feel less alone,
And we'll grow strong.
Grow strong but remember your roots,
explore the world yet seek what is still.
Moment to moment find what suits.
When we let go and tumble downhill,
those hard rolls ignite that inner core.
Nurturing soil brings a spiritual refill.
With just one taste left wanting more,
mastering rules bosses stacks wins.
Don’t aim simply to even the score.
Fly a little bit higher lifted by flat-spins,
embrace the past as you shed old skins.
I opened the old drawer, stories long ago hidden
beneath the dust, beyond the debris
A notebook full of eraser marks and hope
an unfinished page still waiting for me
what comes next, I thought as I glanced
poems written that now seem ancient to read
my fears, my wishes, my forgotten dreams
words that once danced with joy and ease
now quietly sitting in the shadow of time
some spoke of plans that don't fit who I am
some told stories of struggles and pain
others were celebrations somehow forgotten
I flipped through the pages
Poems unfinished, Ink slowly fading
A thought halfway started, but never complete
I grabbed my new pen with fire in my heart
When I started to write the glimmer in my eyes once dim
started to grow strong, stronger than it's ever been
Although unfinished verses may always remain
the pen and the paper are calling my name
A semicolon is used when a sentence could have ended.
I could have broken but I bended.
So take this broken heart
See it beat again.
I didn´t let my sentence end
So don´t let your sentence end
Stop trying to end it because instead of a full stop,
try a semicolon instead.
I Hope you remember that even in ember
when a flame dies in cold december
that it can still grow strong
and that a story shouldn´t be too short
And there is never a too long.
I am sorry for all the pain.
But go trhough hell and own the place.
Remember death is not a race.
So keep going.
Keep writing.
Use a semicolon.
Please keep writing;keep fighting;
No full stop just a semicolon
Streaming,
Springing into new things,
What's this season going to bring,
Singing out reasons for being,
Seeing stars gleaming,
Streaming consciousness,
Obnoxious patterns intervene,
While we get between ourselves,
Delving into a universe of secrets,
I can't wait to see what you get,
Set your sights on the sun,
You're the one who brings change,
The world rearranges around you,
True to your intention,
This dimension of existence,
Dances with your every move,
Groove within the flow,
Don't be afraid to let go,
Thats how you grow strong,
Longer days are up ahead,
Instead of watching them go by,
Try reaching for the sky,
Pry open your heart,
Start to sing of good things,
Spring brings beginnings,
And everything you need,
To feed the dreams,
Already in life's stream.
It was likely lichen's provided the fuel
Evolutionarily leading to mortal and mule
They worked with the fungus that brung us to fore
Elevating our thought to what we thought was more
Than what had preceded, receded and left
We then reseeding, believing the best
It was what our creation and station now made
Us to invent cultivation and blade
Use in one allows us to grow strong and tall
The other decides what will stand, or will fall
It's best in the harvest when feeding us all
The test is the anger that comes with the Fall
Let me fly away
to the distant pasture
where worlds meet.
I see a rainbow
resting along the cliff.
Let me fly away
to places of destiny.
Let me go
where I remain myself.
I long to search my soul.
My life has changed so much
it no longer feels like mine.
Time , another creator,
has reshaped me.
I feel
all my wings are cut.
I do not want to be here.
I want to fly away.
But my chick
has not yet learned to fly.
How do I leave him?
He will be alone without me,
and I
will be alone without him.
So let me fold my broken wings
and remain.
But when his wings grow strong,
when he rises into his own sky,
perhaps I will seek a quiet hermitage
somewhere
with my broken wings.
Germinating seed in the desert shoots
Wind dispersed the grain as oasis fruit,
And sap nourishes the root.
Water makes a taproot grow strong,
Splits the bud, breaks the husk all along
Shoots stem and petals to where they belong.
The seed sprouts above
With a blooming love
Shining through the grove.
The root deepens,
The grain steepens,
Raindrops weaken
The bright petals
And the seed endures and settles.
Poems Forever
Through rhymes and rhythms
Hand writing with true emotions
A silent messenger
Language arts are written fluent
A post card sent in the wind
With stanza, free verse
We are all walks of life
Poems are therapeutic in the open sky
This is who we are
Silent writers
Living in complete solitude
Always at work
Don’t want to be bothered
Trees grow strong
Each short story has heart
Just be you and no one else
No weight carried by a fountain pen
With meaningful stories unfold
Each poem has purpose
Literature written with black ink surrenders on blank paper
1830-1886
Guess Who
In a world that demands perfection's might,
We hide behind a painted light,
Smiling lips and twinkling eyes,
Conceal the storms that rage inside.
Anxiety grips us like a vice so tight,
Depression tangles our thoughts in endless night,
Yet we carry on, day after day,
And find a way to face the fray.
Wearing a mask, pretending we're fine,
Hiding the pain that we can't define,
But deep inside, a voice does cry,
Let me be me, and let my true self fly.
Within the chambers of our mind,
Shadows loom, a troubled find,
Anxiety and fears entwine,
Depression whispers, (You're not fine.)
In solitude, these shadows grow strong,
Feeding on doubts that linger long,
But let's remember, we're not alone,
Mental health matters, it's time to make it known.
Reach out for support, lend a hand,
Together, let's break this heavy stand,
You're not alone, dear heart, it's true,
Seek help when your soul's flame is through.
Urhobo, Oma r’ode
(Urhobo, child of the land)
Oghene r’ode vwe mu’gho
(God of the land, bless us)
Erhi r’ode no vwe r’ode
(The spirit of the land walks with the land)
Avo r’ode r’oro vwo
(Ancestors of the land, speak)
Oma r’ode vwo kpe kpe
(Children of the land, gather in peace)
Ejo r’ode vwo godo godo
(Wisdom of the land flows like a river)
Okpako r’ode vwo r’ume
(Elders of the land, teach us)
Ivie r’ode vwo je se
(Royalty of the land, shine on us)
Ughere r’ode vwo se vwo
(The strength of the land makes us whole)
Avo r’ode no r’ume kpo
(Ancestors of the land guide our steps)
Oma r’ode vwo j’oma
(Children of the land grow strong)
Eru vwo, kpe vwo, godo vwo
(Fear not, stand firm, walk boldly)
Akpo r’ode no r’ume
(The world of the land surrounds us)
Ogono r’ode no r’ume
(The beauty of the land surrounds us)
Orhoro vwo, vwo, vwo
(Life continues, continues, continues)
Oma r’ode vwo ghere
(Children of the land rejoice)
Urhobo vwo, vwo, vwo!
(Urhobo live, live, live!)
Let the flowers grow around Queen Anne’s lace,
As vanilla clouds simulate snowflake motifs.
This Wintering in Spring, amidst green leaves.
A red velvet garden of thorns and grace.
Let the flowers grow, strong; popped-button-proud;
Bright friends of sun’s bolster - deep ruby lips;
Rainshower-couture, like painted nail tips.
Deep, bountiful presence - silent, but loud.
Let the flowers grow, suddenly chosen
To be gathered in a wedding bouquet;
Or one by one, fragrant stems kissed on broadway.
Still, most remain, in season, unbroken.
Baby we're still young
Vibrant and promising
I promise you
Together we can grow strong
Before we get old
We can correct our wrongs
So let the bond be strong, holding onto each no matter the circumstances.
Let's stay locked in
Together we'll build
Our own empire
I am the king and you are the queen
Ruling our kingdom without any opposition.
Baby I want to invest
My all in you
My time, money and more
Never want to see you stressing
Steadily needing your permission to act
I just need your submission
I pledge my loyalty to you, even though I'm royal.
The sun once set on distant lands,
Where empires carved the world with hands,
Of steel and smoke and hollow pride,
But now those shadows start to hide.
The West, in golden robes once dressed,
Now stumbles toward its final rest,
Its towers tall, its markets vast,
Are echoes of a fading past.
Beneath the heat of rising suns,
The Global South now walks as one,
From deserts dry and jungles deep,
A promise wakes from ancient sleep.
The rivers sing their sacred song,
The mountains rise, the weak grow strong,
From ashes born, the phoenix flies,
With fire burning in their eyes.
But heed this tale of sorrow’s breath:
The dying West will taste of death—
Not swift or silent, but a cry,
A wail beneath the blood-red sky.
The sorrow of a world undone,
Where once the eagle kissed the sun,
Will echo in the wind’s lament,
A bitter, bruising testament.
Fear not the night, for dawn is near,
Though shadows fall and fall severe,
From pain will rise a world anew,
Where justice breathes and life is true.
O sons and daughters of the earth,
Prepare to witness death and birth,
The old will crumble, bow, and cease,
To birth a world of hope and peace.
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