Dark forces
conscript
the last moonbeam
As day turns
to night
in the sky
And silence
takes over
the valley
That harbor’s
a final
goodbye
Where light
used to play
in the meadow
Shadows
forbode
laying claim
To what
used to live
in your memory
That dies
in this darkened
— refrain
(The New Room: June, 2026)
The pages written in my book
Are pages made of second looks
They tell the days of happy sad
And sometimes sprinkle crazy mad
The game is played and often lost
By those who fail to count the cost
The dreams I have are often false
And failed the chances come across
The search for love bewilders me
And often leads to poverty
Incredible insanity, indubious integrity
It always makes a fool of me is what I see
It’s incomplete she makes of me
She always makes a dunce of me
Indiscreet to her degree
Insatiable this thing I see
We learn the truth at seventeen
That love is often just a dream
A hindrance and waste of time
The author of an awful crime
Laying claim to those we name
Becomes a hopeless silly game
Knights would strive and pawns would fall
The Queen's last move would end it all
To sing a song a serenade
Write the poetry feelings play
Hold the pillow while I lay
Pretending solace while I crave
The end begins to end it all
The days we spend in love must fall
And nights to come with melodies
Of love and what it makes of me
(To be sung to the song, "Seventeen's" music)
The trappings of
a Poet …
or being a Poet
They’re each something
different
remote and distinct
The tweed jacket
wood paneled
image deceiver
Lays claim to what
only
—enlightenment inks
(Dreamsleep: January, 2024)
Someone has fenced in a portion of the meadow
Laying claim to what Mother Nature has proscribed,
Some folks bring displeasure with absurd bravado.
Is he suggesting that part of the meadow, so described,
Is forbidden for enjoyment by nature lovers like me?
Seems like this certain neighbor has over-imbibed!
Land ownership is only temporary, while nature is free
Here to be enjoyed and treasured by man and beast
Fences are fine, I suppose, saying this belongs to me,
But not to shut out natural areas, to say the least
With no other purpose in mind than to thwart pleasure,
And to deny us enjoyment of nature’s bountiful feast.
Our neighbor needs productive tasks to do in leisure,
It seems he delights in arousing everyone’s displeasure.
Written March 13, 2022
i’ve seen among the shadows
in the corner of my eye
a foreboding melancholy
ever present pure and nigh
upon forseen inception
came the beast without respect
laying claim to all emotions
pouring darkness down my neck
clouds of memories will float
inside of distraught dreams
allaying but for precious breaths
the pain of tortured screams
a prayer for those who suffer hell
from loss of man or wife
for these poor souls bear misfortunes
taxing sojourns throughout life
Soul,
"Even the mind fades with time . There’s no escaping it. One has to make the most of it (the mind) while they still have time and some youth left. What stays beautiful is the soul." LLB
Laid down with the dropping of the ball
the joyous clinks ringing in a year,
party hats, strange first kisses,
inconspicuous memory lapses,
time marching on,
in seconds it all but disappears
fresh starts, disrobing dissertations
interludes
listening to music, assessing the wind
moments meant to be held
not without meaning
sharing what we have
not what we have not
pressing your being on top my chest
laying claim to your riches
engulfing the scent
for you alone it carries my name
twinkles amid periwinkles
surrounded in a gaze
pure harmony and grace
a place
to call more than just a home
the bells of Saint Raphael are ringing
gently, my heart beats in tune, singing
flowery words quietly are filling up
the vastness of the oceans
there is no need to rush
slowly we build
fortunes fulfilling foundations
freedom to breathe
forevers to live
The Blues fills my memory,
all emptiness gone
Its Harp laying claim,
my soul to belong
Little Walter cries out
‘that same old somethin’ again
Jimmy Reed to remind us
—of the mojo within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2019)
The ocean now looks the rain in the eye
Swelling with ego and pride
Humming and Hissing flows with the tide
Wrestling the ships and the boats
And laying claim to some of our lands.
Even Adagun adorns himself like Agbara
The little puddle by the road side
The left over of the afternoon rain
Prides himself before our feet
Willing and waiting for the sky to open
For him to take of his share of what drop descends from the heaven.
The fishes now have their freedom
For years no sight of the fisherman's nets
They have grown beyond average
And have witnessed years of abundance.
Some have become sharks
Willing to swallow their underfed comrades.
(C) Ayinla Muyideen Adeleke
Last hints of light lay down
gasping in the night
reaching for a touch
a comfort loved so much
I walk on
where darkness plays her song
fearing what went wrong
too fast and way too strong
No excuses no regrets
one gives and then one gets
no others laying claim
in love there is no shame
The light lays down
and I walk on
Money, wrapping paper
of disowned creation
Destroying the gift,
—laying claim to the box
(Jamestown New York: May, 2011)
A pouting pooch whose boisterous barks
are uttered in superlatives
laying claim to unwarranted
importance
due to an overbearing pride.
Strip him of his diamond studded
collar, not to mention his badly groomed coat
reveals a Manhattan cur:
a junkyard dog
who’d sooner attack innocence
than those bent on his destruction.
Fear not people! For his bark is worse
than his bite
The Donald thrives on attention.
I am listening for the Master's call
that will signal that grest day
when the Shepherd comes from heaven
to call His flock away.
When this sinful world is ended
and temptations all are gone
I'll be on my way to heaven
laying claim to my heavenly home.
No more storm clouds, no more sorrows
only laughter, joy and love
when I leave this world behind me
bound for heaven up above.
And on that glorious morning
when Christ Jesus comes again
with ten thousand angels singing
glory to the Son of Man
I will know my journey is over
when I hear my Father say
Well done thou faithfull servant
enter your reward today.
Night Terror.
You need no introduction.
Into my slumber,
With skulking cats eyes.
Now,
You build a charnel house.
Bricks and mortor, sinister.
Laying claim to my dreams.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I suffered terribly with night terrors at such a young age.
I feel they dictated my life for quite some time.
This is one of my more personal poems.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Personification; please?
I dont know if there is currently a contest for personification poetry.
If not, I would love to see one set up.
Unfortunatly, i feel i do not have the capacity to run one myself... yet.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post, Jamie.
(P.S. I am brand new to soup, as you most likely can tell.)
Speaking of peace so loosely
It should be a curse when departed from our tongues
Our hearts are in contempt
For the vengeful warriors we've become
We praise ourselves and persecute our fathers
Laying claim to possessions not earned
Boasting loudly of our victorious race
In constant fear of our demise
We search relentlessly for an alternate answer
For the true solution which we expertly avoid
Would make us as one in true peace
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