Long Leave no stone unturned Poems
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Founder's day
>A wind of gratitude is waving
>River of love is dancing, exhibiting wonderful styles whiles meandering
>Cloud of commemoration is drifting.
>All to say ‘’ayeekooo’’
>’’Osagyefo y3 ma W'amo’’..
>The throne is set, come and receive a panegyric
>You are a relic in our memories
>Posterity will always judge in your favor
>A man of wisdom and valor.
>You fought covertly or overtly for then progeny's emancipation
>That fight had made us a proud generation.
>Your were the torch of your mother,
>Your contemporaries can't gainsay.
>Your foresight laid the foundation for your mother's future.
> You started building the walls that projected your magical plan's picture.
>Your confidence was willing to leave no stone unturned
>Alas, nature sent you to the urn.
>Great dreams stuck in the skull
>If you can hear me, speak through a necromancer.
>We have missed the great voice of an orator.
>Even if your phonetics can’t do, let us feel through your kinesics
>We will love you until our hearts are no more
>Your mother will remember your sacrifice until she closes her memory's door.
>You indeed are a founder.
>We salute your charisma.
>Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, ‘’mo ne adwuma’’
>’’S3 3nn3 y3rehyir3n s3 nsroma’’
>’’3y3 wo mm)denb) ntiaaa.’’
>We respect today.
>Because it is your day.
>Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah
>’’Mo mo mo’’
>We salute.
A wind of gratitude is waving
River of love is dancing, exhibiting wonderful styles whiles meandering
Cloud of commemoration is drifting.
All to say ‘’ayeekooo’’’’Osagyefo y3 ma W'amo’’..
The throne is set, come and receive a panegyric
You are a relic in our memories
Posterity will always judge in your favor
A man of wisdom and valor.
You fought covertly or overtly for then progeny's emancipation
That fight had made us a proud generation.
Your were the torch of your mother,
Your contemporaries can't gainsay.
Your foresight laid the foundation for your mother's future.
You started building the walls that projected your magical plan's picture.
Your confidence was willing to leave no stone unturned
Alas, nature sent you to the urn.
Great dreams stuck in the skull
If you can hear me, speak through a necromancer.
We have missed the great voice of an orator.
Even if your phonetics can’t do, let us feel through your kinesics
We will love you until our hearts are no more
Your mother will remember your sacrifice until she closes her memory's door.
You indeed are a founder.
We salute your charisma.
Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, ‘’mo ne adwuma’’
’’S3 3nn3 y3rehyir3n s3 nsroma’’
’’3y3 wo mm)denb) ntiaaa.’’
We respect today.
Because it is your day.
Osagyefo Dr Kwame Nkrumah
’Mo mo mo’’
We salute.
Tongue Tied in Clichés: A Blessing in Disguise
A blessing in disguise,
a double-edged sword—
a far cry from peace,
yet all in all,
at the drop of a hat
we reach for a ballpark figure,
beat around the bush,
break new ground,
burn the midnight oil.
By the book we cut to the chase,
play devil’s advocate,
fill the void with food for thought,
start from scratch,
then get cold feet.
Give the green light,
go down in flames,
hit the nail on the head,
find ourselves in over our head,
jump on the bandwagon,
keep something at bay,
leave no stone unturned.
Out of our depth,
past the point of no return,
we read between the lines,
take it with a grain of salt,
see only the tip of the iceberg—
until at last we throw in the towel.
‘OH POETIC force, show us, tell us take us to heights unknown,
And leave no stone unturned' ‘ QUOTE BY POET
This April month with destination moon or bust, is celestial,
Four Moon bound people took off in a rocket,
Planet Earth wishing them a successful,
Exciting space trip, praying no harm touch them,
Only poetic love should prevail,
And courage and hope with poetic ink be injected
Into this space mission , every poet’s talent thus affected,
History in the making,
Poets creating poems that bring together
Words and words become breathtaking thoughts,
That bring about poetic rhymes
Bless and hold their tether hard and fast,
throughout eternal and turbulent times,
Something different happened
This afternoon, rather strange
For I saw no bird, yet A dove’s feather dropped
And then floated out of range,
Was it showing us that eternity is space,
Could it become a global race
To make Moon or Mars,
Habitable, among the stars.
Greed has moved into space,
Wanting to change its face,
But poetry will always be on greed’s tail,
With every mouth watering detail.
Our four brave astronauts
Got back this early morn, with a big splash,
And unbeknown to them surely, a reporters flash!
Who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way"?Was it a snitch that the police trusted? We must,and it is a "Duty" of "Justice" to leave no stone unturned!Who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way"? The Police on that day caused real "Harm",and that is a real true fact,and that is true and perfectly exact!That was a terrible act! We really want to know who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way"of "The Police"? Who would do that? We who care must leave no stone unturned!"Justice is not always exact,but "Justice does ,and can see the real facts! Who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way"of "The Police"?Who would put their mother,father,sister,brother,grand daddy,grand mother,girl friend,boy friend in "Harms Way"? We who care must not leave any stone unturned.The Lord God Almighty sits on the Throne,and never leaves any stone unturned for any as we all will face him on the day of judgement for the good and the evil that we have done in this life. God leaves no stone unturned! We really want to know who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way" of "The Police"on that terrible day for "Democracy"and The U.S.A.and for Liberty and Justice for us all? "The Police"came and they did cause ""Unjustifiable Harm"!"Justice must act to "Justify" itself or "Justice makes itself unjust"!Once all the stones have been turned then "Justice can be served to all of those who unjustly acted,and to those who put Breonna Taylor in "Harms Way"!Do they still give "The Electric Chair" in "The Great State of Kentucky"for "Unjustifiable Homocide"?Justice is always tendered with mercy in order for Justice to be Just"Motion To Indite by "The Grand Jury of "The Police and "The Boyfriend".Police=Self Defense with unjustifiable Homocide "Boyfriend=The first shot from a gun fired out of "fear". When the boyfriend fired the first shot he enabled "reckless endangerment and unjustifiable homocide .Rectless indangerment is "Being put in "Harms Way"!!!! Who really fired the first shot? Jistice can be served by finding out who fired the first shot to cause "Harms Way" to come into existance!!!Unjustifiable Homocide requires "Justice" to "ACT" ,no matter who fired the first shot so that "Justice Itself" can "Crush,Plow Over,and "Pulverize "Evil Flesh,Evil Spirits,Evil Minds,Evil Bodies,and Evil Souls.Will "The Grand Jury" "Act" to see all of "The Facts"? The "Motion is in Place"!!!!
The sound hits as ton of bricks
And see you flying off the ledge
The state of awe, emotions’ mix
It puts the soul on the edge
As if you found what you missed
Your whole life, in vain hunt
High notes foggy clear mist
While you get hit with something blunt
To grow wings on cloud nine
When life-long yearning satisfied
Those jolting voices are divine
Be drunk and happy and bug-eyed
Them words, they rip, caress and sting
They don’t leave no stone unturned
The fierce vibes of bowed strings
Leave one excited and upturned
Your mind cleansed, you are complete
Must listen times, what a song!
This tune is ever-so-sweet
Until the next one comes along
May 1, 2024
Dawn breaks…
over the horizon in a thin, frail line
my large snout presses downward
upon the ragged earth
I am on the hunt
absorbed in my task
scanning and searching
for that elusive scent
that is in my wake.
Like a great detective
I leave no stone unturned
I am proud of my prodigious nose
finely tuned, precise as a compass
I can detect the rarest of scents
I probe to follow that unique smell
to find what is lost...
it is the zenith of my existence.
What, ho! Now, the scent!
My body trembles with the thrill of discovery!
Onward, I go, with eager anticipation
I will not stop until I reach my destination.
Alas, my determination pays off
my master sees the end in sight...
I do not understand his sudden sadness
how he draws back
at the scene set before him.
As I nuzzle close to my master
his salty tears drench my face
my doleful eyes seem to comfort him
as we huddle together
underneath the dry, hot sun.
Hell is empty because all the devils are here on earth,
and he's happy because we never asked enough,
never saw enough, never heard enough.
Couldn't decide if he or his people were worse,
and it worked for him in the end it ing worked.
Was it the night the eagles fell to the dirt?
Nations falling apart, leave no stone unturned.
With the hundred thousand files the citizens searched,
with black long lines he rose from the dead,
others saying the things he left unsaid-
like the hundred thousand apologies,
and hundred thousand wasn't me[s]
with millions of tear filled eyes,
and billions of brainwashed minds.
While we never seek justice,
and one day this story dies,
until your children don't return from school,
until you realize your father is cruel.
Your voice will gain a voice,
Your steps will make a path,
make better political choice
and their crimes will burn to ash.
But they never will and long live the horror,
faced by the mute children in the corner,
their eyes blood red from the sadistic torture.
However focusing on what truly matters
while their tears fall and catch on fire ,
No Wait, we are all in this together ,
fighting battles for each other forever,
except you were never there in the mansion,
committing the evil sin of having hope and passion.
Oh God help us if you still have faith,
reverse and remove the root of our mistakes,
like giving us the idea of happiness and morality,
take it away the world or the tragedy.
For i don't want it if some get all,
and i don't wanna see my people fall,
and i don't want it at the cost of war,
and i don't want to see pictures of children on the floor,
and i don't know what else to ignore,
and i don't know who to trust anymore,
but when these demons reach the hell's door,
God will slam it and lock it down before,
escaping into a new world away from them,
probably because he has children better than humans to protect.
The clock in the Cabinet room struck midnight, then fear.
Each tick was a boot heel approaching the ear.
The map was a scar, turning red with the tide,
Where the promise of safety had nowhere to hide.
?A grey wind was blowing from a continent lost,
And the price of defiance was more than the cost
Of the gold in the vault or the ships on the sea,
But the spirit itself, and the will to be free.
?Bleakness approached, a cold, heavy rain,
It dampened the resolve, it clouded the brain.
They spoke of détente, of peace that could be,
A whisper of surrender across the dark tea.
The weight of the world, a stone in one's hand,
The choice of one man for a beleaguered land.
The generals murmured of odds too severe,
The end of an empire drawing too near.
?But a roar was awakened beneath the dull dread,
Not a bullet, but words the old lion had bred.
No smooth, subtle logic, no clever defense,
But a will unyielding, a terrible sense
Of the final last stand, and the duty defined,
To leave no stone unturned, no honor behind.
?What saves you is the memory of who you must be.
The grit in the mouth of the common decree.
The fisherman, the factory hand, and the clerk,
Refusing to bow in the perilous dark.
?The challenge was faced by that voice, rough and deep,
That told the tired nation it never could sleep.
And the island stood firm, not on metal or might,
But the strength of a spirit that welcomed the fight
They speak in flames that do not burn,
A furnace of phrases, polished and loud.
“My government will leave no stone unturned
Until the perpetrators are arrested
And made to face the full wrath of the law.”
Sirens of promise wail through the air,
Yet the ashes remain exactly as found.
Words roar from official handles,
Broadcast in waves across waiting ears
Through every medium
Threats dressed in the uniforms of law.
“Full weight,” they say, with borrowed thunder,
But justice sleeps behind a bolted door.
Each dawn counts bodies like broken clocks,
Lives shattered between headlines and dust.
Homes reduced to nameless rubble,
While speeches rise:
“I have given marching orders to the security chiefs
To ensure these criminals are hunted down
And face the full wrath of the law”
Faithful in tone, yet barren in truth.
The killers walk with familiar shadows,
Their footprints unafraid of the light.
No cuffs clasp their wrists,
No courts summon their names into the night.
Words parade proudly across the screen;
Action limps, wounded and late.
Declarations pile like fragile sandbags,
Still blood seeps under the gate.
O cold fire! You glow without heat,
You threaten without a strike.
You roar for cameras and crowds,
Then whisper when justice must bite.
How long shall we be governed by echoes,
By vows that die at the microphone?
A nation cannot be warmed by slogans,
Nor secured by a voice alone.
Let silence fall on empty threats,
Or let deeds finally speak.
For fire that cannot save a life
Is colder than the weak.