Long Siphoned Poems
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Through silk tresses glistening in ember,
I saw you for the first time in December.
Oh sparks could ignite in freezing snow,
a rhythm born in silent hearts I'd know.
Your cherry-dipped voice dwelling upon
my painted canvas on a scarlet dawn.
Ethereal touch that drenches my longing soul,
inhaling your musk diffusing us into a whole.
Darling, I'd waited for you all these years,
your tickling glances dissolved my fears.
You breathe silver crescents on newborn pearls,
lulling me in blankets of tranquil starry curls.
I've kissed your silhouette in strumming breeze,
yet my harp strings love for your heart to please.
My safe heaven in a moist galaxy of sand dunes,
a time for us, our heartbeats fuse to distant tunes.
You've brushed my halo with siphoned showers
and I believe love was destined to be ours.
In this world and an afterlife I do believe,
we'll find each other for December to retrieve.
Tonight I melt in your arms to weave a song,
I've waited for my love, hasn't it been long?
August 17, 2020
A Time For Us Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Burl
The hints of a halting journey lurked,
The withering tree was dying within...
Every passing breeze had its spirits siphoned
Stood massive with its monarchal gait,
For decades it served the passers-by
But who could escape the clutches of fate??
When hope to survive slowly dimmed
It thought of that single bud yet to bloom
Wilting at the roots, its grip had failed
That last single unopened bud soft and blue
So curious to bloom and witness the world...
A long life's journey yet to tread, in store
A melancholy stirred this gigantic tree
Intuition had made its call, it was sure to die
Dripping dew failed to mask its tears n' let all to see
Our life 's like this withered tree, birth n' death inevitable
The buds are symbols of unrealised dreams,
wanting to nurture and act upon to make them possible
Just like this tree's struggle to save the bud till it rolls as corpse
We need to nurture our dreams like this tree n' pearl - oyster
Bud into flower n' pearls as they mature ,serve several purpose
Similarly our dreams be filled with causes useful n' better!
The government and its people stay on antagonistic sides
but what stimulates the rulers’ infidelity to patriotism
can easily be bought by any, over the counter.
They are desperately in need
of sailors to guide through the storm
yet for some reasons,
nurture a belief of so called anointed but empty vessels.
Structural human developments
siphoned by leadership’s exhaust pipes,
desecrating humanity’s sanctuary
for corruption to sell in wholesale.
The public treasury flows down
non-stop even bypassing its bladder,
as materialism and the quest for good life
break all of conscience’s administrative protocols.
Survival instincts undergo inflation
for civilization to suffer a recession
to this end, unity’s objections are overruled
by Nepotism and favouritism.
Social growth is blocked
and always in need of foreign catheter.
A direct current links poverty to the mindset and way of life,
giving a clear evidence of an economy
in desperate need of reconstructive surgery.
INFERNO
As I watched from far away,
Under the sun sending down its rays,
Not willing to stare any longer,
And about to find my way out,
I noticed the earth trembling,
Followed by a cacophony,
Temperature rose in a flash,
Behold it was a volcano,
Red molten flowing down from its cone,
Arable down destroyed,
The reddish molten was like blood,
Blood of Slavery.
When will hearts of men be one?
Being different from none,
Humans being callous to another,
For exploitation of others,
Like a lion that turneth not away from its prey.
Captured with alluring promises,
With goodies and pleasantries,
Men became victims of circumstances,
Minds anticipated life with good fortunes and feature,
But least they never knew,
That their thoughts were all fiction.
Disastrous like a sirroco,
Blew the winds of the deserts,
Their human nature became weary,
Without any proper attention given,
Covering many miles,
Of which some lost their lives.
Seeing the anguish of men,
I rhapsodised about the fate of lives,
That were experiencing onslaught,
My heart was deeply exasperated,
Seeing how lives were siphoned like liquid,
The famished ones died away,
And the sands of the desert buried their bodies.
On the Mediterranean they voyaged,
Endangering lives of youthful age,
They were like unpreserved cabbage,
Experiencing the sporadic fierce tempest,
The extreme cold nights,
Accompanied with empty stomach,
Leading their skin to take the hue of an oak,
In juxtaposition with a mahogany.
Nostalgic feelings came,
The care and love shown to them at home,
Created in their hearts a hole, Which can only be filled by hope, Their condition was like perdition.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI GENTLE
In the winter of my years, stands my barren tree
Its leaves stripped by autumnal winds
Against hope, it had one life left to give
I blew a warm breath into a lone branch
Hoping against hope, I stood transfixed
As spring approached, I beheld a bud
I cupped it in my hands frozen in wonder
I watched its growth in amazement
The spring sun came, and I saw it change
I began to miss the bud growing to a calyx
It’s pinkness unfurled with relentlessness
Observe, readers, a dress wrapped inside a bud
I coveted this awakened bud blossoming
I shielded it against summer's onslaught
But, toiling bees siphoned its very nectar
Its chiffon gown blown off by the solstice
I held on to my once bud defrocked
Miracles abound in nature if you have time
Even now, I hold on to that childlike bud
Knowing it will grow past adolescence
Still holding tight, I saw its fruit maturing
Week by week it no longer needs my hands
A fruit was being born minute by seconds
It ripened on the fragile twig despite hands
I remembered when it was a babe in my palms
Now, it grows fat and juicy tempting to fall
I learned to let go giving to gravity
It was never mine and never still
It grows larger than my hand will hold
That peach is growing hairs without restraint
Its stem strains against that barren tree
It will fall off the tree and grow legs
It will run off to college leaving me in debt
It will find a girlfriend and make seedlings
My little seed must tell hands to let go
My barrenness will then be my reward
The tree and I will be left alone
At times the peach will text or call
I will wonder if that fruit is all right
I hope the endeared pit will find fertile soil
I hope my Persian plum will come and visit
Me and my barren tree are exhausted
My winter has no more spring left in me
Knowing a peach was born is enough
Hope will sprout far from this barren tree
With blossoms bursting like candy stars
Today, a workshop for the poet.
Write about a cup.
Standing empty,
Purpose unfulfilled.
Imagination startled as
I smash the cup inside my head.
A million shards of broken pottery
Lying on the floor.
Broken poems and promises
Lying on the floor.
Shards thrown out of context
As are we.
Broken souls
From out a shattered God.
Each shard, a refugee.
You and me.
Metaphors attached to all
The brokenness we own.
Cups of purpose
Seeking our fulfillment.
Joined to make a whole
Of all we hold;
Become a cup
Our truth to then unfold.
What began as empty, filled
With our life’s portion,
Sharing, sipping, spilling
All along the way.
Losing contents
We may label dear
Until the final tipping
Of a cup left upside down.
What words escape our pens
That are not truth.
Whose content change
The soul from which we bleed
Whether subject cup or love,
Or other siphoned dalliance,
At our finish will complete
A lifetime’s cupping need.
In the folds of night, as a wave, you came
Charioted in a filmy dream
All night you were with me
In love’s uncharted land, we roamed
You sang to me sweet rhymes of love
Echoing the lore of romantic lovers
Your voice choked and moist with passion
Overwhelming me with an ecstasy so rare
You fondled me with infinite tenderness
Opening in me all inlets of pleasure
Our hearts with divine furore filled
And we knew love’s sweet benediction
In the seclusion of that silvery night
Looking into the corners of your love lit eyes
I saw an ocean of rising and receding tides
And took a dip in the whirlpool of love
All night I inhaled your scent
Knew the warmth of your breath
Siphoned the sweetness of your lips
Alas! With dawn, you faded away like dew
Where is the anger! The rage! And the courage, I expected to see?
Why is everyone so complacent?
Evangelical Christians have endorsed a cheat, a liar, a bigot, and a misogynist
because he's pro-life, God will forgive the rest; hallelujah!
Democracy used to cannibalize democracy; please pass the head of state!
A cult has formed, like the Nazi Youth, who ogled Hitler with worshiping eyes.
Those in charge have stooped so low; that they bow down to this wannabee Fuhrer
with their brown noses prominently showing above their pasted-on smiles!
If you're part of this cult, reason can't save you! You'll die for this trickster!
Chanting NO COLLUSION, NO COLLUSION! Though you know, it isn't true.
As for the rest of you, it's time you woke up!
Wipe off those cynical grins and VOTE, like your voice matters
like your vote matters, like your freedom matters, and pray that they still do!
I'm neither a democrat nor a republican,
I can't stomach the hypocrisy of either party!
As a proud Canadian, I can only empathize with your problem,
but, I'm an impartial observer, immune to the fake news, you might say.
There's no defending this President!
But his Republican stooges, Fox news, and the evangelist elite do just that!
A con-man stole their integrity and bamboozled his way into the White House.
Now, like Russia's Putin, he wants to be king!
And he'll challenge and or change the constitution to make it so!
Where is your anger! Your rage! And your courage?
I hear some Americans praise him like he's the second coming!
And insisting his Presidency was prophesied in the pages of the bible.
In what wacky world is it even possible to venerate Donald Trump
as an instrument of God? Many are oblivious to the truth,
even when his narcissism and hyperbole are so blatantly obvious!
Once more, the human psyche's tapped and loyalty siphoned off
to advance the goals of one corrupt man.
In the words of Jesus, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do!"
May God have mercy on our souls if he wins again!
(free Verse)
Mar.24, 2018
That lonely maple tree on the mighty green hill,
still hides my secret letters and beloved quill,
Oh the jubilant friend I'd found on a summer day,
it embraced me with lush branches on heaps of hay.
My hushed fears siphoned by soothing hums of breeze,
forlorn desires weaved into stories of azure seas,
it cocooned my dreams in wisps of green infant leaves,
that sprinkle dew drops when the little robin grieves.
Ambrosial baskets of delicious mangoes that I savor,
it shaded them until you embellished a rosy red flavor,
you slept in my arms as I heard a nervous cuckoo sing,
the maple branches swayed in glee, to love they cling.
Our fingers draped in icy whispers under magenta sky,
at twilight we shivered in the fervent wind to fly,
shooting stars adorned maple leaves on dark nights,
our recluse in golden sequins of blinking silver lights.
It still melts my summer stories on yellowed pages,
leaves marked with your name haven't faded since ages,
tonight I'll dance to rhapsodies of that fiery healing love,
peeping from crevices of leaves to your galaxies above.
June 23, 2020
Summer Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
~Winner: 1st Place
To dream or not to dream this query I will leave unanswered
for just as the winds cannot stop blowing and the flowers
cannot stop growing,
I too cannot wave my fantasies goodbye.
I will not leave behind
my illusions, nor my castle in the sky
I am a poet with so much golden yarn,
and miles and miles of forever tales,
at the tip of my golden quill.
My spindle never rests.
To dream or not to dream this is a query
I siphoned for you.
What will you weave for me today?
What will your wave of fantasy, enshroud?
I can't wait to read you, my lovely poets,
make me proud !!!!