a kite
with a severed string...
is what I am;
the wind's useful idiot,
d r i f t i n g
erratically
across the tempestuous sky,
losing all control...
make no mistake about that!
should I rise
with the morning sun
one day
and not see you
lying right next to me....
gee, I can't even imagine!
v u l g a r
just the thought of it!
you see,
you, my anchor
are the tethered string,
that gently reels me
d
o
w
n
from the evil winds that blow
in the loftiest of skies.
should I no longer have
your hand to hold,
no matter how you leave,
i'd be everything
to the gust of wind
and nothing
to myself.
i'd be however it wants me,
so please,
never do.
A string of pearls gleams in her aster eyes
she tries to veil grief away
but truth will ever stay.
__________________________
Concourse of water of a stream flows down from its peak on a mountain top, down through a thicket of greenery in a gradual fall to planes and ultimately to its destiny of ocean whence the journey first began.
Eternal silence of Nature here tells the string to calm down, wear not a self-bestowed crown feeling so proud.
___________________
O stream from tall peak,
What use feeling puffed up proud?
It all ends in bleak
One day, wrapped in Time’s dark shroud,
Cool down, why this din so loud?
___________________________
Musings | 22.05.2026 | Nature, ocean, silence, string, time, Tanka
storm outside rattling
solace in another’s hand
r u p t u r e cracking pane ~
lightning flashes pain
no cloud laughing when sky slits
shake smoothie slowly
storm shatters saucer
thicket thunder not blunder
rupture is solace ~
.
it do appear
dear
mine duke's digits may
be sum
do'n
unty'n
soon'er
too
tap
tap
tap'n twixt each mine
do
i meant
undo
,)>
Sending a consistent comfort mail
Does that mean she will cope with the nail?
And stop wondering from whence things went wrong
She always want some
Even if just a daughter and a son
Won't it be nice to sing children a song?
It became a boom
But wish it soon turns a boon
Aren't that enough to put a stop to booing?
It appears an unreal dream
After winning her bean
Will she continue without making a being?
She has a wonderful womb
That could fertilize to born
Isn't that the best way to live long?
To those that are keeping strong in faith
May God answers your spell breath
To live the change cum death
I spend my nights with galaxies,
with spirals of fire and frozen light,
mapping the curvature of space
where time itself bends and listens.
Yet when I turn my telescope inward,
toward the small universe behind the eyes,
I find the same geometry at work—
the same quiet architecture of wonder.
Neurons stretch like cosmic filaments,
dark-matter threads of living thought,
webbing the mind the way gravity
laces the heavens together.
String theory tells us the cosmos hums,
that every particle is a vibration,
a note played on an invisible string
tuned at the birth of everything.
So I imagine the brain as a starfield,
each synapse a trembling constellation,
each memory a resonance
echoing from the first light.
The universe learns itself through us—
through these brilliant cords of mind and matter,
where physics becomes thought
and starlight remembers how to dream.
now the empty room
no longer welcomes me in
but reminds of grief
it feels lonely; not waiting
for my time alone to write
once there was a fire
that I made for all of them
before they arose
then it became my solace
for my quiet time to write
can it again warm
fill with laughter and their love
not just memories
but a new family's love
maybe some progeny's home
Nigeria our beloved country
Diverse in tongue and tribe
United by a loosely held shoe string
Accentuated differences in culture
and tradition.
Nigeria united by force majuere
Divisive force than a blending force
The unity daily lies in a scale balance
Skewed to the north or to the south
By a major crisis or an act of debacle
Nigerians and Nigeria seating on shoe
string.
(Written 17th March, 2017)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cinnamon-dusted,
dough remembers Mother's hands~
warm as her embrace.
Pressed between childhood tales,
each sweet cookie sings of home.
Sorgham swirls slow,
dark as wintertime at six.
the oven hums low~
patient, like my grandmother
caroling hymns in her sleep.
Cookies crowd the rack
still soft at the edges where
time hasn’t touched them.
Bite by bite the year unwinds~
memories blend into space.
Teeny
Weeny
~Contest: 1430
Sponsor: Brian Strand
There is a black string between you and me.
Every time you pluck, its a trigger for me.
Ever time I pluck, its a trauma for me.
Who decided to give this string its color?
Was it you or was it me or was it us?
Should either of us choose to dye this string.
Will it start to unravel?
Will it start to rot?
Will it start to stiffen?
Will it tighten into a knot?
Will it braid itself into a rope?
And when the Stranger trips on this rope.
Will they cut the hazard?
Will they bury it straight in the ground?
Will they burn it ashes to ashes?
It looks like a yo-yo
so it should spin round and round
going every which way
when I throw it down
it feels like a yo-yo
so it should whirl to beat the band
it's right here at my fingertips
but it's out of hand
I call him Duncan
and want to see him loop the loop
go round the world walk the dog
rock the baby and do the sleeper too
but he can push a person
past the point of no return
and what will I do then
when will I ever learn
why my yo-yo won't go yo
when I let it go
it drops to the bitter end of the string
but won't come back
or do anything
no it's a bust I just don't know
why my yo-yo won't go yo
Child without a care in the world
Ponytail held by red ribbon
Summer breeze toys with kite on string
AP: 1st place 2026, 3rd place 2026, 3rd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2026
You are the fire that burns pain to ash,
The first raindrop that touches the ground.
A dawn that breaks after a sleepless night,
A whisper of hope where peace is found.
You are the spark that ignites after dark,
The last fragment of my shattered soul.
A timeless flame that nothing restrain,
A shining diamond while I’m still the coal.
You are the breeze that carries the dream,
The first tide of the overflowed river.
A lighting star between two heartbeats,
A fading memory, carrying a secret shiver.
You are the flower that blooms in stone,
The last sun of my long waited dusk.
A ray of hope tearing through the sky,
A glimmer behind the twilight’s husk.
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