I was young, bright full of promise, full of light.
High school passed in a blur,
a victory too soon, too fast.
They cheered, they clapped,
Mom wept with pride,
but I barely had time to feel it.
Then the world changed.
Tertiary welcomed me,
but fate had other plans.
A silent storm stole my path,
cutting dreams before they could bloom.
I searched, I fought, I worked,
but each day felt the same.
The hours passed, yet I remained stuck.
Now, I drift through life,
a ghost in my own skin.
The child who once raced ahead,
now stumbles through the past.
And all I have are words not answers, not peace,
just echoes of a question that whispers through the silence:
Where did I go wrong?
In tertiary times, when two continents adrift
Titanically collided to tectonically uplift
The gasping ocean floor
Resurrected up once more
Left the water for the land;
Five miles high it made its stand.
And to these youthful mountains (that is as mountains go)
The monsoon clouds paid homage as they gathered far below
They strongly spouted fury and made the foothills wet
But the scornful Himalayas dried the plateau of Tibet
And then the disbelievers from the atheistic West
Where time is not a circle and there is no Ever-rest
Defiled up the silent crags
At the peak they planted flags
You, Himalaya, tried to hide those flags with snow
But...
We know.
Bruno enrolls in the tertiary
For a full program in Fishery.
Dad had judged his first course treachery
Or Bruno risking self trickery...
In their lusty town much revelry,
In which fish faces not rivalry:
Fish more than meat touched by cutlery,
Sometimes costing more than Jewelry!
So, Bruno vows "In the tertiary
It'll be none other than Fishery.
Thrice, Fishers charged at by cavalry,
Not by the knights of sworn chivalry;
Rather by The Dead to ribaldry:
The fish-starved in Haberdashery.
The road is thick
You can't move through, that quick
Sometimes making you feel sick
Or you were cursed maybe think
Indeed, life is full of ink
Today I stand here before you
From tiredness I can say, phew!
I have achived something new
Graduation over me who knew?
Something I wished as I grew
I have to smile for myself
As hard work brought success on my shelf
Building and civil engineering see yourself
For you I come my dream from twelve
I am happy for myself
I have sailed from primary with a D grade
Thought I will loss it but prayed
Junior school made some of the upgrade
A strong C grade really paid
Woke from my resting shade
Came my senior with 35 clean points
The hard work and prayer never disappoints
My tertiary is here I rejoice
It wasn't my choice
Thanks to all who raised their voice
by Josepoet
#classicpoems
dear mother,
your nurturing is so warm that my DNA denatures because of it,
but at the same time your neutral appearance reseals it.
my bonding to you is like protein structure it takes step to become strong,
like primary, secondary ,tertiary and quaternary structure.
whenever i see you mom, my pitutary start releasing oxytocin,
that gives a positive feedback to my brain.
you are the 3 line of defence of my body,
simply you are oxygen of my life,
as without you cellular respiration and vital organs will not work.
Black velvet painted by nature,
emboldened primaries of
red, yellow, blue,
melding into
secondary chromatic sensations
that, echo tertiary waves.
I flung my soul upon the canvas,
oozed my essence among the blends
and empowered singing paints
to release their rhythms;
expel their agonies and I
left them speaking in
tri-tones, quad-tones
raging vibrancy;
psychedelic amalgamation.
Even Nature vents,
releases her crystalline tears and
robustuous laughter upon this realm;
a wise old sage among celestial bodies;
her passions bleed upon our lives
and we drink, become one
with the soul of Gaia;
our heart songs pouring ecstasy,
right back into hers.
4-26-2021
ALL YOURS (Apr 26) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
We have graduated from many prestigious tertiary institutions,
With flying colors,
Competent and resourceful,
But we are roaming around the streets, homeless, penniless and jobless.
We have been trained,
Under the scorching sun and in the rain,
In skill acquisition
And entrepreneurship development (SAED),
But we are neglected, so we resort to crimes,
And daily marched toward the docks.
We have studied the Constitution and Civic Education,
Equipped ourselves daily
With the articles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights,
Found out that we are the leaders of tomorrow,
A lie as old as time itself.
Since we have tasted poverty and dormancy,
And can't even say when they will stop politicking with our future,
It's high time we make up our minds,
To changelessly be or not to be,
Perpetual hungry applicants or educated and hopeless scholars.
If we are to discover what is out there
we must board the Holy Ghost,
cleave the winds of time
into gods and tridents,
count the star clusters within us.
Under seeking skulls: those white domes,
antique tripods brace themselves,
their quaint brass fittings
helping us to adjust
to the future.
Some seekers turn a grooved infinity sprocket,
some paint cave paintings on the arching
bones of craniums.
Spirit (that invisible violin),
is the prime element
in these spiritual machines,
some of which gaze into darkness,
some that can push behind the past
into a freely radical moment
unmolested by thought.
The secondary element
is the whistling tinker man
or any god we choose to name.
The tertiary element
is the rattle of his pots and kettles
upon his moving caravan.
We hear those tympanic chords,
then like hermit crabs
we leave our shells
and burst out into travelling music.
I can't imagine the cry ranged from my eyes
Sweeping the floor like a flood.
This non can imagine to be our lot.
Despite all hands on deck for success to make
Non can tell of how fate has thus loots us
Adiye nlagun, iyere nikoje
Can our days at tertiary be a waste?
No, I mean never.
Yet we celebrate the warming ass years after graduation
But their sons a greater hope is laid
While we at this end our strength put them in power
Four years come and gone
Our yoke daily compounds upon our glutton.
That that which laid in us as of the Greek.
We dare not enforce
Gbogbo wa tije dodo akole sododo
This thousand generations will benefit
Less their eyes and consciousness are brought back
No place of refuge to hope in our God
For in all our yoke do compound in their sermons and acts.
Our gracious God we pray you to restore us
As that of the Samaria.
© Olorunleke olorode
My palette bleeds in colors
of vibrant energy, electrifying
the senses.
Heavenly blues
that are married to
psychedelic pinwheels.
a kaleidoscope is birthed
on a canvas sea.
Explosion of cosmic hues
in solstice dance.
Tertiary overtones
bleed into
pastel undertones,
searching my imagination
for new stories to tell;
a mandala of enlightenment.
Cried loud all "innovate or perish" all around the World
Why not the education which gives the greatest mould
Primary , Secondary and Tertiary are the steps to consume our life
This system is age old not have any logic with the time rife
Mature are the minds today before their age
Then why You Educationist let their brain waste over page
Think twice and RETHINK, REKINDLE the Hope
Education is stepping stone not a joke
Let the death-knell takes its toll on the past
Rest assured, Children will fly high without a mast
So restructure, redesign redefine the system
That makes the life , CARPE DIEM!!!
TRANSPARENTLY WILD. Sentinel.
Ghosh! a cataclysmic mega quake in its menace,
rumbling tertiary large water wall roars.
Engulfs the red shining bright cutie sentinella,
that stands melancholic but firm with no fears.
Oh! the rustle of the wavy crescendo and a thud,
merciless devastation proceeds to swallow.
Coarse tsunami heads for its mission,
hopefully peeps the light with glow facing the throw.
Yes! come what may,it will not budge,
to direct,protect land and save more lives.
To save mother earth from severe wounds,
under its surveillance,its foresight thrives.
Ah! the fierce aggressive waves carry on,
changing colours from white,crystal to beige,
All the more cinderous it gets expanding on shore.
In its struggle, the lighthouse will not age.
Quatrains with line 2 and 4 with same rhyme and same syllables.
1 st quatrain-11 syllables.
2 nd quatrain-12 syllables.
3 rd quatrain-10 syllables.
4 th quatrain-10 syllables.
Contest:Sentinel.
Sponsor:Eve Roper.
11/2/2016
Ink spilling
Forest Woods writes and it's chilling
The effect is devastating
These are just the facts
I'm stating
Young, smart and engaging
Knowledgeable and good at debating.
Eating up ignorant folks like
A fire
That's raging
And blazing
The kill area is planetary
I make her heart beat fast even though she's stationary
I stay in memory
But everyone says do you remember me?
Shaping rhythm and poetry
Like pottery
Professor Woods this is tertiary
None above me lyrically
Did you notice the PhD
Taking you frame by frame like photography
Awaken you consciously
Going into the Woods will be costly
But lastly
enough about my non existent ego
I would like to be soulful you know?
I differ from current icons
Who are as cold as snow
I want to give my readers warmth
My words aren't for show.
Hopefully I can give direction to my peers who don't know
where to go
Verbal architect
Look at the lyrics and inspect
Emotions are what you'll detect
Hopefully negativity I can deflect
Hidden deep like a sect
Write from the heart to gain true respect.
Search
Patrick Kail
Long ago I lost a precious thing that used to lift me up as it lifted burdens shouldered with it's way of
tender holding .How barren now that what has left it's mark to shame us .Just in a role and this acheless
rage so apt a trick it lies alone as so in many ways reaching each as it denied us. Tertiary paid in knowledge
first an icon green so paramount.Strip ped barren now and left us naught but naked thoughts of whats
spilled a path while denying everything but woe to us the wickedness to whats yet still left so easily still
wanting.
Apr 17 at 3:25am · · Like · Share · Remove
Patrick Kail
Love Fast Run Far
by James P Kail Wednesday April 17th 2013
Like · Edit · Apr 17 at 3:56am
falling from the sky
i scraped my knees on concrete
fingernails darkened by metropolitan deceit
the gale of inner city enterprise
fueling trader commodities
and welcoming queues that form
their redundant mantra
echoing a delayed expedition
the signal beginning our attrition
elsewhere,
coal smeared spartans clash
their frosted resolve melting slowly
inside a timeless arena
closer to home,
oppressed vegetation sprouts
cultured venues calling nature's miracle
a tertiary attraction
despite the pain of this vision
we develop a certain rheumatism
numbing perception and the id
our carnal revelry guided by mohammad
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