Ambert Emily Dickinson a spinster
her short verse upon us did confer
Without titles she did versify
just one of the convention she does defy
Allow me the pleasure
Of being the one
Who still gets to you
Even under the pressure.
Allow me to be
One of the people
In your life
Whose words you may cite a friendly gesture.
Allow me the liberty
To be young and free, with you
Walking graced in our leisure
We’d hold hands; winds scatter and breeze through.
Allow me to write
A poem about you
Just you!
I'll versify you in my mind’s eye and pen you out
With the most beautiful words so that in spoken word I can finally recite:
I love you.
'You are the tea leaves I am the teapot
I the tiny snowflake and you the snow’
This is how the essence of life shuffles
Forth and past you and me.
I am the head you are the crown
Making me feel the king
Of our fancy land, in which
The subjects were but two, you and me,
Who owed allegiance to whom
Remained still unredeemed.
Beaming down from the sky
You are the sunlight, gushing down
Towards the mother earth
In a flow of transparent bright,
I the rainbow, beset with your rhyme,
Proclaim my adoration for the sky
Only on days rainy, by embracing
It tightly in my seven-colored wings
To save it blushes in its dress-up gloomy.
You are the gold I am its ornament
You are the verse which hides in me
To make me glitter and
Give me a feel angelic.
I am the rose you are its smell
Who's the one who'd
In its contentment versify
To make the other get its due?
A life that thirsts for the other
Is incomplete in its solitude,
A body and soul enshrined in one
Is a deed that captures the life
In the essence of its being.
‘You are the tea leaves I am the teapot I the tiny snowflake and you the snow’
Ode to Mum by Maria Williams
To Lesley do I owe a big debt
No more over verse will I ever sweat
Reading her nuanced advice between the lines
My motivation to versify sharply declines
It has become clear to me that my rotten rhyme
Is so very close to being a humanitarian crime.
So,Ms Duncan,to you must I convey my thanks
That no longer will I invest in poetry banks.
Now must I banish my obsession with a final farewell
And consign all future thoughts of poetry to the fires of hell.
Without me,may all you genuine poets flourish
And your love of poetry always and ever nourish.
With a truly sad heart I do lay down my pen
And I will not demean Parnassus ever again
And yet who can ever be fully sure and rightly know
When the Pierian spring through one will once again flow?
DAWN HOUR
Dawn hour where I walk with you,
Was the time I ever spend with you
The world unknown us,
As we were the slave of that morning,
Time was wangling us,
Coz we did before the sunrise,
The morning star were too seen,
But all were silent,
The light were dim,
And my eyes were vim,
The nature were very fresh,
The road versify the day with some kind,
Butterfly were jumping and dancing,
With the new born leaves,
Perhaps I was to dance with you,
If you were to joint my hearty moment,
Of my love! once it was….
Written by
-Nehemiah theophylus haokip
Date 13/5/11
To dwell in the realm of Doggerel Bank
Shows the writer up as a crank.
Should anyone my poems stoop to chronicle,
I would surely be ranked with the Great McGonagall.
Whether I rise with lark or cockerel
My poems sink to the depths of Doggerel
If nocturnal like bat or owl
My verses stink of murder most foul.
With reason then will I abjure rhyme
Writing bad verse is worse than a crime
No more will I a poetaster be
And so I set my readers free..
So fair fortune to those who versify well
Adieu to my readers , my final farewell.
I pray there'll be space reserved in Paradise for poets to muse and versify,
To honor Him and the wonderful things awaiting us in the Great Bye and Bye!
I know not what awaiteth me but I believe in the covenants He hath made,
And since He promised eternal life, I approach my passing unafraid!
Placed No. 6 in Carolyn Devonshire's "Perception of Heaven" Contest - Mar 2012
Why
when I
begin to write a poem
am I
disturbed
by other poems
that break the walls
my mind has built
around them?
Why,
like now,
do I try
to versify what
looks like prose?
Who knows?
I write.
Ca va.
It goes!
I rest my chin upon her , I caress her neck
She responds with the music of the ages
Silky hair rubs across the smoothness of her belly
Her melodious voice Heard soaring in the wind
We are one Together , creating the music of LOVE
I stroke YOU and YOUR voice sings A Cappella
Together we are one and the Symphony continues
Strings tie the universe of mankind to the Heavens
Remember I told my music teacher I want to versify
As Strings of love, become strings of pleasure
Dozy-do, allemande left with a Kiss on the cheek
Its Ho-down party time, with a Stradivarius
Classical, an aria of down home Music, a Legacy
The same instrument singing two different Songs
In quite solitude she whispers the sounds of Love
Spirits lifted, in the Melody of Togetherness
Inspired by the Contest “ Sound Madness “ sponsored by
Nette Onclaud : my Instrument the “ Violin “ (Fiddle)
By HGARVEY DANIEL ESQUIRE
Through the beauty of words,
an unsuspecting poet unleashed his passion,
instilling it into my brain.
His in un-familiar form, written flawlessly, so sweet they say.
Oh, do not hungry nor tease me with your musing,
for my stomach surely can’t wait
to peek through the youth of your life
Do not ask
what my heart can do, once young,
but now complicated and ageing on my favorite pillow.
Nor seek the truth, inside me, wandering not from my ways.
Do you see in my face the youthfulness, once I had,
now hidden for eternity behind this frail skin,
and clothed by this grayed beards of my yesteryears?
A great rhymer,
sometimes a free-verser,
so many years ago, versified the Earth.
Not of salt, but by his wondrous soul, tinged with crackling hues of fall.
O you, who de-versify me
do I see thy quill rhyme?
Then bother not thy self to ask about my sonnet.
If we,
The words whisperer,
Are the ones that have the power
Of the silver quill, then
Let us move, in oneness,
And versify the earth
With more crème caramel
And not of salt,
Nor, of vinaigrette;
Let’s cultivate our thoughts
And rewrite our differences,
With lovely rhyme and songs;
O, my fellow words whisperer,
Come…O, come
And let’s have some fun!
By the way,
Did y’all enjoy your soup today?
Nuff said!
Note: Hello Joe, I enjoyed reading your poetry/blogs
and I love your “Nuff said!” hope you don’t
mind, if I borrowed it …..for a life time…..lol!
Thank You!
God was the first to drop the mirror
and a mighty crack was born
crisscrossed by two
the webs of life began
Webbed paths merged though time
over shattered remnants of a holy glass puzzle
no three feet may tread upon a single cracked line
Though life lines cross and parallel one another
new fractures are created
branching from fracture to fracture
in an endless labyrinth
all can belong to only one.
Individual fault lines between heaven and earth
versify life and life itself sustains
the desire to break the mirror.
Lives and lines of life begin
and though the edges of those lines run close
and cross the lines of their conception...
They are separate
weaving themselves into the mirrored web
of life's longing for living.
My salutation still goes
To the people living under heaven
To verily verily versify my words
For generations of beings
To think beyond the earth
Where one will live forever
Living a life of worthy cause
From the days of the man
Who deepens our heads in water
Who sprinkles on us water and bears John
The race for the kingdom above
Has become a Royal Rumble
Only the strong taketh it
By water and fire by HIS grace
Striving to have a place above
Where one will reign with the King
Bowing piously to the King
Of all the ever existed kings
As the gong for my salutation ends
Let all ears be open wide
For the days to the above is horary
It tickles away slowly.
Alayande Stephen. T
30th ,October, 2005
01.45am
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