A middling pudding on the table
flies hover in the livery stable
Mud-covered boots ascend to garrets
frowzy days London inherits
Dickensian scenes to rive your heart
by urchins, street vendors torn apart
Yankees delight in their ‘good old days’
Englishmen sniff the rot of decay
A quick study
fast learner
knowledge gainer
page-turner
info. retainer
midnight lube burner
all at sea
in a world of turmoil
choosing my words carefully
pouring oil on turbulent waters
a salve to soothe the sorry soul
picking only those
which carry weight
reset the balance
and the sentiment I wish to state
losing myself in the still point
of my poetry
it's there where I find
sweet sanctuary
Fragile, I am foam.
Bubbles explode on the shore,
heart tremors waxing.
I love her easy smile
Am mesermerized by her beauty
She has the gentleness of a Gazzel
The grace of a Girraffe browsing
Upon the majestic accacias of the Savana
Her voice makes Fairies jelous in the nether world
Her's is a love the Angels and Jinn alike crave for
She has that tantalizing quality her Kind are famed for
When am with her all mine good moods ignite in love
I stare at the laptopscreen thinking only of her beauty
Her love leaves my innards all mellow and wanting more
When with her it's as though time grows wings and flees
It's with her I chose to make mine life revolve around
Till eternity as we hold hands and walk meadows of Genna
‘the sole surviving minnow floats
recipe-laden toward the NGO* shark’
~ edie-bidi chili-bidi
Please write a 300-word
essay on the prize-winning
poem above. You may select
one of the topics below:
“The Role of Dietary Laws
in Water-Based Poetry”
or
“Cultural Mores in the Face of
Soluble Uncertainty”
or
“Psycholinguistic Advantages for
Poets of Double-hyphenated Names”
Please place your
smart-phones
in the box on my
desk… and begin!
*NGO = 'Non-Government Organism'
Good luck, class!
(You'll need it).
There was this big eye
In yellow enveloping
Wary shaky tree.
Sitting in my writing chair
illuminated by a single candle
and light from a waxing gibbous moon
penetrating my office window.
This would work for an hour or so
until the earths rotation
required my own rotation.
Light enough to pen a few more lines.
I contemplated
how much light
was truly needed to do
the work I wanted to do…
I prefer natural light,
the candle being my only give,
until I grab the nearest flashlight
to make my way to bed.
The day after Christmas is always a little
anticlimactic the gifts opened – the wrappings
and ribbons all tidied, although a few gifts
may arrive late and our Boxing Day guests
may add a few.
But we're past the solstice,
days will slowly get longer
and the moon rising over
the valley’s leafless trees
was a bit over half-full
– kinda like my mood.
Amid the worldly chaos
And earthly blues
Wanes my beloved muse
Like the shattered clouds
My thoughts dissolve
But deep inside they echo
To narrate the fables piled-up
which have been swirling for a while,
The suffocated words strive
Awaiting the nimbus clouds
to cascade down...
For when the nimbus clouds gather
The fierce thunder will boom
And the words will drum aloud
When the rain falls,
hoarded thoughts will cascade
and the arid land will be loaded
But will the nimbus clouds gather?
Will it flow further?
Will the thunder drums play?
Will it rouse my dormant muse?
Will the lightning strikes spark?
Will waning muse step into a waxing phase?
"It will for sure..."
People say, I hear...
But when?
No one can answer...
Until then,
Waning me awaits...
dreaming of the waxing phase,
and relishing the chaotic state...
28-Aug -2023
The way they come to me
the way that they’re heard
And written in haste
whether rich or absurd
Each vowel from the anthem
of consonant rhymes
Pronouncing arrhythmic
with hopes to define
Religiously deigning
the blood from my pen
New veins on the parchment
—alive from within
(Dreamsleep: August, 2023)
Having been lacking hearing since childhood
not completely but without it in full
remember Xrays at six showing irregularity
but nothing could be done where I stood
Only partial deaf on my right side
which was to my detriment to learn
but left school at 15, to be at work
so was still able to work and earn
So many years later hearing grew worse
then got hearing aids from National Health
at first, was helpful but never great
as wax in the eardrum was a real curse
Syringe my ears were now required
as the wax filled my ears so much
but the hearing was very inconsistent
as drastic action now being retired
Now I paid private and went digital
waxing lyrically with my sound
what a difference3 that was made
as I hear words clearly now I've found
So the lesson learned is don't give up
even when you think it will fail
maybe there's something around the corner
to release you from your deaf jail
with darkness alone
a spark enhances its charm
and the dance begins
A fun get-together of do-you-remember-when? Friendly exes.
Date written: 05/18/2020
Blanketed by sunset, we turned on sides to face. Every time our eyes met, shaking hands & making introductions, I could feel myself sweating. Sweating like a candle, lit beside a hot bath. Coyly, I turned to face sky, extinguishing my wick before temptation made home once again; our eyes small-talked some more. Soaking in those emerald eyes, as I did the sun, my skin began to boil, dripping, melting, forming a pool of wax beneath me. By this time, our eyes were well acquainted - best friends even. Then those eyes - those damned emerald eyes - interrupted the chatter with mine, drifted to my lips. Then our lips met, shy at first, but friendly - eager. Without wait, my flame exploded into a frenzy of blue fire, reducing me to a puddle and a set of eyes, rolling in my wax like marbles.
O Icarus, young Icarus flying so high,
As an eagle, in the sunny blue sky, rising.
Waxing strongly in his vigorous youth, so bold;
Fearless, he failed to hear his fine father’s sure truth.
Alas too late he learned his fate, clearly seen
As he plunged into the oblivious sea.
His aged father wept at his cruel, melting fall
Nearby, strangers never saw Icarus’ demise.
So much for feathery constructions wrought with wax
Young Icarus, was lax, dearly paying his tab.
Gurgling in dark white shark infested depths he drowned
No marble slab would ever grace his stubborn head.
Date:10/19/2019
Title: Icarus Falling
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
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