spring is the proof that nature is forgiving
it's willing to wipe the slate clean
with winter snows on then off again
hoping that mankind will have grown up
and decided to be much more respectful
AP: 2nd place 2025
Sometimes life leads us to start over and wipe the slate clean
If only I could go back in time,
I'd go back to my prime years,
I'd correct my wrongs,
I'd wipe the slate clean.
If only I could journey into my mind,
I'd permute my thoughts,
I'd sieve out the unwanted,
I'd cocoon my thoughts from the assailants.
If only I could see the unwritten,
I'd know how far it's fated for me to walk,
I'd know the reasons for my walk through turbulent waters,
I'd know how many steps would take me to redemption's shore.
If only I could open the door to midnight,
I'd see the monsters,
I'd give them the chase,
Illuminate midnight's space.
April 23, 2023.
If Only I Could
This or That, Vol 17 Poetry Contest,
Edward Ibeh.
To the ones I love in this world
There is something l need to share
We all unknowingly in life have caused hurt
Totally oblivious and unaware
So, If I have ever done you wrong
And did not realise
Please forgive me
I am here to apologise
I am sorry if I unknowingly let you down
Or my words were too direct
If I caused disappointment
Sadness or neglect
I would never intentionally hurt another
I do not possess the mean gene
Though if I have without intent
I’m truly sorry… lets wipe the slate clean!
Sometimes the most critical reflection,
Resides in your own mirror.
Self doubt cripples all inflicted,
Self confidence is earned daily.
Some must tear others down,
Just to build themselves up.
Some will raise others up,
To share in their glory.
Kindness is a free gift,
Cruelty pays a heavy toll.
Choose a path forward,
Or forever look backwards.
Tomorrow is just another day,
But is guaranteed to no one.
But tomorrow grants the chance,
To wipe the slate clean.
What a year this has been
How refreshing it would be
If we could wipe the slate clean
Then perhaps we could see
A better future eventually
A better life for everyone
Without a thought of Virus or gun
A life where we would share and care
Making problems for the less fortunate
Easier to bear
It's unrealistic to think this way
When the world we knew
Has gone astray
All of us have a need
For Peace on Earth
Without Power or Greed
Never forsake the lineage in which we
originated from because
the ancestors are watching us
Their eyes are on the sparrow
anticipating us to soar into
our excellence
Wash ourselves in their royalty
while remembering they were
kings and queens long before
they became slaves and strange fruit
Society wants to wipe the slate clean of
our heritage by pruning the limbs
of our family trees
waiting in the shadows for the
opportunity to kill it at the root
We cannot allow someone else's antidote
poison us with amnesia that may
cause us to forget the power
of our inheritance
We are much stronger
than they care to know
We must use our pens to flex the
muscle of our minds
Granting permission to build strength
enabling us to balance the truth
on our shoulders
Lets stand our ground and never fold
claim our titles as griots
and let our stories be told
It's up to us to lose the fear
Use the ink in our veins to
to go against the grain of
the lies they expect us to swallow
and washed down with our pride
--LaLa
©4-3-2020
Night sky is splashed with glitter,
As I lie on my back in the desert sand
Reminiscing this is where we first met
This is where I once held your hand.
The icy wind blows cutting deep in my bones
is it you or is it me I am wondering,
Which one of us has to take the blame
Of these mean cold vibes initiating
I take a handful of sand in my fist
Helplessly see the time slip
Just as the sand slips out
Even as I try to tighten my grip
When did we drift apart exactly
When did our love perish
That we turned deaf to each other's
Sounds of anguish
I write in the sand and watch
as the wind wipes it clean
Lets find that old love to start afresh
And wipe the slate clean
And There are thousands more wishes
than my few left breaths could fulfill
I know it is autumn of our lives
Lets squeeze some old love in the chill
January is a time to wipe the slate clean,
And start anew facing the unforeseen!
New and exciting challenges lie ahead;
Undoubtedly, we'll face seasons of dread,
Although, cherish the sweeter times to be had!
Relive yesterdays' good times and forget the bad;
You've a brand new year ahead so enjoy it and be glad!
Entry for Michelle Faulkner's "January" Contest
(3 January 2019)
The purge started with honest appraisal.
A deep peer within to unlock the knots
tying 'never too open' lockets shut.
There were regrets, fall-shorts, damning selfies
all to be opened with tear drops and fears,
exposing the scars, hurts, raw open wounds.
Effective catharsis by expungement
was the only way to wipe the slate clean.
So with scalpel and scraper the rot gut
was excised by wiping bad memories
away with a total system refresh.
The unresolved was foiled with stark parries
the aching boils were lanced and puss squeezed out
Each locket expunged was burnt at the stake
so regrets and short-comings had no where
to hide, no chance to beguile the future.
I enjoyed the glow and stench of the fire.
catharsis smoke and ashes blackening
the sky, carried away by wind disgusts.
What should I write about?
Truth, that is all!
But there is mine,
yours...
and then His of course:
compassion
unbending--
forgiving
unending--
though we are inclined
to weakly compromise;
change only when
uncomfortably pressed;
(having tilted, after being lavishly blessed)
wipe the slate clean
reluctantly, for forced
by self-created
negative circumstance
to heavily lean--
His love is faithful
regardless our fault,
Divine Witness
the crucified Christ.
so can you ever be free from
those whom you thought you
did your best to leave in the
past?
certainly only senility may be
compassionate enough to
wipe the slate clean,
but what about those who have
gone, or who were shoved off
by you yourself,
in a moment of weakness,
in a moment of hopelessness,
in a moment of passionate
youthful
dismay,
all knotted up like stressed-out
muscles?
for we both know,
you & i,
that there are no second chances in
this thing &
we will all be dead so fast
that to cling onto something so far
gone,
seems so irrelevant now,
but in the moments of deepest
depression,
in the moments of aging bewilderment,
further stress & illness,
all those who revealed themselves
to be sympathetic to our cause,
to be
nice to us, in the very least,
come pulsating vibrantly to the
forefront of the mind &
when we reach out with our
fingertips,
needing to speak only a few words,
needing to make some sort of
connection
with someone with whom we
thought we had done something
right,
in the midst of this horribly indifferent
&
utterly brief
ridiculousness,
we’d be lucky to hold that dream in the
recesses for more than a couple minutes
after waking up in the
morning.
Less Than Whole
I now know how much I love you,
But that’s where the problem lies.
There’s a part inside of heart
That can’t get past the lies.
~
Can’t get past the broken trust,
The images of him and you.
No matter how hard I try,
It’s something I just can’t do.
~
You’ve broken something in me,
That seems to be beyond repair.
You stripped away my confidence,
And left me with only fear.
~
I feel less of a man,
Far less than being whole.
What you’ve stolen from me,
I fear will take its toll.
~
So even though I love you,
I know that I must leave.
Go away on my own,
So that I may grieve.
~
This is the hardest thing I ever said,
The hardest I’ll ever do.
Telling the woman that I love,
Our life together is through.
~
With a tear, I’ll walk away,
Free you from the chains.
Wipe the slate clean,
But the bruises still remain.
(Written for a friend who is going through a difficult break-up)
Fake hearts,
Beware what you dream,
In this world,
Full of schemes,
It's hard to redeem,
Horror filled screams,
At nightmare scenes,
Painted with a maniac's brush,
Too late to wipe the slate clean.
Downward spirals,
Tail spinning to doom.
Camera angles,
Picture perfect,
To give your face,
That high-def zoom.
So that looky loos,
Better off than you
Can be home by nine,
And watch your tragedy,
On the 10 o'clock news.
Misconceptions,
In their views,
Thinking they can,
Better choose.
A better life than you.
Cheers to the idiotic ramblings,
Of pathetic fools.
Who are only a few moments,
From a similar fate.
Your last breath,
Is spent laughing,
Cause while they try to cling to life,
You already know,
For them
It's too late.
Fate has sealed the deal,
Pain is what they'll feel.
The blind are leading the blind,
To the fields,
Where the mad men kill.
So this is the end of you and me,
a desperate angel and Melancholy
I can’t take your company anymore,
so just please leave when I say goodbye
Don’t stand in my door and watch me cry
This is the evening that we both die
A run cut short by insincerity
The birthing of calamity
A dramatic ending to a tragic friend
It was good for a little while,
but we both grew old to a little child,
as toys unloved, unwanted, not needed
If these regrets could change our course,
would it be worth the effort?
I’ll wipe the slate clean of you and I
This is the day that we both die
The pain will pass as the days go by
Hope will shine once again
We both say we can still be friends,
but that never happens in the end
There’s always that uneasiness
That dreaded curse of old thoughts
and revealing old feelings
The remembrance of the fights we won
Wondering where the joy has gone
Questioning if what’s right was done
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