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Sunday Ameh Poem
when you see a litlle boy
drawing carts and painting pictures
or a little sister weaving the hair of her teddy
bless them with the ink of their style.
When you see a son enquiring into his fathers death
or a daughter smilling to motherhood,
show them the road to heaven, for it's more than reading the bible,
as hero's print can spell these clearly.
Am in a world
where potency is planted in all seeds
but fear of dry season has cut down her shot.
and we cry of tomorrow when today is unused,
speak of evil when our angels 're lay to rest
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
when an ambitious hand
and a rushing mouth
cast a canopy of ramblings
or utter distress
and anxiety spoills the ground,
the state of silence
from she we think is a fool
is an answer to wisdom
and a conquerer of might
for where does the slow movement of a cat leads the ratty rat?
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
when i close my eyes so deep
and my voice streches in acapella
i could hear love song so quick
reviving the deepest of soul like an orchestral.
Though i travel through the winds of deceit
for the eyes seems blind to the heart
but this song is like an instinct
that blinds my certitude like that
How could i dance to love
when the deepest of my emotions
is ringing in fear of odds,
yet my legs rushes to stage in passion.
How could i kiss with the fullness of joy
the mouth that sings love song
so controvertial,but irresistable fallr
so blind but without reproachable sought.
These song 're songs of the sea
defining nature in a plenitude of uncertainty
though trickling the sweetestof breeze
but the crest,trough,storms 're of certitude.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
Let the shepherd command
and her flock shall follow at once
for upon the voice of the teacher
shall our knowledge counts hither.
Let the master show us the field
and her labourers shall gather in bliss
for in thy orchard and vineyard
shall we find treasure at hand.
Let the warrior blow her trumpet
and we shall gather to celebrate like eaglets
for thou hath rescue us from the allies of war
and granted us our territory as lords.
Let the king calls her servants
and we shall hasten our feet
for thy kings palace has blessed our jaws and teeth
and there our refuge restoreth.
O conqueror
fierce and burning like the blacksmith sword.
let men who contend with thee
fall before the battle ground in shame.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2009
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Sunday Ameh Poem
when solitude is sought,
on a rthynmic angle,in low note,
resonance is caught,and inspiration is bundled.
When voices 're heard as acapella,
and the throat stretches like an orchestra,
behold,its love that pours and sprinkles
what every youthful heart 'll rekindle.
And when wrinkled cheek
smiles,bless God,claps and dance in seconds,
the joy of an elder is as high
like the theme is heaven.
When celebration as laughter
is cast on tough drums,piano and electric guiter
and voices 're sparingly gushing out
the world seens to be a stage
and fun is spread at age.
But behold,when the flute of a funeral is whistled
and the choir sings on slacked hymn,
and the cheek 're rollin down tears,
the legs that dances only wrestles against impossibility for farewell is the theme.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
When the potter started to clay
out of wisdom,moulded in stages
light,separating night from day
and within time perfected all pages.
A thing of time and patience
blesses the shoulders of the wise
and the trueness of a firm conscience
builds solidly joy in the eyes
for what patience can't do,
impatience does neither
though tomorrow seems odd
for the hangs that swim quicker.
But hear therefore the song of the shephered
"in the watchful eyes of season the rain must clatter dusty grounds,and dusty
ground sprouts forages ,and forages bost the thigh of sheep "
so therefore guide your craving in the tickling of the clock,
and where delay seems as dailies or fog seems to cloud the sky
sing the song of the shepherd.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
Let cringing tongue fall
and rough elbow bend low
and the heart that beats faster shall o
forever beats peace to all.
let still water remain still
And he thats down fear no fall
Pride is good,fall it call
Seat never on the fence,peace it kills.
Else we fall victim of greed
Let there be peace in our conscious thought
And busy hands chase idle plots
Least pay ear to satan's heed.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
if you call it a sin
the youth 'll shout it's our time
as experience shall count tomorrow.
if you call it a chemisrty,our fathers shall add it's our heritage,
for the blessings that surrouings the table
comes from the seed moulded by the potter.
who 'll question divinity or nature
though immorality spreads like breeze and infedelity speaks orders,
let him bless the hands of reproduction that brought an egg to a crawlin baby,
then to a craving youth sleeping in hope,
and a home of hope building realities.
if you talk of an old man
who sleeps under the roof of memory
waiting for the handsome hands of death,
bless him for tha passionate kiss that transpired when he wore canvass and
neck lace,
expressing his strength under skirts.
This history of creation is more than heritage or addiction,
as gay without fear of misconduct
abuses nature and drink from the hands of cruel civilization.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Sunday Ameh Poem
Behold man must offer the true taste of instinct
and like craving conquerors unleash the bitter sword of her regime
and in the tickling of the clock
under a polished mindset 'll count her fortune
knowing fully well
that the sweetnest of honey is justified only when vinegar has been tasted.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Sunday Ameh Poem
Behold, man must offer
the true taste of instinct
and like craving conquerors
unleash the bitter sword of her regime
and in the tickling of the clock
she 'll embrace her fortune
knowing fully well the sweenest of honey is justified only when vinegar has been
tasted.
Copyright © Sunday Ameh | Year Posted 2008
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