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Best Poems Written by Henry Ategie

Below are the all-time best Henry Ategie poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Together Forever

"I do." Two words
Which have sealed our lives
And bound them together
Forever
Goodbye Beautiful License
- License to cheat,
Fool around and get
Fooled around. No more
Late hours at the club. No more
Partying till the sky drops. No more
The life of a party animal. No more
Flings with flirty friends
With a forced smile on my face
I walk down the aisle
With my partner.
Partner! That word scares me!
Shared house, shared room,
Shared bed, shared food,
Shared children perhaps,
Hopefully, shared finances.
That part sounds good
But what a price to pay: freedom!
Exiting the church building
Into the open air
I ignore the cheers and applauses
And glance at the decked hearse
That will convey me to a life of
Confinement.
Have I made a mistake?

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Animal Farm

A common purse I thought we had
A common ideology I thought we shared
I was wrong. I can’t believe he lied
Yes, we got rid of the farmer;
Yes, we all fought for the struggle
Well, almost all – save for him: Judas
Who cheered us on with a promise:
Give me your voice. Give me your support
And utopia will become a reality.
He forgot to mention its name: Animal Farm.

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When We'Re Old and Grey

When we are old and grey, what will they say?
It all comes down to this: the good old days
A rocking chair, an old tobacco pipe
Tiny feet sprawled about, faces in need of a wipe
Dear little ones, I have a short story
About the early days of great guts and no glory.
Travails came my way and choices had to be made
Mouths to feed and bills to be paid
The fool of the court I was called
Not once was I perturbed nor appalled
Dusty shoes and never owning a car
I worked so hard all my life and all I have are
Soiled clothes, dirty hands, a clean conscience and an empty can
Although I lived in bondage, I will die a free man.

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To Louisa:

Life showed us immense kindness when
One day, a princess was born into our home
Uniting estranged brothers,  nay, brethren
Into one hive, into one honeycomb
Solomon, Henry, Paul and Stephen
All brothers of yours
Armed themselves morning till evening
Brooms swathing at insects by the gross
Revelry revealed in our victory dances
Aunty wakes up in anger to shut us up
Halting our steps and prances
A queen you were born to be
Mom is proud of you; so are we

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Ragnarok

Today
I lost another piece of my flesh
Strangely
I feel no different than I had been
Yesterday
It was only a little portion of it
Tomorrow?
Who knows? It just might be everything

Still
I marvel at the rise and fall of day
Wishing
Time would make up its mind
Hoping
For once, humanity becomes vanity
Happy
To see it end one day

Unfortunately
Time zones make Time a dummy
Undecided
It watches hopelessly and helplessly
Weakened
By carefully-caliberated divides
Mankind
Craftily created to cheat its own demise

Defeated
Time seeks help from the Leveler
Death
The only being unrestricted by zones
Slowly
With his souls-snatching scythe in hand
Surely
Time, in the end, becomes the victor

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Voyage

Water. I need water.
Can someone help a man
Dying of thirst? Dying of hunger?
You with the watering can!

Can you spare a drop or two?
Be kind to a weary one
For tomorrow it might be you too
Life decides to use for fun.

My path I didn't choose
My journey chose only me
I fear I'm destined to lose
And be lost like a drop in a sea

I am strong. Well, I was!
I am tired. Still am!
Life for me is a fuss
All clogged up like a dam.

I see my end. Thankful.
My end beckons ruefully
Suddenly, I feel like a fool
At the self-discovery of my folly!

My end ends with an open door,
A cup of water on the other side,
Loose change on the bare floor
And a new map for the ride.

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Sweet November

Alone in the dark
Daydreaming about what was once mine
Eternal flames dancing about like a lark
Killing my sorrow in bottles of wine
Up until that night
Nothing – and I mean nothing ever
Left me in such a state of fright
Except for that fateful day last year in November
Arriving at a crossroads
Jungle boots and helmets
At loggerheads with civilians in folds
Shots fired. So many deaths
Including my beloved’s
November is here again, and so is the hurt!

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I Am Your Child

Mother, most dear mother
The taste of your milk lingers still on my lips
The hours spent on cuddles and coos
And soft palms ‘pon my back
Preparing me for the future -
A future of pats and whacks –
The softness gone when I’m wrong
How you manage to do it
I don’t know. But
What I do know I know is
This: I am your creation
Whether I go forth, hither or thither
A stop! A stop, I say!
No more the mindless calls to petty duty
For me, I am done
My skin longs for a taste of the sun
I am your child but I’m no longer one
Spare the look of surprise when I’m gone.

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The Son of the Morning

The lord of the earth, the ruler of the world
You were once adored by Heaven and all
Most gracious Lucifer, the pride of the Almighty
Now lower than the basest of trash without pity
I wonder why you did it. I wish I could talk to you
I wish I could hear from your point of view
The version no one sees or hears.
I wish I could tell your story to who cares,
The hypocritical world, which has become a vestibule,
Will mock and say I ask the impossible
Curiosity drives me like a herd of cattle.
And I dance around like a snake’s rattle
Knowing as the Devil you were once an angel
Makes me know trust is overrated like a diamond bell
I do not judge you. That isn’t my job
The truth will be unwrapped someday like a cob
I do appreciate that you dared to be different
Though it made your membership card to be rent
Judgment for us is around the corner like homecoming
I extol not Satan, but the Son of the Morning

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A Bloody Conversation

"Nice to see you again", said
Mosquito to the Blue-bottled Fly
"I see you are well-fed"
"Thank you", replied the latter. "I
Returned recently from a big meeting"
" What meeting? The CONFAB?"
"Yes. What a bout of feasting!
There was so much blood on the slab!"
Softly stroking his proboscis, Mosquito said: "I don't know about you
But I prefer blood that comprises
Vitamins and nutrients, fresh and new." Patting his robust belly, Fly asked: "Where can I get such?
Would that mean waking up early?" "Yes", replied the other. "Pretty much.
Just stick with me, I'll show you the difference
You are yet to see
Human blood is a whole new experience!" "Thanks for the offer, but
I'll stick to the butcher's venison. With him, I have an honest cut
Human blood is sacred - that's a reason!"
And with that, Fly flew away
"Potbellied fool! Who better than myself
Knows its value? I'll go on my way
And let him find out for himself!"