babatunde-adewale - Hello Poetry

I will stand tall Even when I fell into the valley I will dry my tears Even if they keep forming My heart I heard the whispers Like a lovers' saucy gists Rhythming the beats of fate Rain had visits here Leaves but gave a sign Killing the fire with its breeze I pulled my sword in contest It laughs loud at my eccentricity It all dark, better the moonless night The sun will set anon To restore the luminous ray Hurry, give to me back my shadow Am tired of a lonely adventure. I can tip ear the horn of the train, A light at the end of the tunnel. Time to go home race near. It will end in praise...

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Mar 29, 2016

Mar 29, 2016 at 1:23 AM UTC

HOPE

I will stand tall Even when I fell into the valley I will dry my tears Even if they keep forming My heart I heard the whispers Like a lovers' saucy gists Rhythming the beats of fate Rain had visits here Leaves but gave a sign Killing the fire with its breeze I pulled my sword in contest It laughs loud at my eccentricity It all dark, better the moonless night The sun will set anon To restore the luminous ray Hurry, give to me back my shadow Am tired of a lonely adventure. I can tip ear the horn of the train, A light at the end of the tunnel. Time to go home race near. It will end in praise...

21

The battle field is here at rest, End of years of droughty pest After the seekers slaint With less seekers triumphant. What the hell do they seeked? After all, they waited never to see it Just a tears at their grave post, no feast. Worth their bravery remarked. A minute past, all forgotten But the scars stay behind the chin To tell foestuses the tale With their bloods, the land was astonished. No more bleeding of the wood, Weeping of the swords are exhausted Booming! Crushings, the machine dies in decorum Surrendering guns to their triggers Won't the foliages rejoice? Yes! Dancing in akimbo to breeze of peace. In all ruins of yester reds Has today emerge luminous greens. See! Phew! The tomorrow seeds Beckoning more barns for harvests. Battle field heaps for farming. Swords that slain verge to harvest. Hunting games not human; guns. War hurt spoken peace at last. The revolution thus triumph: Our valours are farmers, Soldiers for the green fresh leaves. St. Ylexinho It will end in total praise.

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Mar 28, 2016

Mar 28, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC

AFTER THE DROUGHT, REVOLUTION.

The battle field is here at rest, End of years of droughty pest After the seekers slaint With less seekers triumphant. What the hell do they seeked? After all, they waited never to see it Just a tears at their grave post, no feast. Worth their bravery remarked. A minute past, all forgotten But the scars stay behind the chin To tell foestuses the tale With their bloods, the land was astonished. No more bleeding of the wood, Weeping of the swords are exhausted Booming! Crushings, the machine dies in decorum Surrendering guns to their triggers Won't the foliages rejoice? Yes! Dancing in akimbo to breeze of peace. In all ruins of yester reds Has today emerge luminous greens. See! Phew! The tomorrow seeds Beckoning more barns for harvests. Battle field heaps for farming. Swords that slain verge to harvest. Hunting games not human; guns. War hurt spoken peace at last. The revolution thus triumph: Our valours are farmers, Soldiers for the green fresh leaves. St. Ylexinho It will end in total praise.

31

My archive comes to me Memories of my path of acts I twigged you vividly in absentia Glazing your file ribboned with golds It's more years and six We bade to say adieu Oh love! Sweet love When again shall I feel you skin Is it still skinny fresh as your youth With the micro-pores breathing fresh air? Oh! Sweet Love, my pearl Do that pink lips exist fresh? Little blustery, many zypher The words that therein, I recall Behind, queued a glowing teeth Like bullet set in arsenal belly. How many times has your tongue Licked my coy blushes? Oh! That damning eyes, The mirror I see my face How many winks of your beauty, As recorded to me smiles? Your touches rose my hairs. My dearest, I have given you my love I have seen many cute faces But none is rated than yours. Have you ever felt same as I Ploughing on our days Moments we rollick our love Which profers like an everyday neon God be with us till we meet again.

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Mar 28, 2016

Mar 28, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC

Dearest Love

My archive comes to me Memories of my path of acts I twigged you vividly in absentia Glazing your file ribboned with golds It's more years and six We bade to say adieu Oh love! Sweet love When again shall I feel you skin Is it still skinny fresh as your youth With the micro-pores breathing fresh air? Oh! Sweet Love, my pearl Do that pink lips exist fresh? Little blustery, many zypher The words that therein, I recall Behind, queued a glowing teeth Like bullet set in arsenal belly. How many times has your tongue Licked my coy blushes? Oh! That damning eyes, The mirror I see my face How many winks of your beauty, As recorded to me smiles? Your touches rose my hairs. My dearest, I have given you my love I have seen many cute faces But none is rated than yours. Have you ever felt same as I Ploughing on our days Moments we rollick our love Which profers like an everyday neon God be with us till we meet again.

30

I sleep so decorum in an archive cave After the tears roll on the excursion grave The Sun though slumped Tide by the rain strand Do not think astray, dear For I'm not there I become bird that must rest Low lay on the eternity nest The wings though they are all lost All the songs retired to a sacred post Weep not at my tomb where I lie You do not know, I do not die It will end in raise. St. Ylexinho

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Mar 25, 2016

Mar 25, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC

Silence; Death or Life

I sleep so decorum in an archive cave After the tears roll on the excursion grave The Sun though slumped Tide by the rain strand Do not think astray, dear For I'm not there I become bird that must rest Low lay on the eternity nest The wings though they are all lost All the songs retired to a sacred post Weep not at my tomb where I lie You do not know, I do not die It will end in raise. St. Ylexinho

15

Alas! Nomenclature deviated. Now, for exploitations. Phew! Whenever I recall The emergence of rosary and tesibiu That makes the Oracle beads Lose fist in the days, I summoned pause to my tears. Fine chaffs have cover our eyes That all we sight is good but lies Jesus is beautiful, Mohammed is strong Hmmmn! Devil is ugly and weak? Luther king dream I reveried Marxism: archived in my cafe Have and have not classes Religion: ***** of the masses Trauma flows in the atheists' blood: There is no God but fate Oh! Our priests in robe Covering their heads with load of scarfs A self torment to the brain. Their beards touched their chests While their trousers fight 3rd world war with the ground As they open ajar their mouths To chant alhamdulilah recitations For saka and yummies beckon. Is that what Mohammed taught them? Oh! Our Priests in lucre suits Yet, their protrude bellies peep through, Heaving high and low Like that of the narrow escaper. Mouthach of Herbert Macaulay Curved like a bow wield. Halleluyah starts their incantations Their lips released the splits, ''Dance to the front As you drop your offering and donations, Sow big so that God can bless you like David''. And we gullible oaf sow in their basket. How many candles have they told us to buy, It is to solve your qualms Or bring stable electricity to Nigeria. Who are they emulating! Christ? They are allies to the fiend Politicians in disguise We build that school That we can't afford the price. Our pennies bought them wings to fly While we crawl on our knee Struggling to get d ruins That fall from their tables. They rollick on our sweat Forgetting the horse that ride them thirst Though, we are the bunch of ignoramus. But the Holy books they carried Shall fall them to their grave If they don't stop enterprising...

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Mar 25, 2016

Mar 25, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC

RELIGIOUS DILEMMA.

Alas! Nomenclature deviated. Now, for exploitations. Phew! Whenever I recall The emergence of rosary and tesibiu That makes the Oracle beads Lose fist in the days, I summoned pause to my tears. Fine chaffs have cover our eyes That all we sight is good but lies Jesus is beautiful, Mohammed is strong Hmmmn! Devil is ugly and weak? Luther king dream I reveried Marxism: archived in my cafe Have and have not classes Religion: ***** of the masses Trauma flows in the atheists' blood: There is no God but fate Oh! Our priests in robe Covering their heads with load of scarfs A self torment to the brain. Their beards touched their chests While their trousers fight 3rd world war with the ground As they open ajar their mouths To chant alhamdulilah recitations For saka and yummies beckon. Is that what Mohammed taught them? Oh! Our Priests in lucre suits Yet, their protrude bellies peep through, Heaving high and low Like that of the narrow escaper. Mouthach of Herbert Macaulay Curved like a bow wield. Halleluyah starts their incantations Their lips released the splits, ''Dance to the front As you drop your offering and donations, Sow big so that God can bless you like David''. And we gullible oaf sow in their basket. How many candles have they told us to buy, It is to solve your qualms Or bring stable electricity to Nigeria. Who are they emulating! Christ? They are allies to the fiend Politicians in disguise We build that school That we can't afford the price. Our pennies bought them wings to fly While we crawl on our knee Struggling to get d ruins That fall from their tables. They rollick on our sweat Forgetting the horse that ride them thirst Though, we are the bunch of ignoramus. But the Holy books they carried Shall fall them to their grave If they don't stop enterprising...

57

Rhythming the ethereal tone, Carried a flew on angels' wings All i twig, found in a khakistolic zone. What I see, at daybreak i will sing.

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Mar 25, 2016

Mar 25, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC

DREAMS

Rhythming the ethereal tone, Carried a flew on angels' wings All i twig, found in a khakistolic zone. What I see, at daybreak i will sing.

4

I held her hand in my dream With my nails brushing her hair Her eyes apple lovey scream She's a sample of an adonis heir I ponder at her figure eight Is she one of d immortal sent to tantalised me? Like d lovelorn btw milky and kate Pour me ur love portion, I'll sip I woke and blamed d reverie Angrily I exit d enrivon for an unliven snacks But d liquor can't erase her hue ink She curls toward my leisure, My rips acquaint see Chai, her hair dances to the zephyr rhythm. She knacks "Em. Baby can I date u?" My phonemes lick.

0

Feb 6, 2016

Feb 6, 2016 at 4:35 AM UTC

Oh! Pukka Nana

I held her hand in my dream With my nails brushing her hair Her eyes apple lovey scream She's a sample of an adonis heir I ponder at her figure eight Is she one of d immortal sent to tantalised me? Like d lovelorn btw milky and kate Pour me ur love portion, I'll sip I woke and blamed d reverie Angrily I exit d enrivon for an unliven snacks But d liquor can't erase her hue ink She curls toward my leisure, My rips acquaint see Chai, her hair dances to the zephyr rhythm. She knacks "Em. Baby can I date u?" My phonemes lick.

14

What I do at night Is visiting the Zypher domain To strengthen my weaken heart By communing with the moon The reason filled with your thoughts I wish our shadow meet At the path aisles to the Royal shrine The gulf has grown between us Come wind! Go and bring her here Pouring the juice to her ear To paint her lips with oil And heal her pale. All alone with the talks My friends said am crazy The city felt sorry, odious price Oh! Am I really an oaf? I care never to know But the stream I visit understands My exhausted carbon grows wings And carry my code to the tree I hope one day She will sit under that tree Near the beckoning stream And the moon will open its eyeball There, she will hear the discuss By St. Ylexinho It will end in praise Forever young!

0

Feb 6, 2016

Feb 6, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC

COMMUNING WITH THE MOON.

What I do at night Is visiting the Zypher domain To strengthen my weaken heart By communing with the moon The reason filled with your thoughts I wish our shadow meet At the path aisles to the Royal shrine The gulf has grown between us Come wind! Go and bring her here Pouring the juice to her ear To paint her lips with oil And heal her pale. All alone with the talks My friends said am crazy The city felt sorry, odious price Oh! Am I really an oaf? I care never to know But the stream I visit understands My exhausted carbon grows wings And carry my code to the tree I hope one day She will sit under that tree Near the beckoning stream And the moon will open its eyeball There, she will hear the discuss By St. Ylexinho It will end in praise Forever young!

28

I held her hand in my dream With my nails brushing her hair Her eyes apple lovey scream She's a sample of an adonis heir I ponder at her figure eight Is she one of d immortal sent to tantalised me? Like d lovelorn btw milky and kate Pour me ur love portion, I'll sip I woke and blamed d reverie Angrily I exit d enrivon for an unliven snacks But d liquor can't erase her hue ink She curls toward my leisure, My rips acquaint see Chai, her hair dances to the zephyr rhythm. She knacks "Em. Baby can I date u?" My phonemes lick. (Mizz Ylexinho to be)

0

Feb 6, 2016

Feb 6, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC

Oh! Pukka Nana.

I held her hand in my dream With my nails brushing her hair Her eyes apple lovey scream She's a sample of an adonis heir I ponder at her figure eight Is she one of d immortal sent to tantalised me? Like d lovelorn btw milky and kate Pour me ur love portion, I'll sip I woke and blamed d reverie Angrily I exit d enrivon for an unliven snacks But d liquor can't erase her hue ink She curls toward my leisure, My rips acquaint see Chai, her hair dances to the zephyr rhythm. She knacks "Em. Baby can I date u?" My phonemes lick. (Mizz Ylexinho to be)

16

When I am young My mum be proud of me As I grew up with vision dreams Who knows the source? Soon, As the foliage grow I travel aloof out my court Verisimilitude of life forced my knee down The adonis pulchritude grows brown Infact, the worsen was the sore in my heart I had gone to buy the luxurious flowers Beeping the tone of a pinky hue So cool with its adinfinitum scents But the vessel I want to plant it Has been won by another arms Hairy arms! Yank holding it firm It is wasted! All my chances I wish it a luminous glazing forever While in his arms, You dance Don't fall, else you break I rejig the flower to my physician As a ransom to heal my wound St. Ylexinho

0

Feb 6, 2016

Feb 6, 2016 at 1:25 AM UTC

Untitled

When I am young My mum be proud of me As I grew up with vision dreams Who knows the source? Soon, As the foliage grow I travel aloof out my court Verisimilitude of life forced my knee down The adonis pulchritude grows brown Infact, the worsen was the sore in my heart I had gone to buy the luxurious flowers Beeping the tone of a pinky hue So cool with its adinfinitum scents But the vessel I want to plant it Has been won by another arms Hairy arms! Yank holding it firm It is wasted! All my chances I wish it a luminous glazing forever While in his arms, You dance Don't fall, else you break I rejig the flower to my physician As a ransom to heal my wound St. Ylexinho

22