A day has finally come
When I could think to myself
And gasp, still surprised
That I've ceased to love you
You see,
I used to feed by breathing you
I awaken everyday to live off you
I used my brain only think of you
My life was alive from you

But a day,
Oh a day has finally come
When I don't crave of you
Takes a mile of thoughts to remember you
My heart is no longer fond of you
You were my passion, but goodbye to you

i know a thing or two
about being immune

shutting off feelings,
acting amused

dozing to the sun
awaking to the moon



i know a thing or two
about happiness and doom

stirred in one cup,
served for two

strapping bandages
covering abuse

Poetry is Mona Lisa,
timeless,
alive,
beautiful, mysterious and sometimes chaotic,

Poetry is the garden of secret,
full of craved trees with memories
of yesterday, today or tomorrow,
memories of dancing to the joyous melody in the living room
or memories of weeping due to sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

Poetry is the purple hand
touching the haggard and joyous souls,
towering hearts on cold dark night and sunny loud night,

Poetry is a diary
to souls impotent to pour the spectrum
of colors in the heart and mind
onto blank paper.

There's a certain uniqueness in being strange

The thought of being different,
Unique with words,
Best amongst equals

The thought of being the light amidst the dark
Invading all chasms
Shining forth

The thought of being strange,
Like a talisman abstruse
Strong, yet soft in approach

Tall, yet bend when the wind blows,
Cold, yet melt with emotions,
Better by far

Best amongst equals

Ovi Odiete© Jan, 2017

On new year eve when the sun on the west hung low
And the east wind on dead leaves blow
I paced to the yellow woods
And sat on my favourite wood
Where not long after I fell into a trance
Not of any divine trace
But a dream from my person
And I saw a vision backwards:
365 days ago, not long ago
I was on the same spot
For the familiar new year ritual
That of writing my aspirations
My fickle fingers wrote my dreams on the hard earth
On the passing sands of time
But no traces of them was left
Perchance carried by the furious wind
To the store house of wasted words
I continued in the vision backwards
When I heard a voice from me saying
" Don't write your dreams on sand
Write them on your heart "
I woke from my short trance
When the crimson moon was awake above
And the night owl hooting echoed through the woods
Left the woods without performing my ritual
Because i heard a vision backwards
" Don't write your dreams on sand
Write them on your heart."

Give me Ink,
give me paper,
Give me Ink and Paper
That is all I ask for,
Not money,
Nor gifts,
But Give me Ink and Paper
Or I die

WHAT A POEM SHOULD BE

A
        Poem
               Should
Be
             Devoid
                  Of sentiments
            Should be
                   Dark as the Night
Or
                Clear as the day,
          *A
      Poem
            Should speak
Attention
And
        Not seek attention
             Should be
           Bright as the culminating cloud
Or
           Dark as the emanating nights
A
        Poem should not seek, but speak
Should be
              Free as the Moon moves the earth
       A
           Poem should
Be
         Free, but not stale
     Should be
            True, but not forced
A Poem
       Should not seek,
          But speak
Should
Be
    Vast as Rainfall
And yet
       Calm as Dew falls
A
                      Poem
Could be
        Violent,
But mean no harm,
Could be hateful,
          But mean no hate
    A
          poem
Should
      Be bright as SUNSHINE,
Should be
           Vast as Rainfall,
      Yet
         Calm as Dew falls
A Poem
     Should not seek attention
But
     Speak attention!!

Should be
        Vast as
               Rainfall

                     *Should
                          Be
    Vast
       As
            Rainfalls

Let it be known that there is a God who watches over the earth
Let it be known that this God
Cares for us
Let it be known that you are not the maker of yourself
Give Glory to Thine God of Heaven and Earth
Let it be known that whether you are an atheist, Muslim or Christian,
You shall all bow before this God
And give accounts of all your deeds on Earth
Whether you believe it or not
There is a God
And He's God whether you believe it or not