Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 2017 Evna-Luna
wordvango
at times I lust at Bukowski's rambling,
others, I see him as a drunk got lucky
Stammering
lost his feelings of poorness
and suffering when he made it big.
I promise to always be
a fine cultured nice laughing
drunk poet whatever what.
Never to put down poetry readings
like I am some God or better
than anyone.
or ever hit a woman
 Sep 2017 Evna-Luna
Ovi-Odiete
Through the darkness and the shadows
Where the road runs through the dark days
All rivers of love and all valleys of pain
For in pain, love's found and built
Transcending again and again
Traveling through a long course in other to find your way Again
I have missed this place
I am back to hello poetry
I took you into my arms,
  to ask about tomorrow

But then you went and stole my heart,
from dreams of yesterday

Reaching deep inside my pain,
  you took away the sorrow

All hurt now gone and future spun,
—the present here to stay

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
 Jan 2017 Evna-Luna
Ovi-Odiete
THE POETRY SERIES

It is the poetry of little things that causes the earth to shred and shudder
The poetry of little things that ignites the greatest moments of bliss.
A smile from a little child,
A chuckle from a stranger.
The warmth of a knitted family
The entwining of old friends
The humming from the sea shores
The journey of the moonlight
The waves, the traveling waves
The Sea, the meandering sea
The Earth, the boundless earth
And the sweet song that nature sings.
These little things, garnered with the greatest love
Observed in silence
It is this poetry,
The poetry of little things that elicit the greatest happiness


Ovi Odiete© All right reserved
The poetry of little things..

Thank you all for the hearts and comments for this little poem of mine being picked as my SECOND DAILY
I can't thank you enough
May your rough road be smooth
 Jan 2017 Evna-Luna
Earl Jane


I'll plant a kiss in your lips,
So that a smile will grow in it,
Then its roots will reach into your heart and soul,
And that love will be its fruit.


© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
For Brandon ❤❤



***. Lol. I didn't realize this became the daily poem ON MY BIRTHDAY. Hahaha.. Lots stuff are happening today and I am really happy. Thank you everyone
 Jan 2017 Evna-Luna
Satsih Verma
Without shadow
an agony, slits me open.
As when I bleed.
I write a poem.

It hurts,
when you touch the words,
the lines, the paragraph―
the page.

From teaching
to be a learner―
a long odyssey from―
innocence to scream.

My namesake, my akin
dies daily. I dig a mass grave
to find my twins,
where the god lived.
 Jan 2017 Evna-Luna
Ovi-Odiete
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
I just needed to write something to come out of writing drought
 Jan 2017 Evna-Luna
Valsa George
Sitting in a restaurant
Over a cup of coffee
And silently having our dinner
With hardly anything exciting
Either to brag or blather
My eyes got hooked
On the occupants of the table, next

Two kids, seated on small chairs
A boy and a girl, obviously a pair of twins
Adorably cute, their father, so young
Who having placed the order
Were in wait for their turn

Carrying a tray, as the waiter arrived
With something of the plainest kind,
Small cartons of French fries,
Bottles of sauce and plain ice cream
The little faces gleamed in excitement
Their beaded eyes riveted,
And their heads bobbed in happy approval

As their Dad opened the carton
And placed before them
French fries sprinkled with some sauce
The children, sprang to their feet
With an upsurge of delight,
Jumping up and down,
Clapping their hands and shouting!

At a small distance, sat we
‘Solemnly’ consuming our meal
With nothing to titillate our palette
Or excite our toned nerves

I thought;
How, in course of time,
Everything becomes a routine ritual
And what stark difference
Between our subdued composure
And the overwhelming excitement of kids!
They haven’t learned yet
That such open expression of emotions,
Is not in keeping with accepted norms

To what peaks of joy, they get catapulted
With mere trifles and silly baubles
While we remain ever at the bottom
Unable to be lifted up

Is this what we call aging?

Or is it

The death of spring
The summer’s dirge
Autumn’s mellowing
Or the chill wave of winter’s blast??
I don't know if it is a poem or a simple narration! But this can be read like a story. Life presents so many such interesting scenes if we are watchful ! Observing children's artless behavior is always a pleasure!
Next page