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You will not see my broken tears,
Nor hear my woven cries
I will take this day and make amends.
I will call the day a new journey
And start by dawn to chase my dreams.
I will not stop when storm comes calling
I will still walk when rain starts falling
I know I have a future
Brighter and glistening,
Better by far,
I know I need to drive on
Soon and close
I will get there.

There is no moment that is a mistake in time's hand
There is no day that should be wasted in life's path
But peradventure you feel you were wasted
Just stand up,
Walk, run
Move still
Rise and chase your dreams,
Chase it beyond those doubts and guilts
Chase it through the darkest night
And if you ever visits miseries den,
Don't give it a pleasure to remind you of your past
Or your pains,
Your days of endless tears
Instead, shun it..... Eat it, swallow it
And plunge on
Plunge on into your dreams and achieve them
There's only one hindrance to Greatness,
And that's fear
Fear is a lover to misery
Rise and Shine.....
AN OVI/VICTORIA'S POEM
               COLLABORATION

What brings an undaunted Warrior down on his knees?"

It is a Woman,
A woman's tears can pierce into the most rigid of souls.
It is her charms and calls
that falls like splendors on morning leaves.
Her sway and bounce, that sends shivers into the hearts.

Such are the nights
she envelopes him in a tailwind,
both of them buoyed
in his regard
of her every thing.
Quenched and drunk
on the essence
of love in action
happen the mornings when he
is the rising sun itself
that draws her
like a mist from the ocean.


And as the moon transverses the lone sky, searching for a mystery to peruse the earth with brooding glow,
So she glows her man into a brighter him.
She encloses within her, moments of illumination, that even the darkest of souls cannot quench.
Such are the days of her unending rainfalls, where she wets up the shallowest of earth's depths....
Intertwining between seasons and spheres.
Her heart is like the endlessness of the ocean,
Constantly drawing him with her hips into a wave of boundless journey.

And so it is
as it always was
through the ages of transience,
their enigma constant,
unending prevailed
against the steely, storming skies
of angst en masse  
that would test loves mettle,
where true warriors, undaunted
rise above, arced
in kaleidoscopic triumph.


Ovi Odiete and Victoria©
All right reserved. 10/9/2016
1st verse. Ovi Odiete
2nd verse. Victoria

I.e, All verses in bold= mine
All verses in italic= Victoria

I particularly enjoyed this intense collaboration with victoria, the author of "QUAGMIRES AND QUANDARIES".... One of my best poem yet.
She writes and conjures enchantment and I thought of writing this poem with her.
The poem focuses on the strength of a woman over a man.
Her myriads of effects she has on a man's heart and how she can bring him down on his knees begging.
It is an intertwining poem.
How he perceives her.....
How he is drawn to her mesmerizing call and enchantment and how she sees him.... His yearnings and calls too.
Who better than VICTORIA to bring out the message in this poem.
It's a pleasure..... An immense pleasure writing with you Victoria....
Born after months of waiting
Gone in a hurry to be God's Angel
Born so parents can be blessed
Gone so heaven can rejoice

Baby Stella gave much
Without giving
Baby Stella said much
Without saying

Baby Stella came to tell you
That you are special
Your love tested and won;
You gave hope and strength to many

May you in your solitude
Be the most peaceful
With an Angel by the side
Thank you Sherly
Thank you...
Baby Stella was 27 days old when she became an Angel.
You will not see my shadow pass
the gate of mournings eerie dark
Nor hear my voice among the reeds
that grow above my silenced heart
No fondest kiss to furrowed brow
to quell the torment of your making
for you have left me here alone
to sleep the sleep that knows no waking.
The last line was pilfered from a Victorian grave stone. It was too beautiful to leave there.
They robbed us!  

The one’s that told us what it means to be men…

THEY LIED!!!  

They told us feeling is wrong.
And they taught us to be STRONG is to be silent.

"Build a pit," they said, "make it so deep that a lifetime of emotion can’t fill it."  
And we oblige.  
But we know it’s there…
The stench keeps us up at night.  
The fetid fumes cloud our vision;
The windows to our souls opaque to the outside world and those we Love, those we want to reveal ourselves to.  

Meanwhile, inside, we’re clawing at the glass with bloodied hands.  

                                       GOD HELP ME!!!
                                                                ­I want to be free of this!!

See me!  
                                               I’m a human being!  

I have hopes,
         I have dreams,
                I have fears,
I feel sorrow, I know regret, and I believe in redemption…
but all of this...
It's for someone else… someone weak.  

What a lie!
So delicious we swallowed it whole—a bitter pill dipped in honey
Given us by those we love,
                                    by those we trust.  

The poison works through us,
                                         unrelenting,
T w i s t i n g us, turning us against one another…

No emotions!  
Not here!!  
You’re a man!!  
Be a man!!
**** it up!!!
          **** it up until it chokes you!!!
                   **** it up until you can’t feel anymore!!
                             **** it up until you’re dry and broken!!
                                       **** it up until you forget...
What life was and what death is…
              
                               **** it up because that’s what men do.

They corrupted our legacy
They stole our future.  
And we let them do it.  
We helped them do it.
I have so many friends that have absolutely no idea how to express themselves.  They spend a lifetime denying their emotions and when the mid-life crisis (revelation) comes around they descend into a deep depression and struggle to "find" themselves.  

I don't even know if it's possible to climb out, to breathe fresh air after the weight of a lifetime of repression/suppression is lifted.  I hope it is.
In ancient meadow yonder
She frolics with butterflies
Wearing a halo of wildflowers
*~Marian~
Written: August 25, 2016.
Dedicated to my three favorite poets:
My mom, Hilda, and my Dad, Timothy,
And also to my dear friend, Lena S!!! :) ~~~~~<3
After a long hiatus, I have returned!!!
Hopefully I can write more poetry soon!! :)
Pain, suffering, mourning about it all.
Why can't I understand the meaning of it all, God's true call?

I thought about it long and without mistake,
I filled my mind with love and prayed until I heard no refrain.

My thoughts rebound and ricochet about,
I can't control it and neither can these restless legs who want to shout.

I realize now it truly all is in my head,
for me personally...God is dead.
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