We are the world
Because we write
We write yesterday
And today and tomorrow
We are the history itself
And we draw colors of all
Like white and black
And blue and bright
We are changing the world
From the Darkness to light
We are peace to the world
Because we draw green
And we are creating art and science
To everyone's life to be full with bright

The poets's day is coming
We will play on papers
With inks, in pen tubes
We will draw rainbow
We will design sunshine
On the poets's write floor
On the date which it is
Our day

✍️
♥️♥️♥️

Today is our festival
We are slaughtering
A Ram and a Cow
Some it's a male goat
Others have a camel,
In the kitchen of houses
the meat are slicing and
the bones are cutting,
the frying fans are frying
and the pressure pots are
cooking...
But!
In my house, is a pen
I slaughtered and the
Hand is holding it,
putting more letters on
the papers and the papers
are frying the letters
into the word and the
words smells a phrase
sweetly in Safana's
Poetry Kitchen

My head fell off.
due to tension.
That left me perplexed.
Does hate turn into love?
I'd prefer it to be lower.
Rather, it turns into hatred.

I'm not going to forget these last moments.
I remember the previous several hours.
I can even recall the last several days.
I remembered last week.
I'll always remember these past few months.

I can't believe it was years ago.
despite how challenging our time together may be.
We are united in the cold and the heat.
regardless of how bad
or unpleasant our relationship is.
Whether we like it or not, we're bonded.
What, then, was the source of this hatred?
It is the outcome of a birth or marriage.

It makes no difference.
News will surface eventually.
The narrative will diverge from

A richest mother,
who let
her children suffer,
she is, a tallest
than a tallest Palm
and Dates trees,
For those
who are near,
her shadow is useless,
And those,
who are very far
benefitting massively.

It's my richest and,
a giant mother
Nigeria

My face growing
like a sunshine
because
my chickens grew
up like ostriches

Free freedom
Pavel Durov is a freedom itself.

No peace to
those who
submit
totally to
devil's
power,

Peace is for
You and I, if
we totally
give our
submission
to the Nature

Peace,
Take my hand.
Let me be with you forever.
Let my life be a friend for you forever.
And be my joy, without obstacles, so never.
I want you today to be my driver.
And to drive me between green and river.
So never draw a line between me and you.
When I try to cross the river,
So let me be so wise and clever.
For the reason that I am a peace’s believer.
And also a peace achiever.
Who will bring peace as a respite?

Be bright broom
Swipe dust floor

The greatest kitchen
ware in a poetry
kitchen is a pencil,
it's a sharpest to cut
and slice alphabets
into pieces of words,
on a papers to make
a bunch of phrases
and the crates of
sentences and
Beautiful book
of poetries from
the poetry chef
...

I want draw
I want write
and my pen
can't write
for there is
ulcer on the
lead sleeve
and the cone
is not shaped,
the pen ring
is rough and
the grip is
broken and
eraser cap is
chewed by a
cat

The scent diffuses in...
The spaces are sweet
The love breath out,
The love breath in,
The pepper mint scent
Is blowing randomly,

Fear none but Persians

Twirl it up, twirl it down.
Twist a tongue and twist it.
One leg whirl, one hand whirl.
Sway in your way and lay.
trip slowly into the strip.
Dance high with bouyance.
step it slowly after footing it.
Take a rag and cut a rug.
For you, the place is flooring.
And foot is footstepping.
Shake it low.
Shake it up.
Feel it on your feet.
The dance is not a boogie.
This dance is a pirouette.
And the dance is gyration.

...not a colored
but colorful,
neither a red
nor black like
red berry and
blackberry...
very sweet more
than everyberry
Sweetest to read and
to listen more
than every fruitberry

for it's lovely
and delicious
...

The dish on dinner table
spoons and forks, placed on the
table, And the table is decorated
All plates are placed on top of
The table, and papers on the
Rounded table carrying
Big pens, welcoming the
Guests and participants to
Eat after writing what all
They are provided with on
The table, is full and bright
With drawn fruits and The table, is full and bright
With drawn fruits and nectarines
On drawing papers

Tasty to taste
A sweetest taste
Like a mixture of
nectary alphabets in
the jug of imagination
pouring in the cup
of words, the hand
of phrases take it
and the mouth of
sentences drink
a poetry juice

Light is on its way.
Tomorrow is waiting.
Let's celebrate it together.

A point of lay,
What to lay, an
an egg or eggs,

Nah! It's egg
a beautiful egg
laying from
somewhere
very fragile
and soft, like
tissue and
soft bone,
sometimes
catilageneous
in a hallow
space where
blood is oval
in a region
Called
HEART

It's an egg
of love
laying from
HEART

The previous government developed rural and urban areas.
and she succeeded in that. Although we are not political, we appreciate it. Even though the government was accused of corruption, it would have done infrastructure projects and been praised, but unfortunately, the government failed to return to power because of the hatred and envy created by the opposition. I mean those with a red hat, a rooster with a red head, or should I say a lizard with a red head.
Today, in Kano, the infrastructural projects that the government developed for the community have started to be destroyed. Because of greed, hatred, and envy from the opposition. In the past, I said and I said more that you should not choose red-headed roosters or red-headed lizards; you shouldn't choose red- hat  ones. So here's how it happened and ended:

That,
the origin of any writing
was a pen,
A pen to write
letter,
letters to make word,
words to give phrase,
could  be main
or subordinate,
in relation to the names
constructing a
greatest fence,
of a sentence to declare
a war or a peace,
and imperatively,
to give a
light for interrogation,
to find the truth
or a knowledge and
to make exclamatory
for the people