Nobody tells a prophet to shut up,neither a rooster to stop crowing.
It's like stopping a happy person from
Laughing.

Nobody says to the sun" stop shinning!"
Neither the wind "stop blowing!"
It's like stopping a bird from flying.

Nobody says to time "stop moving!"
All you can do is stop yours on the wristwatch.
And you know what that means;
You will only stall and fall behind, left behind by time and the rest of human civilization.

Similarity, nobody can say to a poet "shut up and stop writing poetry and exuding spoken word!".

Who's going to write about truth and introspection?
Who's going to write stories that'll captivate our imaginations?

Who's going to spin odes in a way that the world will question a poet's source of inspiration?

Who's going to make love letters speak another language?
Who's going to write tragic stories and make it look unique?

Who's going to give wings to dead letters?
Who's going to write for speech-impaired lovers?

Who's going to give light to blind words and afix them with wings?
Who's going to guide them thru things?

#IvanBrooksPoetry©
01/8/2018

Today is a messenger from God
Sent to us in fulfillment of his word.
Treat it like a precious gem.
It's a special day to them
Who values the blessings it brings
Not only the useless material things.
Today is also another day
Just like yesterday.
It began this morning
And will end this evening.
Accidents will happen,
Taking the lives of many men.
Many people will cry,
And many more will try
To be brave and strong
Even when all goes wrong.

Today is another day
To me,it's like any other day.
Happy children will play,
And some people will pray.
For many,it will be their last,
And for young babies, their very first.
Few people will take a bath,
And many happy folks will laugh.
Many good books will be read,
And hungry Stomachs will be fed.
The dead among us will be buried
And many couples will get married.
Others will pray to God above
To send them someone to love.
Yes or no, it's up to God
To honor his divine word.
You see,at the end of the day,
It's He who has the final say.
So remember to give him praise,
For today was sent by his grace.

#IvanBrooksPoetry©
30/7/2018

When a published poet dies,
A shooting star falls.
The universe cries
And rainbows hugs waterfalls.

When an old poet dies,
A new poet is born.
Nature lights up a million fireflies,
And a ship gives a tot on its horn.

When a young poet dies,
A Crack appears in a crystal ball.
A Fountain pen dries,
And a sad poem appears on a wall.

When an old poetess dies,
For a while the wind will cease.
Petals will fall from Lillies,
And disappear without a trace.

When a great poetess dies,
Fallen poets observe silence.
The men adorn black bow ties,
And the ladies dress in elegance.

When any poet dies,
The world loses a bright mind.
Shakespeare appears across the skies,
Waving to those of us left behind.

When a poor poet dies,
Nothing at all happens.
The world goes about its duties
He goes on to rest with other legends.


#IvanBrooksPoetry
29/7/2018