When the land is arid
and the ponds are dried up,
Dying frogs find moisture.
They hop from place to place.
Cocooned in comfort,
We wine and dine.
Indifferent to the pains
And the suffering of the poor frogs.
Fun times for human!
One day mother nature strikes,
The opposite happens
and humans are drowning...
Humans begin to struggle and clamore
Dying by the thousands.
Frogs watch us floating bye
Fun times for frogs!

©IvanBrooksPoetry
15/10/3918

Blessed is he who writes
For his words transcends
Time, space and moments,
Far beyond the constellation.
Blessed is he who recites
Spoken word and poetry,
For his craft circumvents
The core of our existence
Deep into our inner man.

Blessed is he who writes,
For his thoughts interacts
And deeply influences minds
That belongs to other people.
Blessed is he who bends letters
Into words and words into
Sensational and captivating
Stories of true love and courage.

#IvanBrooksPoetry©

Even though everyman is his own man
Yet no man an island,
Because he needs the next man
To give him a helping hand.

Every man needs a friend
For a piece of bread when he's hungry
Without love for his fellow countrymen,
There won't be peace in their country?

Each man possesses a unique tone
Yet no man alone can make a mass choir
For he can't sing all the parts alone
He does not have all a choir will require.

A man's wealth may pay for his funeral
Yet he'll never be able to bury himself
For it's impossible to partake in a burial
When the person being buried is yourself.

I write not for glory.
I just tell my story.
Sometimes I motivate
Other times I educate
Most times I inspire
Oftentimes I rewire.

I write not to entertain
I do it often to train.
Sometimes to impact
Other times to inject.
Most times I straighten
Other times I enlighten.

I write not for pleasure
Neither do I for leisure.
Sometimes to showcase.
Other times to erase,
The misconception
About my poetic vocation.

I write not at all to boost
But just to do my utmost.
Sometimes it's for a cause,
And most likely not because
I have nothing else to do.
This is my life,so I have to!


    IB-POETRY ©
12/17/2018

She said
Are you losing your head?
Calm down
You need me right now
Breathe in, breathe out
let it out.

She said
Take your time
You gonna be fine
You need this therapy
let's talk about your day
Follow my advice
Just close your eyes.

She says something
I heard nothing
I began to laugh
And I let out a sigh
She laid her hands on me
And took control of me.

She said
Tell me your problems
I help you solve them.
I began to stress,
My emotions were a mess.
She touched my lower back
It felt like an electric shock
I began to say something
And told her everything
I felt like I was healing
Or was I developing a feeling?

She said
Lie on the bed.
Man she had some curves
And the relaxed my nerves
She had everything
But I could do nothing!
This was just therapy
And for me a very bad day!

.✍️IBpoetry©️✍️

A wise man thinks twice
And only acts once.
He asks several times
And accepts blames.

A wise man prays
And always waits.
He understands delays
And certainly never quits.

A wise man spits wisdom
And always seeks knowledge.
His thoughts aren't random
And is never associated with rage.

A wise man is very honest
He strives for perfection.
In everything, he does his best
All because he follows instruction.

A wise man is always a student
And loves to ask questions.
He's always willing to listen
And will at all times, ask for directions.

A wise man changes
They say,
His words and deeds he balances
At each and every step of the way.

IvanBrooksPoetry©️

My greatest inspiration is Poverty.
It awakened something in me,
And inspired me to write poetry,
Yet motivated me to chase my dream.

Poverty is the caveat for my hustle.
It rekindled something deep in me,
And Prepared me to embrace the struggle,
And put me ahead of the survivor's game.

Poverty is the iivisible blackhole
That pushes me away from the ghetto
Oh Sonewen.you raised me like a flagpole
You are my Lagos and you are Soweto.

Poverty is the reason I push my children.
For I wish not for any of them to taste,
The regressive nectar from her left hand.
For it will brew in them pain and hate.

IB-POETRY
17/01/2018
#Bassapoet

Tonight, my two exhausted eyes refused to fold
And my timid soul is all restless and wide awake
Just Craving warmth and sleep but winter is cold
Oh deep sleep, give me thy frail hands to take .

It is very late and the sleep I crave is elusive
It's Casually playing by the rules of the universe
And the sleep I seek this hour appears less active
Saving the sweet yawning and naps that I deserve .

Night is here but sleep seeps beyond the light
Come back to where thy sleepy presence is needed
Oh Come you insomnia master of the starry night
Come to where a little bit of nap is appreciated .

Tonight I will genuflect before my bed and weep
Oh come to me now you dark and sleepy phenomenon
Bring me thy sweet dream to process when I sleep
Come and help me find that sleepy elusive demon .

twitter @ivanclappers
#IvanBrooksQuotes
FACEBOOK @Ivan Brooks Sr
#ALLLIBERIANPOETRY
#IvanBrooksPoetry

I'm underrated
Yet I sit alone
undefeated
On the throne
I created
I'm home.

I'll never be defeated
Not with a drone
Because I protected
My entire zone
With a tool I fabricated
Using a harpoon
That was discarded
By a great typhoon.
But they reacted
And sent a platoon
To have me eliminated
late in the afternoon.
Again I circumvented
Them like a half moon
And with all I had, defended
My title like a real goon.

IvanBrooksPoetry

My poetry will circumnavigate the world,
And ride the waves beyond the continents.
Maybe someday I'll become translated into many languages.
Somewhere my words will grace many moments.
Even though I was born to disadvantages,
My poetry has resonated beyond the Ghetto.
Sonewen, the womb of abject poverty,
Who once prayed for the children of Soweto
Look at where you placed my poetic identity
See what your genes engraved in my DNA?
Just listen to the poet in me roar like a lion.
Old verses I wrote from the belltower of the College of West Africa,
Rhymes I perfected in the Chapel of AME Zion,
Has become spoken words I penned in Europe,
Disseminated daily on platforms on the internet.
Great words of motivation engineered for hope.
I was born to write, for this journey I am set.

IB-Poetry©
01/02/2019
#Bassapoet©

If they say the truth is white
What color then is plight?
Please give me something to write
Let it be something very bright!

If they say lie is very black
what color then is denial,
Is it a  new shade of dark?
Because dark is like a human trial.

If happiness is a sunny yellow
What then is depression's hue
I guess it's a deep shade of sorrow
Or is it some kinda demonic blue?

If hardship is some kinda gray
What color then is uncertainty?
I reckon it's a mixture for a better day
Something to cover shame and pity.

So is mixed emotions a color of the rainbow?
It should be because it contains colors
That will cheer us when our moods are low
Some we can use to paint white over sorrows.

✍️ #IvanBrookspoetry©️

If love had a meter
And inputs were measured,
As a partner or a lover
Would you be surpassed?

Would you allow yourself to be cheated
In order for the love to thrive
or  even out-communicated
Just to make sure the love survive?

If love had a meter
Would you allow lesser time
And seek to do even better
Just to make sure things were fine?

If love was timed and monitored
Would you willingly agree
For your love meter to be decommissioned
So our love can blossom and be free?

If our movements were restricted
Would you allow me to run freely,
In no form or shape be intimidated
Just to prove you love me dearly?

If love depended upon equal inputs
Would you be so caring and selfless
To disregard the unwashed dishes and pots,
My relaxed demeanors or care that I do less?

IvanBrooksPoetry

Blind dates don't bring us the desired results
Especially the ones others planned
Blind dates are like somersaults
No definite or softer way to land.

Blind dates aren't like real dates
We get to meet very strange chicks
Many come wearing a lotta faked cakes
Some capable of giving you the kicks.

IBPoetry©️

Smile every day like you have it all
Smile even when big trouble calls.
Put on your Sunday's best, have a ball,
Smile at life and scale trouble's walls.

Smile through your times of trials,
Adorn your armor and stand very tall.
Smile even when thick darkness falls,
It's the light that illuminates the hall.

A Smile doesn't mean you have it all
It's just a sign that you are contented.
Smile with people, say come on Y'all,
Show sadness we're not yet defeated.

Smile even though you lost everything
Yet smile like you haven't lost a thing.
Do it each morning and every evening,
Smile to show that life is worth living.

Smile through your troubles
Don't let the devil see your tears.
A smile is the antidotes against hurdles
And the mosquito in the devil's ears.

  #IvanBrooksPoetry©
07/26/2018

loud noises
Flying metals
Where are my glasses?
Charred out rose petals
scourging flesh
human remains
wounds were fresh
Hot melting wire meshes
Scattered Brains
Blinding flashes.

The eery silence followed by loud screams
More sounds, coming from wounded people,
Lord my God this a dream, no really what it seems.
Lot more sounds evidence of human struggle
Somebody help me please, my baby!
Survivors scrambles in utter confusion
Hang on till help comes, do you hear me, lady?
Some rescue workers rushed by amidst the commotion.

The news flashed, somebody planted a boom.
A terror group claimed responsibility.
Silence descended upon the hospital room
I am alive but something tells me I'm a casualty!
Death toll rising,
International reaction
Children Crying
I silently prayed for the victims, without hesitation.

On my knees, I silently prayed for the terrorists
I ask God why God didn't answer,
I figured He had one, this the realism.
That he is not on any side, He's a forgiver
That includes those who carry out terrorism.
Dark souls Led by an ideology with a ****** history
Whose purpose is to make the world live in fear.
Unlike others fighting you, we say a prayer with poetry
This is our ways of showing we care.
We have an army of sound minds made of writers
Searching the constellations for words to trump hate
In spite of the fact you have a caliphate and brainwashed fighters,
We hope our messages of love hasn't come too late!

IBPoetry
2/7/2018

I had a thrilling dream
but it was more like a vision
Of myself by a beautiful stream.
Like I was in another dimension,
I saw the great Lord of poetry,
logic and spoken words.
He was leading an army
They were armed only with swords.
The army was building a city
With books and plastered with letters.
I heard it was the hub of artistry
That was set aside for writers.
Bewildered, I asked about what I've seen,
He said most poets won't make Heaven,
But this poetic paradise is guaranteed.
So go and notify the brethren.
He said take heed and keep writing,
write spoken words, spit and share knowledge
for soon the Lord of poetry is coming
to reward and take away poets on his carriage.

#IBpoetry
8-2-2020

Every poet has something to say.
Be it to himself or to the world,
Be it during the night or day,
Be it via a poem or spoken word.
The world is just too busy,
Or its people are often too lazy.
Either to acknowledge or listen
or pretend to humbly care.
This leaves some of them broken.
The sheer rejection some can't bare,
So they keep quiet until they die
Robbing themselves of a great chance
To hear from the deep and smile.
A chance to sleep with a grimace
Courtesy of a very beautiful poetry
Written to the world by a humble poet
Somewhere in a faraway country,
Delivering introspection, hoping for the best.

#IvanBrooksPoetry©
12/7/2018

Deat Lord,
I know we say too much of the little some people are trying to do when we should be trying to do so much about the little we have done...help us!

Dear Lord
Though I too haven't done much about the some of the little things
I have to do, I know if I put in some work and go according to your
plan and your will, I too will begin to do little instead of talking much...help me!

May the intangibles becomes tangibles and may success become my new address accordingly. May manna pour down upon me and everyone else in times of little and may it pour exceedingly...help us!

Dear Lord
May my vile utterances to not have devasting consequences.
May my misguided friends and relatives become people of purpose and direction.May my entourages be well-meaning people...
help me!

Dear Lord
Help me to give those in need.Help me to forgive those who betrayed in my hustle and put my bread on their personal tables instead of mines.Help those who believe others to stop doing that right now...help us!

Dear Lord
My kids I present to you to be in thy care.May Ivan jr not only drive a new van but bless him abundantly that he'll be able to buy anything in this world.Bless Peter to be more like Ivan and bless Sarah too to be more like both of them.Help her dear Lord to be that lawyer she wishes to become..protect and bless them always and forever...help me!

Dear Lord,
As I lay my head to sleep, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight... moreover, may I set foot on the right path and continue until I find gold before I become too old...help me!

Dear Lord
As I wake up from my bed tomorrow, may the challenges of tomorrow that lay ahead become my testimony for your glorification.May the impossible become possible and may whatsoever man deem undoable become doable...help me!

©️IB-Poetry
2/27/2018

Can we just talk
For old times sake.
Can we take a walk,
In spite of the heartbreak?

This journey we are on,
Started out just alright.
We glued and started to bond,
Holding hands under the moonlight.

Can we just talk
I'll apologize if I'm wrong
So Can you just halt,
And jam to this love song?

I have been dreaming
It's you I know I want.
You have been refusing,
Telling me you just can't?

Can we just talk,
About what's happening?
I crossed the line of chalk,
Therefore I've come begging.

Remember the time
When we were young?
I was broke without a dime,
I gave you a rose and a love song.

Can we just talk
And reflect on good times?
Can we please talk,
In spite of my love crimes?

Give me another chance,
To do a poem on your heart.
Let me take you out to dance,
To make up for my bad act.

Can we please just talk,
Like we did before?
Can we just take a walk,
Near the ocean shore?

#IBpoetry©••#Bassapoet

       <<< 26-3-2020 >>>

If Beckham could bend football
And If Moses could lead Isreal,
I can do extremely well with poetry
And One day write my name in history.

If Robert Dinero could make it
I vow to keep trying and never quit
If President Weah could win an election
I will continue to write with passion.


©️IB-Poetry
2/22/2018

Some people are born blessed
yet always stressed
Others have less
but are happy nevertheless.

Some people are bystanders
having nothing to do with things
And some are mere followers
Getting on every bandwagon's wings.

Some people are born leaders
Persuasive, charismatic and zealous
And some are just whistleblowers
Loud, insensitive and callous.

Some people are so weak
Unable to do a thing
Some are just meek
Able to bear anything.

Some are bright
Some love to fight
because they love to be right
Some are strong
and never want to be wrong.

Some people are slow
and love to lay low
Some are lucky
and have everything okay...

Some are frisky
Some are *****
Some are risky
Some are very cold
Some are old
And some are bold
Some are very casual
And others are ******
Some people are wise
And others are very nice
Some are real
Some are cruel
Some are sad
Some are bad
Some are lazy
Some are crazy
Some are intelligent
Some are insolent
Some are consistent
Some are insistent
Some are resilient
Some are proud
Some are loud
Some are useful
Some are wasteful
Some are playful
Some are careful
Some are powerful
Some are thoughtful
Some are hateful
Some are prayerful
Some are beautiful
Some are sinful
Some are creative
Some are sportive
Some are positive
Some are supportive
Some are destructive
Some are selective
Some are talkative
Some are argumentative
Some are competitive
Some are combative
Some are abusive
Some are active
Some are loquacious
Some are disastrous
Some are malicious
Some are boisterous
Some are industrious
Some are adventurous
Some are religious
Some curious
Some gracious
Some are serious
Some are moderate
Some are considerate
Some are blessed
Some are cursed
Some are alcoholic
Some are workaholic
Some are visionaries
Some are missionaries
Some are radicals
Some are rascals
Some people are sweet
Some love the streets
Some are hustlers
Some are smugglers
Some are wealthy
Some are healthy
Some love the pills
Some love to chill.

Some are black
Some are white

Some people are ugly
some are pretty
But it's ok
Some were born that way

Some people are well traveled
Some are just locals

Some people are gays
Others are straight

Some are short
Some are tall

Some are social
and some aren't

Some are educated
Some are illiterate

Some are from the north
Some are from the south

Some are born writers
Some are avid readers

Many will like this
and many will hate it.

We are all children of a God
Who prefers peace as His byword.
God, the grandmaster of creation,
Who specializes in perfection,
Designed this beautiful universal community
Using the blueprint of diversity.
One thing is certain
Even though we are different people
from different places
and different races,
we will all die someday
Such is life
One world!

Millions walked this Earth before I arrived
and millions more will come after I leave.
But when I leave this temporal phase of my life,
I wish to be known and be remembered.
Not as a Church or some golf club member,
but as a member of God's greatest family.
Someday when I sojourn to be with my ancestors,
It's my fervent hope to leave books but not an enemy.
You see, many left and will never be remembered,
Because they did nothing with the creative ideas
that once lingered in their bright and beautiful minds.
Many of them wrote, said or did absolutely nothing,
by which mankind and history will remember them.
Yet few are known by their words or deeds.
Good or bad, history will speak highly of them.
When I leave someday to join my ancestors,
I shall be remembered by unborn generations,
for expressing my thoughts and inspiring people.
Through my inspirational quotes, and through my facebook posts.
Some of which will be written on gravestones,
written in books to be read and quoted by people.
The most meaningful and significant ones,
will be engraved on the minds, hearts, and souls of people.
Forever for ages to come, forever I am going to be remembered!

IB-Poetry©️
3/23/2018

Chose to love who you are
or respect who you with
You can give total care
get pregnant and give birth.
It's up to you
Love however you want
it's up to you
If it's what you want.

It's also up to you to love
yourself partially
And give perfect love
to someone else totally.
Maybe it's up to others
To love or hate you bitterly
or treat you like one of the brothers.

It's up to you to smile
or take the abuse and hold tight
if you think you can go the extra mile.
So stand up if wish to put up a fight.


IB-Poetry©️
2/26/2018

Yesterday is standing with us today
Today too will be with us tomorrow
Today and tomorrow will all pass away
And Adios from me represents sorrow.

If yesterday and today becomes tomorrow
It then makes no sense to look for them both
They took a flight today on the perpetual arrow
Destined for the future,east beyond the south .

Left with us now is only this moment called today
It's actually the leftover of the other day left with me
Which is basically part of the past called yesterday
I hate to say but all these days to me are the same .

I can finally exhale and look far beyond tomorrow
A wise man told me that's where the future lives
All I need to do is apply to God for days to borrow
For the future is beyond distance ,time and miles .
✍️©️
#IvanBrookspoetry

She was a woman kept out of sight
Her silhouette caught in the twilight
Her body and mind longed for passion
She sat in the confines of her mansion
Alone, wishing for the white horse
and the Prince in possession of the force
To sweep her up her royal feet
And give her a kiss before they even greet.

She faced east against the glowing sun
Her mind told her the time was perfect for a run
She hesitated and contemplated and waited
In her agony, she turns to the mirror and nodded...
Indeed she was very young and beautiful
Why was an opportunity for love not plentiful?
After all, she was a young, and beautiful queen
Smart, charming, gorgeous, that's how it has been
Her eyes were very special, a crystal kinda blue
From early childhood, there were talks about its hue
So people began to call her a new name at nineteen
All because of the color, she became known as Indigo Queen.



IvanBrooksPoetry

I know where I want to be in five years,
but I really don't know how to get there.
Though I have uncertainties and fears,
as to how to start, when to start and where,
but I'm pretty sure If I do it like I did
five years ago and five years before that.
When I trusted God to guide me through it.
Encompassed by faith, I just hung on like a bat,
For One year, one month, one week, one day,
One hour, one minute, one second, at a time.
I held on through the storms, I held on all the way,
Emboldened by faith, I took a leap that got me home.

©️IB-Poetry
2/19/2018

When you lost your way
Look far beyond today
Far from anywhere near here
Tomorrow lives over there.
Tomorrow's non-existence is a sorrow
Therefore Look beyond tomorrow
The future lives somewhere there
It's an unfinished abstract picture...
You have to look far beyond the future
Hope lives somehere far beyond there.
Don't you look beyond hope
Because nothing else lives over there.
So If nothing else lives beyond there,
It certainly means you have arrived.
When this happens, know you're blessed...
Evidence that you've worked and focused,
Which means that you did indeed listened
When told to look beyond Tomorrow.

✍️ #IvanBrookspoetry ©️

Reeducate yourself
by using what you've learned
to question what you've learned.
Take the answers to those questions and
question them again and again,
until you find what you need.
Sooner or later you will realize
half of the things you've learned
are a waste and most of what
you really needed to learn
was outside the classroom-

Like events yet to unfold,
geographical locations and places
yet to be seen and explored,
experiences yet to be had,
books yet to be read,
researches yet to be made,
fences yet to be jumped,
trenches yet to be dug and crawled through,
seeds yet to be sown,
rivers yet to swim and bridges yet to be built.

Things like adventures yet to be taken,
cliffs yet to be hanged from,
oceans yet to be navigated,
mountains yet to be climbed,
shattered dreams yet to be chased,
harvests yet to be gathered,
tears yet to be shed, music yet to be listened to,
sleepless nights yet to be spent,
roads yet to be traveled,
milages yet to be covered,
mysteries yet to be figured out
puzzles yet to be solved,
risks yet to be taken,
lies yet to be told and hearts yet to be broken.
many disappointments yet to be experienced,
chains yet to be unshackled and races yet to be run,
pains yet to be felt, battles yet to be fought,
and loses yet to be endured.

IvanBrookspoetry
4.30.2019

Intense pain that precedes death
Too much suffering on this earth
Why do we have to go through this,
Is this what the end of everything is?

I rather die than go through all this
but yet again I rather live than die
If I die today I'll be gone and be missed
That's when my deeds will be praised.


©️IB-Poetry
2/20/2018

I didn't parachute into 2019,
My journey started in 2018.
I walked through obstacles
And jumped many hurdles.
I swam across mighty rivers,
And was attacked by alligators.
I lost nearly everything,
And had absolutely nothing.
of course I ran out of money,
And babes stopped calling me honey.
I was falsely accused
And often times abused.
When I became penniless,
I also became homeless.
There were times when I sobbed,
when I got yanked and flogged.
Many times I vowed to give up,
But I had to continue to the top.
Some days there were storms
But I had to hang with both arms.
At times I had no calories to burn,
And obviously didn't know where to turn.
So now you know how I got here,
I didn't parachute into this year.

       IvanBrooksPoetry©
01/01/2019
#Bassapoet©

I have a secret which feels so wrong.
There's this very beautiful lady
Who sends me photos in her thong
Morning and night, every day.
Her salutations comes via text
I haven't yet the courage to reply,
To ignore her makes me really vex.
This is reversion, a deadly play
With unknown consequences,
What do I do, how long can I resist?
I see not far through these righteous lenses
Yet without these secret messages, I cant Exist!
I caught myself secretly praying for her to stop
Another part of me doesn't want to let her go,
Maybe I can intentionally let the phone drop,
Or find a bourbon and drown my ***** ego.
Even that will not help change a **** thing
For I will still wake up to the daunting reality
Of the dilemma that has changed everything
Which is my deep little secret with this thong lady.

©️IB-Poetry
2/23/2018

Mid-February is not like January
There's always so much going on
Yet she seems to be in no hurry
Oh, I wish she'll soon be gone.

Mid-February is such a slow journey.
I can't wait to see the face of March,
At which time it will be a bit sunny,
I can casually dress and go to church.

February is like that crazy *** friend
Who's always a part of your daily plans?
Though he's always giving a helping hand,
He'll litter your place with empty beer cans.

February has always been a unique story
That I've never wished to narrate all alone.
So be it, if I may, but I'll not sit and worry,
But wait on March in the comfort of my home.

IB-Poetry©️
2/19/2018

I speak, read and write
four international languages.
Not to mention a few dialects.
I have seen a thousand movies
and read hundreds of books.

I have been to four continents
and visited dozens of cities.
I have traveled by land, air, and sea,
and have climbed a few mountains.
I have seen three oceans, some seas,
and have seen dozens of lakes and rivers.

I have seen a Jew, an Arab and a Kurd.
I have heard their views and perspectives
On politics, religion and secular things.
I saw a priest, an Imam, a Rabbi, and a monk,
Performing their respective religious rites.

I have worked with Russians, Gypsies,
Swedes, Denish, Norwegians a Greek,
Some Lithuanians, Baltic and Polish peoples.
I have consulted with British, French, Germans,
Americans, Dutch, and other Scandinavians.

I have seen some very great monuments
Like the statue of Liberty and the Eiffel Tower.
I have been to many beautiful landmarks
Like the old Twin Tower and Have seen  
the new Freedom Tower and Central Park.

Yet I remain humble....

#IvanBrookspoetry
#Bassapoet

I don't vocalize
I'm not a musician.
I don't embalm
I'm not a mortician.
I don't make objects
disappear in thin air,
I'm not a magician.
I don't flip numbers,
I'm not a mathematician.
I don't heal patients,
I'm not a physician.
I don't tell funny jokes
I'm not a comedian.
I don't do hair or makeup,
I'm not a beautician.
I can't run for public office
I am not a politician.

I was born to flip
Letters into words.
I can write a lovely script
Shiny like samurai swords
I can bring smiles to faces,
Via a beautiful love story.
I can take your mind to places,
Using the magic of poetry.
I can make the sun to shine,
In a dimly lit corridor.
My words will outlive time,
Like the soul of a gladiator.
I can morph into a genius,
By the stroke of my humble pen.
The nectar of my ink is gracious
Always doing the best it can.

#IvanBrookspoetry©
@Bassap©et✍

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

The acquisition of the prayer blunt
Is the pathway to some solution
A puffed takes you up the mount
Another brings out the benediction.
After a while, you begin to wonder
If things fell below your expectation
Not until you laughed at some blunder,
And start to fall short of the rotation.
Then it'll dawn on you that the blunt
Was truly the source of your happiness,
And that all your worries were now fun
Unbeknownst to you, your royal highness
Is now officially looking down from space.
Where you've been for a little while now
Occupying a throne in that special place.
Where your mood put out a cool green show
Where your revamped taste buds discovered
How good everything suddenly tastes.
A place where your hidden senses gets uncovered
And stump out the clip of your **** beneath the shades.

IB-Poetry
2/11/2018

They say one man's inspiration
Is another man's distraction
Therefore call my perception
Another man's imagination.
Poetry for me is a water fountain
Yet another man's mountain
I talk to Maya Angelou in my dream
And lick words like ice cream
Many days, when I sleep at night
I know this doesn't sound right
I do it twice a day, every Sunday
Than again twice a day on Monday
This is an unusual association
That some will call an abomination.

Let me be, let the demon do as it pleases
This is not fetal, not like other diseases
This my life, my calling, and my power
Let the poetic demons come at any hour
Let them plant the seeds of poetry in me.
Maybe they'll bare stardom and fame.
Maybe this will finally take me on that Safari
Riding side by side with President Buhari.
Maybe I will be one lucky writer
Fortunate to do business with the banker,
All this is just my imagination
So don't take it into consideration.

IB-Poetry©️
2/10/2018

Yesterday is gone
But not without a fight
Hope she makes it home
On tomorrow 's flight.

Yesterday left us
Only with memories
Bittersweet like citrus,
Tomorrow's calories.

Yesterday is almost gone
My Sweet Lord Jesus
Today I'm not at all alone
For you blessed few of us.

Tomorrow was yesterday
And today will be tomorrow
I can't wait to see the day
When yesterday will bow.


IvanBrooksPoetry©
3/29/2018

Some of the things I write
will be foolish or great...

Some will be controversial
yet actual.

Some will be bad
Or sad.

Some will be good
Some won't.

Some will be cool
Or make me look a fool.

Some will be liked
Or disliked.

Some will be commented on
Or shunned.

Some will be highly political
or comical.

Some will become an instant hit
or not deemed fit.

Some will divide
Or unite.

Some will make sense
or considered a nonsense.

Some will be tremendous
or ridiculous.

Some will be a waste
or without taste.

Some will be logical
or illogical.

Some will hurt people's feelings
and leave them foaming.

Some will be inspirational
or motivational.

Some writings will be right
and considered bright.

Some will be laughable
Or applaudable.

Some will be ingenious
or ridiculous.

Some will be enlightening
and some entertaining.

Some will be cooperative  
or divisive.

Some will be beautiful
or just wonderful.

Some will be plain
and clean.

Some will be positive
or negative.

Some will be kinetic
or acidic.

Some will be ******
and some factual.

Some will be constructive
or destructive.

Some will be educative
Or argumentative.

The things we write
few are somehow bitter
but they'll get better
....see you all later!


©️IB-Poetry
2/23/2018