Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I sit down with you
So willing to hear
Caught up in your web
Just knowing you're near.
I catch myself often
Getting lost in your eyes
Put my hand to my chest
As my heartbeat multiplies.
I cling to each word
That you speak to me
And hold on like it was gold
Whatever the topic may be.
Speak all night and I'd still be sold
Talk about anything;
It would never get old.
I'd listen the whole while
And sincerely care
About what you say to me
I'm so thankful you're there.
The night reaches its end
We go our separate ways
But I'll be dreaming all night
About what you had to say.
Another teenage love affair. Silly, maybe, but honest.
  May 2015 Abidemi Alawiye
Nessa dieR
Goodbye  because with you I walk on fake ground once more.

Goodbye  because the silence hurts more than your truth.

Goodbye  because the restless nights are catching up to me.

Goodbye  because common sense has won over my heart.

I'm leaving without the fear of failing,* **for today I end what had never started.
Abidemi Alawiye May 2015
You have come a long way dear child
Though you may not see it, you belong
Your dreams and aspirations, you're living them
Right now, even in this very moment
That which you have lost is not all gone
for at one stage you had gained it,
it will remain forever in you, you
yes you, open your mind to new possibilities
the world is full of them, them
The highs and lows of everyday may shape who you are
but don't loose yourself in them
Always aspire to achieve greatness
You have yourself and only yourself to compete with
So rise up as you always do
Those thoughts you have, those ideas you have,
those are not illusions, infact they are more real than your reality
Oh dear child, you were not born just to dream,
child you were born to live them
Everyday is a journey, but know this,
nothing remains the same forever, so take it as it comes
Trials may come, peace, joy, happiness, even love too
but all in its own time,
Busy as a bee you may be, do take time to listen to the wind
Don't just learn to dance in the rain but stop and read
the stories left behind by footsteps in the mud
yes, mud, she was your friend at 5, she let you mould her
into cups, cakes even houses too
but oh child she was inturn molding you
She became a doorway to what you have now learnt to call your imagination
Free and wild like a stallion in the desert, she does not want to be tamed
dear child, so why are you trying to conform?
that which you think and dream off, make it a reality
It's already in YOU.
When you've been beat down your whole life ant told that you will amount to nothing, then future you visits you and tells you who you truly are.
  May 2015 Abidemi Alawiye
AK Bright
Consuming devastation
as if it's life-giving bread
Flesh, a merciless master
Ineffectual thoughts sway my head

With each indulgence
the captor becomes more emboldened
Betraying the true master
to whom I'm beholden

Surrender comes easier
with each new concession
Just one more link
in the chain of spiritual recession

Slaking every desire
as the senses grow cold
While the battle rages
between body and soul

One will be nurtured
the other put under thumb
Sin is spiritual Novocain
just making me numb
  May 2015 Abidemi Alawiye
Brycical
Parents would prefer kids stay away
from these three jobs,
cause as they'd say
There's no way to make any money.
At least you can sell paintings with art
or hock a few bucks with albums from your music.


No parents encourage children into any of these gigs,
especially prophecy.
Today, a kid would be fed pills for breakfast
if they expressed any interest in becoming the next Jesus or Buddha.

Suppose Moses decided to go try an open mic comedy night
instead trading his commandments for a set list
but I bet his adopted parents would have lectured him just the same.
At least Moses would have gotten a few laughs.

The job descriptions are strikingly similar,
just like the outcome
a 50% chance the audience will applaud and chant
or watch you in heavy, maudlin silence... sweating nervously struggling
to maintain a sane face while raucous thoughts of loathing and doubt chew then spit out pieces of heart and soul forcing a confrontation of an emasculated existence for five to seven minute while....

whoa, hi, sorry.
Must've been having a flashback for a few seconds,
forgive me.

There is a difference though,
in the mindset of this trio.
A poet knows they're crazy,
a comic ponders if they're nuts
while a prophet thinks everyone else is just cuckoo.

I can see why parents don't want you to
go near these three jobs,
problem being, it's more of a calling than a culling,
and once it's answered,
all I can say is, well...




good luck.....






have fun.
  May 2015 Abidemi Alawiye
Speen Cough
The Smile worth more than a million words
The Eyes that seem to recite this verse
The Ears that hear no more disrespect
The Nose that crinkles like fresh pantyhose
She's no Mona Lisa, no Marilyn Monroe
She's not Farrah Fawcet, don't need golden globes
She's all I'll ever ask for, and oh so much more
She something spectacular, A daughter of God
Next page