O ye who travel the meridian line,
May the vision of a new world within you shine.

May eyes that have lived with poverty's rage,
See through to the glory of the awakening age.

For we are all richly linked in hope,
Woven in history, like a mountain rope.

Together we can ascend to a new height,
Guided by our heart's clearest light.

When perceptions are changed there's much to gain,
A flowering of truth instead of pain.

There's more to a people than their poverty;
There's their work, wisdom, and creativity.

Along the line may our lives rhyme,
To make a loving harvest of space and time.
_
Source:
http://www.writespirit.net/blog/archive/2006/12/03/poemsben_okri

The purple stands strong,
My small but mighty rebellion.
I won't let anyone bully me,
Out of that which I love.
It is mine,
And you can't change me.

Face of the spring moon--
about twelve years old,
I'd say.

i looked deep inside my head.
i looked for all the memorys that made me wish i was dead.
the ones i chopped up and burned because i dread. the main ones that **** with my head.
i knew right there and then that a memory is all it was
theirs no if, then's, and because. its over. so why the fuzz.
So i let it go and the pain went away i became more confident this way. i stop running away from myself..so when i opened Pandora's box the demons came out but i think that's what its all about!

Stuck in a chimney
high above ground
A burglar called out
He couldn't go up nor down.

He'd stolen some money
and pilfered some clothes.
then, by way of egress,
up the chimney he rose.

But that move only works
with a suit of red Clothes
on one night a year
if you finger your nose.

He got stuck half way up
and he couldn't get down.
The fire Department
had to rescue this clown.

He'd broken in through a window
and jumped down to the floor
If only he'd thought
to go out the side door.

He was covered in soot
from his cap to his feet.
He's our Darwin Award
winner for this week!

I heard him exclaim
as they booked him that night
I sure am a dumb-***
( That at least he got right)

Shall I compare myself to a blob of glue,
For then my destiny’s to stick to you,
And our bond would harden with constancy,
So you’d have to love me,
Just you see.
:)

I wander through this clumsy mind,
Hither and thither, hoping to find -
What? Perhaps a thought, to pin
Upon a piece of paper, and then-
Questions? Answers? Puzzles? Truth?
Words to snare a lover? Food
For the soul? And yet, it seems
As I chase these paper dreams
They escape me, always out of reach.
For, though I try, I cannot leech
Upon myself. I must look elsewhere
For more solid ground, that will bear
These childish fantasies:
My castles in the air.

Knowledge has a purpose,
I need it for it sustains me,
Yet the more so called *knowledge I gain,
The less I seem to know.
I regurgitate facts,
But I don’t claim to understand them.
I thirst for answers,
But gain only questions.
The more I drink,
The more parched I become.

Who can help me?

I’m told by others to question,
With the promise of an answer.
I’ve yet to receive an answer.
Instead, I’m fed more questions,
But I already have those.
I’m thirsty not hungry.
I’ve gorged all my life,
Producing questions.
All I beg for is a drop,
A tiny speck of true knowledge.

My body
Insists that I
Never
Desert you.