"INKS OF TRUTH"

A dedication

For Soul Survivor

''~~~~~~
There's A City called Hello Poetry
And in this city,
Lives A Woman of many colours
A Poetess with a kind heart
A Poetess of Class
A Woman that loves to care for all
She's a kind soul
Meandering through this city,
She has a heart devoid of hate

* A Motherly nature
Always hoping everyone is well
Find this woman and
Appreciate her
For her heart is pure
And Soul too kind
Have you heard about Soul Survivor
Or call her Catherine Jarvis?
She is the woman
She is a Mother
A Mother of Hello poetry
Find her now and appreciate her*

Ovi Odiete©

Dedicated to Soul Survivor

Dear (Mr) God
I just want to thank you for
the heartiest chuckle I've
had in some time!!!

Pointing fingers is always
a funny thing. And, friend,
you just received the
Flying Fickle (middle) Finger of
Fate Award for the Millennium!

For those who don't know, here's what he/she stated.
He/she points fingers at me.
THREE POINT BACK.

1) I'M ******.
Who has hung his (her) shingle
out as GOD?. Doesn't take a shrink to figure this diagnosis.

2) I'm a Jesus FREAK. Seems to me
he/she (as Almond) contacted me via the site message system trying to start an argument with me (as a "Christian") with some pretty whacky ideas of His life while on earth. I blocked him (her).

3) My poetry is pointless. What, pray tell, is more pointless than a critic who can't WRITE?

Nuf said.

Your Che Guevara avatar is not out of place, however. What you don't
know is history. REAL history.

Che Guevara was a monster. He would stay in the home of his
peasant friends, then slaughter them all so that his wherabouts would remain undivulged.

You hide behind a false front, Almond. But it is appropriate.

I guess all I can do for you is forgive,
forget and PRAY.


SoulSurvivor

In response to @SoulSurvivor's "Books vs Men" poem...

I think women
should be more like books
Both you cannot judge....by looks

If  I didn't want to read on a certain day
I'd ignore it, and drink my worries away
...no feelings of our bond going astray

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you through the night
It will always open up to you...
or should I say open for you?

It's not obsessed with chocolate.
It won’t keep up the masquerade...
nor will it eat from your plate.

It doesn't seek approval...it doesn't weep.
It won’t complain about a toilet seat.

It doesn't expect me to remember, but it's intact..
if I always remember to watch sport

It doesn't always want to have the last say
It won’t sob when it gets too much...
and I decide to walk away


But it's not as beautiful.
It isn't warm-hearted.
In the kitchen it isn't skillful.
Its curves are not as creatively crafted.

Even though it does not fuss,
It can’t listen. It can’t discuss

Even thou it can look good,
it won’t blush when I give a compliment.
It won’t feel it when the weather is cold,
so I can make it smile by offering my jacket.


When I'm not there it won’t miss me.
When I see it again it can’t jump n kiss me.


So now that I think of it again...
...Book are just books, let them be.

Women are that part of us,
that was somehow removed from us
and we constantly have the desire,
to have them attached back to us.