#ak
not the same morning
not the same day
not the same me
something changed
everything changed
no me
whom you know
words lost meaning
wind lost its memory
time gone
life won
not sadness nor happiness
nothing left
For nothing
like the world became less
no me
no feeling
no hope
no dreaming
like the heart only beats
to pump
And nothing
like the eyes only open
to cry
And nothing
like memories are only
of bygone days
And nothing
like tears are only
the everyday games
And nothing
like the soul is only
to live out
And nothing
like
Nothing else….
-By
~AK Traveler.
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 12:59 AM UTC
Oh life!
Why, life, why?
I belong to her, but she doesn’t.
I love her – but can’t admit.
Why I love her?
Wrong question.
Why not?
Might be right.
Oh life,
Her eyes – dark sky filled with bright light,
Her smile – beautiful than heaven,
Her face – what to say…
I tried every language of this and after this world,
But now I conclude:
No tongue holds the word
To define her tenderness.
Her voice?
Nothing – just something
That heals
Each and everything
Within me.
Oh life!
What if I say
That you are the most beautiful
In both worlds –
That will be less.
In the lack of you,
My will still wish
To be with you?
Why?
Because…
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 1:10 AM UTC
As lick and
**** the AK
As if it where your
****
I hope you
Come up
And alive ready for my mouth and
*****
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC
Opening blinds to peer
Wondering how hard
Night fell and spelled out these stars
Those that don't know any better than
To copy your eyes
Just a spark in the dark galaxy
Sometimes I shoot the breeze
Hoping an officer's bullet won't hold me to
A permanent freeze
In the hour of despair
Where I haven't had a chance to clutch your soul
You have me under cardiac arrest
My heart in your possession
That gives us, at least, 5-to-10, mandatory
A fresh dew on the blades
Your hue next to my flesh
Springtime singing to us
As if we were growing on each other
Rose of Jericho when you revive my heart
From its tomb
From whence many nations came via your womb
A rose arose, aroused by the sun
You are the unread poem to an audience that craves the orator's tongue
A gift of gab to drab and dour arenas
I recite of you to hear my own self speak
To drug myself of nothings that ring so sweet.
Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 4:48 AM UTC
With this rain
I thee wed
Wet with aspirations
Downpour so thick upon the earth
It gives birth to creative hearts
Cutting and pasting promises broken in slips once notes passed in class
Now we prostrate
Gazing at glass dimensions
Daydreaming into moistened, nighttime-hued skies
Minutes from dusk
Consuming droplets like office coffee
Casually unfurling our tongues to catch a drip
Hoping to taste what it was like to be cooled down from old flames
This moonlight be the ring
Placed on the lace around your neck
Because your fingers don't need full metal jackets
With rocks like tax brackets
Besides, you're busy tracing our names encased in a heart in the stars
When the night crashes, and Venus visits Mars
But what does a wistful wanderer know?
Even as you depart
I'm trying to contain remnants of the zephyrs of your breath in mason jars like fireflies
As you call down for scattered heavy showers to follow your tempest trail left
Bathing in the heat of the night
Where there's trouble, wall-to-wall
Like Southern Mississippi or
Southeast Asia
Melodies of a river's croon or monsoon's boom, seasonally sweeping
Soaking my head
All of my worries are dead
I walk to your altar
In awe of your flora in the field of beauty
Amongst the springtime shadow of space
And swollen clouds
Receiving
Opening the heavens to sprinkle this bouquet
My poem, the precipitation
You request, I quench.
-
Ifeanyi N. Okoro II © 2018
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 3:01 AM UTC
it builds
it is built, by
layers of wind,
pressure so low,
ions of energy,
stacking, packing
waiting to attack,
with force and no recourse,
rain and hail, pale
in comparison, to
the spin without and within,
of the column, the pillar,
just add fire, and the ire
would be more obvious,
touching down, to the ground
where people construct dreams,
but there is no emotion in
the storm, but people,
those trying
to survive,
or revive their communities,
who are relying,
in the aftermath,
more than on memories,
splintered,
hands and hearts hang
on to one another,
for comfort,
for it is the only thing,
that makes sense after
all, the air tense with fury,
they restore,
they shore up
the courage and faith in humanity,
American quilt tested,
structures bested,
blow after blow,
yet the people remain,
lives lost, many in pain,
and they all share a refrain,
"we remain,
changed, yes, alone, not,
shared loss,
fortitude gained,
we remain, together as community"
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC