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Salmabanu Hatim Dec 2018
I ate hot meals,
I brushed my teeth day and night,
I spent long hours on the mobile
with friends,
I wore well laundered clothings,
Not a single crease or a stain on them,
Before motherhood.
My home was ***** and span,
No stumbling on scattered toys,
No ***** window panes,
No tiny hands holding my skirts,
No one  eagerly waiting for me on the doorsteps,
No spits,pukes, pees or poos to clean,
No teared  eyes to wipe,
No tiny bundle to hold in my arms,
Getting love,warmth and satisfaction in return,
Before motherhood.
I was in control of myself,
Of my mind and thoughts,
Caretaker of my own body,
Spending hours to enhance my beauty,
To maintain grace and elegance,
Before motherhood.
Now I am a mum,
I don't mind if my hair is disheveled,
My house is a bit messy,
I am exhausted,
For the reward of a hug, a kiss
and those endearing words,"I
love you mum,you are the bestest." completes me.
I was about eight
and i could speak three
Nigerian languages,
especially pidgin.
Every sunday, i recall, my mother
would bless my stomach with nicely cooked native dishes.
Then, the Nigerian
football matches in the evening with my father was a sight too exhilarating to miss.

My school years was eventful
has i received a whole lot of flogging.
The only clothings i had
asides undergarments
were all native attires.
Some admired it, Others didnt.
I honestly was not bothered.

Now, i'm serving my country
in the army, which frankly is fulfilling for me.
No matter how bad Nigeria gets,
i'll always be proud of it.
Write a few lines,
you've gotta be proud of your country
Valentine Mbagu Jul 2013
In the multitude of counsellors; safety abounds,
But
ln the multitude of enemies as counsellors;
deceit abounds.
Counsellors whose heart studieth destruction with lips uttering mischief;
Enemies clothed with sheep clothings as friends;
Friends whose tongues uttereth words born in deception.
Counsellors whose mouth darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge;
Enemies made counsellors whose looks appeareth friendly,
Friends whose mouth draweth iniquity by cords of vanity.
Counsellors who utter counsels coated in corruption,
Friends whose mouth worseneth counsel by words without wisdom;
Enemies whose heart pondereth in destruction.
Counsellors whose counsel are coiled in deception,
Friends who by multitudes of words cause you to err;
Enemies whose mouth captivate tender hearts.
Counsellors whose counsel destroy the paths of relationships,
Friends whose conceit counsel to death;
Enemies being enslaved seek to enslave others.
Believe not every counsel neither inculcate every word,
........... They destroy the heart..........
Believe not every friend neither heed to multitudes of words,
........... They enslave the soul............
Believe not every counsellor neither seek counsels from multitudes;
.......... They captive the mind...........
Which counsel shall we inculcate?
Which counsellors shall we believe?
Which counsellors shall we seek?
Inculcate counsels proved by love,
Believe counsellors whose counsel are weighed by truth and peace;
Seek counsellors whose counsel are words of life.
Who shall our counsellors be?
Let counsellors who are genuine and experienced be our guide;
Let counsellors who are higher and honest be our refuge.
Hope you find counsellors whose counsels are candid;
for
lt takes honest counsellors to ensure your safety.
Gods1son Feb 2019
My black is beautiful
And there is nothing in me that is evil
My black is not synonymous to darkness
Look into my blackness and behold brightness

I have an unwavering consciousness of who I am
Self-aware of my innate abilities
I belong in a line of dynasties
Regardless of my height, I stand tall

No matter what they see through their lenses
I am a description of what excellence is
I don't crack
I lead the way, I create the tracks

I'm not from a dark world
I'm illumination in this shady world
Solution I am, dissolving any problem
I'm unstoppable... Greatness is my emblem

Opinions don't move me
I cruise my own boat
I love good clothings but
Melanin is my favorite coat

I'm a seed of greatness
And that's what I'm going to sow
My heart is clean and pure like the snow
Yes I'm black, if I come to this life again, it shall be so
neth jones Mar 2021
PDA
fingers surveying
prints scuttle
             and
                  rill
; surface tips over dermis
shopping for a grip
a private tuck
or a filled skin to cup
warm and flushed bodies
digits cramming        
                   under bodied clothings
with senses entire    
               in this distraction
heed is ceded
of public location
and the approach of the authorities
with toys                  
uniform
                       and ammunition
Karijinbba Jul 2021
Like ugly ducklings to lovely
Swans transformed we are.
I remember thine breath of life blowing in labellum.
Stunt by your hunger for me
In shivers silence stuck
the dagger in heart
mine and thine, beloved.

In vain I sought you I
Roamed the open seas with cowards ****** greedy racist human predators
In sheep's clothings.
Two forces of good and evil hubbered above my cradle

To get here powers of evil
took everything and I lost everyone dear to me
even my honor just to reach thine forces of good
I'd surrender to you if worth anything to you take it all
for treasures in my hands

without fortress if your love
slides like water in hands
I find thee everywhere in famous art even in
crossroad lights
I found thee in sonnet 75
with William Shakespeare.

Thine grace showered me with wisdom and thine thirsting for me became my own longing for thee
decades now my beloved

I search no more for thine love tattooed all over my vessel peacefully rests
No one but us two can see it.

You reign butterfly in heart
few lovers have eyed me
yet quickly eluded me
  they too, like your butterfly,
Go in search of their own.

Yes only yours returned
Adorned with diamonds and rubbies calling me fiancee.

I painted two on my chest
To never be apart
I love thee the most
forever and ever.
~~~~~~
By Karijinbba
All Rights Reserved
Sonnet, 75-95- present
True story an ET from another world designed two identical  rubbie and diamond butterflies
Just for me as an engay gement gift .Rdd/BbA
Craig Reynolds Jun 2010
you always come home with this armor
like your hiding this great big jug of happiness in there.
is this image of her a one sided mirror?
or her bed time clothings reflection?
cutting out the curves, leaving only the armor

and these shaking words
'explain yourself! your eyes
are dull they must
glimmer for someone else!'

you are a shell within a shell
a self-sufficient snail
judging by the oxygen packs
strapped on your back
you're too good for this pollution
turning her lungs a midnight black

and you wear it well
a chest with no heartbeats
only clicks and beeps
absent minded
messages home
to the mothership

but she can see through you,
'just be gone like a demon
back to Nibiru.
circle the sun. your path
now altered in degrees.
but from your caustic debris,
your persisting memory,
still orbits me as a moon,
making me drunk and dizzy.
so still i must insist you leave me.'

and so you do
with your jug of happiness
successfully guarded
still intact
you are a fortress
a dam holding back
the ravenous waters
you cant share
with the indigenous people
here
your head floating
up in the
atmosphere
an unfamilar creature
safe inside the walls
of your space suit armor.
Copyright 2010
Sally A Bayan Feb 2016
| / / | \ | \ \ | \
/ // / | \ | \ | / |
/  / / \ \ \ | / / \

Storm is gone
and all hypes  have settled down
i go straight to that one place
for that much awaited
cleansing...............and freedom
i strip myself of clothings
on the surface
and those underneath my skin...

Under the shower
i am bare
as a newborn babe.  
sighing....as i surrender myself
to the trickles of water sliding
                                            down
                                                   my
                                                         body...
I turn around once...
                              twice...
                         ­           thrice,
                                            to spray the wetness
                                                     all over me...
...i turn the **** gently....for more water
...close my eyes  
...as countless thin drops flow out, touch my head,
                                                           ­     i let them trace
                                                           ­             the countours
                                                       ­                          of my face...
Mouth opens a bit
i drink in some...to quench my thirst
let go of some...and retain the rest
be overcome by the coolness of the tap water,
.....take time to reflect...to ponder...
....while wet eyes give way to sniffles
....blending with those refreshing trickles,
...........erasing muddy stains of fear
...................and dried marks of tears
................sighs, of fatigue...and regret
.............these, i most often neglect...
.....under the shower, they'd be quashed
..........i'd let them all be awash
......................save for my personal friends,
..........like grit........and good ole common sense.

As water saturates my whole being
...a few expectations and dreams
..........go down the drain
.......while others.....stay
........and dwell within.

Some feelings just cannot hide
...some, refuse to surface, and stay buried deep inside.


Sally

Copyright October 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
^^^written after the heavy rains in October of 2015^^^
Karijinbba Jul 2019
few people
who tell me to forget
about the past
just fail to understand
that sometimes past
doesn't forget me

They fail to realize that
one is still in the battlefield
dodging bullets surviving attempted ******
my war is still ungoing
but as always chances are
I survive like I often do
by unseen forces
its a cruel ancestral
karmic war
that must be paid
no one is immune to it

no matter how prosperous waiges of sin generating good and bad Karma are unstapable
ask me I've lived it in the flesh

wining or losing
doesn't matter too much
it doesn't depend
on the self alone

One has to experience
cause and effect
of all actions and inactions
perhaps generational
values apply here
must perform my deed
suffer their bad karma

what can I as a recipient
do but endure

please don't say to soldier me
in this battlefield hell of mine
"forget the past! look forward!"
"Don't look back,
you'll crash and die!"

my forward might be more
of the same battlefield
****** neverending
generational type war
unprovoqued covert enemies
 ever popping up
like agents in my Matrix did

unexpectedly
using different names
covert culprit Terminator One others wearing masks
hungry wolves
some in sheeps clothings
others smiling snakes
in my fallen paradise
many have fallen though
by my side and something
out there from beyond spares me
the people of God shall taste poison and it won't harm
the Lord upholds me and I wait patiently safe
heaven is within me.
so much emvy jealousy
misunderstanding
malice greed

all around where i reside
Sharina Saad Aug 2014
He stood there
looking so aloof
Claim himself a warrior
Protector of peace

He stood there
looking so aloof
Bragging to the world
I help the poor

He stood there
Looking so aloof
Cheating the whole world
Wearing sheep's clothings..

He stood there
Oh please....
Let the world know
He is the wolf
in sheep's clothing...
Aishatu Sali Feb 2021
Mannerless child!
Shameless child!
Arrogant child!
You lack home training.
Your parents must be bad.

Please don't fault my parents
I was raised well.

I was raised to greet my elders and address them with respect.
Just because I walked pass you at the mall, doesn't mean my parents are to be blamed,
If my parents found out I will be scolded.

I was raised to say "please" whenever I seek for a favour and to say "thank you" as a sign of appreciation,
Just because I didn't utter any,
Doesn't mean my parents lack gratitude,
If my parents found out, they will never gift me.

I was raised to wear decent clothings and be moral in my actions and behaviours,
Just because I wore a skimpy outfit,
Dosent mean my parents bought them,
If my parents found out, they will burn them to ashes.

I was raised to be humble and have patience,
Just because you saw me cursing and fighting on the street,
Doesn't mean my parent encourages it,
If my parents found out I will be grounded.

I was raised to be generous, to love and care without expectations,
Just because I'm indifferent,
Doesn't mean my parents are heartless,
If they found out they will be disappointed.

I was raised to study and be successful in life,
Just because I'm a school drop out,
Doesn't mean my parent never paid my fees,
If they found out they will be angry.

I was raised to always go to church or the mosques,
To visit relatives and friends,
Just because you saw me at the beer palour
Smoking and wasting myself,
Doesn't mean my parents ordained it,
If they found out, the next day might be my funeral.

So please don't fault my parent.
I was raised well.
~boddobodes

---------------------------------
Often times we blame parents for the immorality and unworthy behaviour of there ward/children but it is not always the fault of the parents. You can give birth to a child but not their attitude or behaviour, some children are influenced by peer pressure and society.
Mi Dec 2013
I get confused when
People discuss love as if
It's a vague word
But no it's so much more
Love was portrayed wrong
In fairytales because they introduced
Love at first sight
But didn't emphasize that love isn't about looks
Sometimes the evil villain
Could be the one with the pretty face
Or the one with the white horse
Whereas Prince Charming
Could be a pauper
Who has to work for a living and perspires a lot
He could be clad in not-so-fancy clothings
Then again,that's only one aspect of love
There could be siblings love
There could be passion
Also faith .
I witness love first hand,
when people pray
when a person gobbles up their food
Without showing off on social media
When a pair of old couple uses sign language to
Understand each other.
Love isn't so simple
It's weird and complicated but
One day, I want to have my own love story,
A little but less than a Fairytale.
Chloe M Teng May 2015
Our life a canvas
Renaissance of emptiness & bare
Waiting in wanting of a change
Of colours & sketches to wear

Our acrylic a creation
Clothings of words & expressions
Replenishes the canvas in colours
In boundless strokes of desires & justice

Our paintbrush the world
A place so tiny yet so vast
with people in shades of rainbows
A true necessity in life

We are the painters
Our dexterity a masterpiece
The one that the canvas relies on
The master of our own paintings

*We are Picasso
"Life as though it were an art."
Samuels Jedidiah Aug 2016
I could write a million words about a failed family
Tons of poetry could be composed
Describing the hurt
Telling the challenges
Explaining life growing up in an environment where the enemy is your family

This however ain't that Poetry
It's me writting about a lovely childhood
The waves of bar beach
Parents laughter with love in their eyes
Esther scared of the horses and typically every animal or insect
The burial events we organised for our rats
Shifted responsibilities in the midnight hours
Dad always making my recipe for my daily bed-wetting

The journeys to new states
Mom's baking
Mom's absence
******* movies we had access to
Mom's presence being like Santa's coming
Many starvations

The candy i asked from Dad after 1yr of separation
Dad's smile weak and tainted by sad wrinkles
The wolves in sheep clothings
How they took advantage

Karma stricking; yeah it goes round
Loosing the family again
Brutality enforced by siblings
Hatred deeply enrooted

Life's too much of a *****
Try as you may:the worst memories are ever so glaring
Being oblivious to the obvious truth: thats the escape route

To hell with forgiveness
To hell with rising above
To hell with fantasies
My demons made me fabulous.
SH Jan 2012
some sit silently.
soaking in the sounds of bells.
acknowledging it.

others, teary-eyed,
watching a bad year subside
into better years.

another, smiling
eyes ablaze with fireworks
of the bright past year.

ev'ryone with pens
and smudgy resolutions,
mapping their future.

buildings shed clothings.
sheets, curtains change like seasons.
posters, promotions.

and it seems:

flipping calendars
unfathomably transform
us happy creatures.

me? if ev'ry day
can be seen as a new year:
oh, happy planet!
A haiku for the new year. Many people look towards the new year as if it should herald in some change - hence they pen resolutions, set new goals, get new looks. If everyone could be so suddenly energised and hopeful for each and every day!
Allan Mzyece Jul 2016
Flying round and round
with her broken wings
she attracts my ***** eyes

She denied that lovely guy
now a monster walks in his shoes
As she regrets that stupid move
he becomes the unknown
Love me; Sweet Angel Love me!!!
Fix my broken heart and find happiness!!!
Love me; Sweet Angel Love me!!!
Bite my lips and take me abliss!!!
She sees something's wrong with him but plays the silent game
he has become a shame; cause no angel wants to save his soul from the beast that dwells inside
he begins to: ****, **** and steal
after he has done all that he cries himself to sleep
Legend has it, that he is the wolf in clothings of a sheep
Love me; Sweet Angel ******* Love me!!!
she flies up with her broken wings
He calls for her as he is being scolded by earthly kings
Angel!!! Angel!!! Save Me!!!
fix my Broken heart!
before i rip my family apart!
She meets him
He looks straight in her big brown eyes
Falls to the ground says
"Natalie i loved you"
and then he finally dies
Admiration
our likes and tastes are quite different, ladies loving ****** and other die-hards for gents. Men for thigh exposure and others for descence, though all for a reason. We fancy scents, clothings, height, rides, the wallet size and most definitely the LOOKS, before all is gone some sense. Everyone needs a person to look up to for inspiration, in work, sociality, design and so forth. It costs you nothing to admire positively, many there look Upto you though you don't know, just keep it up-take yourself very important, for it's the beginning of hope for others that believe in you. Not necessary to forge a life #be you #be real.
iffahnabilah Jan 2015
When i'm gone,
i'd have removed all traces of myself.
You won't smell the stench of my odour lingering, always waiting,
you'll smell the scent of my dead body.
And none of you,
not a single soul,
shall shed a tear for me.
When i'm gone,
all my intentions and hopes
will scatter and bleed
along with my body.
And none of you,
not a single soul,
will resolve matters with me.
And that is ******* fine,
because when i'm still alive,
nothing is right either.
When i'm gone,
there won't be my clothings for you to hug to sleep,
or a single belonging of mine to put you in place.
Only then,
everything i've done for all of you,
all of my
hidden intentions and obvious indirects,
will be of your understanding.
soon.

(FAH)
Enemies of humanity
Humanly clothed
Roaring lions in sheep clothings
They are demons amidst angels

   Enemies of humanity

They are traitors in our territories
Which we do not know of
They enjoy the delicacies of our meals
Lay on same bed with us  

  They are enemies of humanity

In their arms we're ensnared
In our own town we're held prisoners
At their scenes of play:
  we mourn our siblings
  our fathers yell in grieves
  our mothers weep in deep sorrows
    
   they are enemies of humanity
They are the children of our yesterday
left miserably in the arms of vulnerability
They are the nightmares we've known in our sleeps

They are the monsters we created with our hands
The graves we dug for ourselves

Our rhythm will beat
woefully
we will know no rest until
we treat the messes of our yesterday!
Trefild Sep 24
he wakes up to the sight of her donning back her clothings
"what a happy moment"
he thinks, then, taking a good look A̲t her, notes in
his mind: "hell, this lass is smoking"
[smoking hot]
like a barrel of a gat unloaded
she, having noticed that her inamorato's woken
up, gives him a salutation: "sweet morning!"
she sA̲Y̲s she was going to wA̲ke him up were he
in dreamland by the time she would
have been set to tA̲ke off; "I'm sorry"
she continues, - "but I need to
get to my place; I..."; "hold O̲[ɑ]n, if you"
he interrupts her, - "have 5 plus mins to
have a convo, I'd like to say some-thing to
you; she replies: "I ain't in a rush, mate
so, yeah, I'll give you
an ear", like a side space on a gazette's front page
as he gets himself decent, he strikes
up speaking his mind:
"in this existence of mine, it's the first time
I'm feeling alive, & I'd be dE̲moralized
knowing our encounter's ju[ɪ]st a one-time
thing; you're pretty as a pI̲n-up & nice in disposition, & I'd
like to know you more
there's already something in which we're alike
music types we both prefer
are similar, right?"; she nods her bean in reply
he continues: "I could teach you to write
multisyllable rhymes, which is, besides
music liste[—]ning, what I get myself occupied
with I̲n my off time; I could gift you a bike
I mean, a pushbike, so, you & mE̲, we could ride
together, just like Slim & 5'9"
["write together"; Eminem & Royce da 5'9"]
[who have a bunch of rap collabs with each other]
and if you
like some activity I'm
a stranger to
I'd bE̲ by your side
do I have chances to
meet you agA̲I̲n some next time?"
————————————————————————————————
she replies: "wow! I'll give my answer to
your query, but, like
you, now I feel like venting my mind"
"of course, I̲t's only right"
if you too say what you think", - he replies
she asks him I̲f she is right
thinking that, till last nI̲ght spent with her
he's never had something li̲ke this before
clearly implying that that tI̲me's been his first
it feels wrong to him to lie to this girl, but replying to her
query directly ain't more comfo[—]rtable for
him; he gets out, like a crI̲me figure served
his time, with a reply that his per—sonality type's introvert
somewhat surprised bY̲ what she's heard
she notes: "in that nI̲ght club you sure
didn't seem like O̲ne, you seemed
quite co[ɑ]nfident"; "sorry if whA̲[ʌ]t I'm in—
—tending to say is a ******, sim.
to a bad trip, but my condU̲ct was in—fluenced by a supplement"
he replies, adding: "but you can be cA̲[ɑ]lm; I mean
in terms of indulging in
substance consumption, I'm no fiend
unlike a leader of a tough regime
that was just a O̲ne-time thing"
"well, that's what matters, becau[ʌ]se, akin
to you", - she says, - "I'm for sticking to the so-ber track"
————————————————————————————————
she continues her go by add—
—ing: "now, I want you... to know: I've had
a magnificent night; I thI̲nk that's a kind
of thing we both needed"; the guy
nods, thinking: "I̲t's something I cA̲[ɛ]nnot deny"
she continues by noting to hI̲m that, despite
that scene in the night
club that he made
like that game where the MC̲ undermines
a corrupted *****'s reign
just 'cause... hE̲ didn't like
["Just Cause" videogame series]
the stuff the DJ
was playing, hE̲ doesn't strike
her as a ***** of a guy; she adds that she twigs what it's like
to be by oneself & that being a psy—
—chotherapist, as she unfolds herself
to him, her job's providing harmed souls with help
he thinks: "this can't be real", like cold in hell
then he says: "you're... a therapist?"; "right"
she quickly replies, adding: "you seem really surprised"
he says: "wE̲ll, doc, if I
were to guess wha[ʌ]t a girl with such a curb
appE̲A̲l does in life, I'd think it's some-thing that prescribes
being pleasing to eyes"
then he adds: "speaking of whI̲ch, these remind
me of a smile: you've got this green in your eyes"
["grin"]
as she gives him a slight
smile, she thinks in her mind:
"is he really so sweet, or hE̲ simply tries
to increase his odds wI̲th me?"; "alright"
the gal breaks the silence
being 'bout to say something else, but the guy
manages to outpace her timing
saying: "since you a psy—
—chotherapist, guess it won't hurt if I say that I̲ am
somewhat sick & even evil inside
but to you, I'm a null danger, darling
so stay composed, like a
tune"; slightly smiling, she says: "you're droll; now ta
your question posed prior: yes, I'm bone down ta
meet with you again"; she gives her phone number
to him, then it hits her: "I still don't know how ta
call him"; she asks: "by the way
you've go[ɑ]t a name?"; he replies: "mine is Blake
and yours?"; she replies: "Lucille"
with a joke on his mind, he says
"well, that pretty much explains why you babe
are so mind-blowing"; stumped, she says:
"sorry, but I don't think I grasp
what you mean by that"; he says: "the Negan's bat"
after which she gives a gentle laugh
[the scene where Negan gets the Glen's brains [mind] blown out with his bat called "Lucille"]
then says: "I'd jest why
I feel like HA̲rley Quin, but I think
that, by this time
you've already cO̲[ɑ]ttoned on wha[ʌ]t I mean"
he says: "an adorable therapist
who've met a sort of odd E̲gg who seems
to be a joker"; afrE̲sh, she gives
him a slight smile; "well, dolcezza, it's
["dolcezza" (Italian) - "honey"/"sweetheart"]
been nice to have a chat
with you", - she starts her response, whereafter adds:
"A̲lthough, A̲s I have
said prior, I need to go"; "wA̲I̲t just a bit"
he says, - "I'll call a taxi cab"
"by the wA̲Y̲, it's on me"
he adds while he grabs some cash
then hands it to her like: "as a sign of favor; no re—
—jections accepted"; she replies: "um, thA̲[ɛ]nks, it's so sweet
of you, much appreciated; feel free
to hit me up later so we
could pick time & location to meet
the next time"; both exchA̲nge "byes" with each
other, then, taking into consideration that he's
awful at osculating, she gives
him one aimed for his cheek; a blush-making thing hits
his mind, saying he'll need
her to provide him some training in this
kind of stuff; as she walks away, he can't help but gaze at this chick
"a night out rhyme tale, part III" by TREF1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)

"a night out rhyme tale, part II":
hellopoetry.com/poem/4883683

"a night out rhyme tale, part I":
hellopoetry.com/poem/4708772
Daiene Oct 2018
Colossal violence revels in the midst of hostility
Ingenius methods of hipocrisy roams our land
Dressed in superior clothings of mighty brands.

Nihilistic approaches for humanity's growth
Thats how things are done
As the blood red luminant shadows of the crescent moon strucked the heart of masochistic reapers of youthful innocence.

The bitterness of peace and joy did not satiate the evil's hoggish needs
So with their monstrous jaws and claws they haunted everything that screams life and hope
Until all of the land was left with little to no resemblance of what it was before
For now, the little town for which kids seek toys to play
And where adults find palpable joy in the simplicity of their humble abodes
Is now nothing but a mere reminder of how that ghost town was

Where the ugly stench of death and prejudicial entities of mankind lodges.
SURETICE TONGUE Jan 2021
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IRRESPECTIVE OF ECHO

SAMUEL DAVID <believingvirtue@gmail.com>
Tue, Oct 20, 2020, 2:47 AM
to drmikemurdock

Hi in the existing pursuits,  beyond the reigning of induction

Galore triumphing in the dreaming unannounced  the altar  of praises- stepping

Ideologies its embark in the Presbyterian  floating by the hitherto  to flaring

Quarrysflying  cloudensation only reflamed  its tasking the unparalleled  to its summon of loyalty  treasury in the unfathable uproarings-replenishing  craven

Roof  in rejoining yonder  by the black indigeneous  flaring pursuits by thye hitherto  aqbthem  injh the inhabitant sown  into  metaphysical  refilled the priviledge  to  surmountable  of  repositioning  reclaps  in the photostream

Cooking inches to  irrespective of echoes , paramount  so deeply  troops stirring

The potentiary eyebrows in the vigorously  pillar beyond  the quarrysflying

Took  the virtues by the arguably  uproaring zests /  uproaring  in the  parachronically  stardom  ofd subtly virtues so intellectual proofing  in the

Soiling clothings , paqttern the rejoining  into praying knees in  the

Blueprints ideal  cracking by the idioning  strawl pertches to presiding wealth

Of  weathering  stoodly vasts of flaring in the glories of orchard...’ in the over immovable  oneness  raqve injh the greatness of implementation  so fulcrum  of pointing  glory of galories…’ in the  wrist of eternitry  in the  unequalledled  of changing tide prophecy  of photostreaqm nof black inh the desk of knowledge

Al;tering in the sonship to eternity column…’

Triumphing in the  echo of  surmantable.



Your  conquering  absurd,



Samuel Churchill Omale

Wrist  Of Eternity Rejoining

www.hellopoetry.com/SPEAR­­_LEGACY

+2348131914240
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Dec 2019
Some people love only a
particular kind of face, only
a certain color of skin, only
a distinctive accent in another’s
voice, only a spelling of a
last name like their own.
They probably prefer a blank
canvass to one of Picasso’s.
They need no eyes, not even
a heart:  bigotry blinds their
sight;  the suffering of others
they do not feel or see;  their
soul is dark and sick. I prefer
different faces, eyes as blue
as robins’ eggs, brown or black
as Mother Earth from which we
all come. Show me different
dances, different clothings,
different customs. Teach me
of the variegated ways so
many others live and fall in
love, making babies of skin
colors, one different from the
others, but all crying for mother’s
milk like infant members of a
Greek chorus. We need a
deus ex machina to turn
racism into the rhapsody
of love.
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He just finished his first novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
Mark Nov 2019
My furry coated fluff-ball does so bark
As tho' by each a roar is pleasure met
Not via song nor tones of sweetest lark
But in such voice that my acusstoms let,
Why do I choose to burden my own ears?
And glue to clothings; sticky canine fur,
To then have soaked saliva's ridden tears
About my cheek with enthusiasm's spur!
I witness disregard for leather's couch
Complete with shear disdain for carpet floors
And horrid shoey murders by a grouch
With innocence of eyes upon all fours!

But with such pain now I divulge by heart:
Without such farce, would I be torn apart!
Aditya Roy Feb 2020
To drink
Or not to drink
It is a question of taste
A pleasant cuppa
For a song of the sailor
Rhymes on the table
Reflections on forever
I know your love has no measure
Beyond the jealousy I watch from that eye
Is it he that walks by in starry skies
All of these are uncertain
Like my job at Wigan Pier
Will you send me something for earthly me
A student for policing
Or an apprentice for teaching
I have done my duty poorly
As a father figure
At least as malice doth give us
We could cherish the chalice
From the bottom of the drowning sorrows
I had given it my all
It was a well-fashioned foot soldier
In a daring hermit's costume
I died with clothings and old age, fulminating till my last breath
Now that the Orient knows we’re here
The Superpowers came to trade their stuff so dear…

First were entrepreneurs of the Red Giant
Meaty foods, fine clothings, housewares so elegant
Second were adventurers of the Sub-Continent
Strange gems, music & language here they sent
Third were missionaries of the Cradle of Islam
Believers of this system to Allah come

…These Chinese, Indians & Arabs our ancestors befriended
Their influence upon us never goes depleted!

-09/11/2015
(Dumarao)
*Philippine History Rhyme Collection
My Poem No. 377

— The End —