"earthquaking" poems
God knows how our neighbor managed to breed
His great sow:
Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid
In the same way
He kept the sow--impounded from public stare,
Prize ribbon and pig show.
But one dusk our questions commended us to a tour
Through his lantern-lit
Maze of barns to the lintel of the sunk sty door
To gape at it:
This was no rose-and-larkspurred china suckling
With a penny slot
For thrift children, nor dolt pig ripe for heckling,
About to be
Glorified for prime flesh and golden crackling
In a parsley halo;
Nor even one of the common barnyard sows,
Mire-smirched, blowzy,
Maunching thistle and knotweed on her snout-
cruise--
Bloat tun of milk
On the move, hedged by a litter of feat-foot ninnies
Shrilling her hulk
To halt for a swig at the pink teats. No. This vast
Brobdingnag bulk
Of a sow lounged belly-bedded on that black
compost,
Fat-rutted eyes
Dream-filmed. What a vision of ancient hoghood
must
Thus wholly engross
The great grandam!--our marvel blazoned a knight,
Helmed, in cuirass,
Unhorsed and shredded in the grove of combat
By a grisly-bristled
Boar, fabulous enough to straddle that sow's heat.
But our farmer whistled,
Then, with a jocular fist thwacked the barrel nape,
And the green-copse-castled
Pig hove, letting legend like dried mud drop,
Slowly, grunt
On grunt, up in the flickering light to shape
A monument
Prodigious in gluttonies as that hog whose want
Made lean Lent
Of kitchen slops and, stomaching no constraint,
Proceeded to swill
The seven troughed seas and every earthquaking
continent.
6.5k
Well I'm glad you asked.
I'm your next monumental task.
Call me Rufus because I'm about to make your empire crumble.
From my earthquaking hook, it will make the crowds rumble.
Float like a butterfly, hit like Tyson.
I got the strength of the All American Bison.
That left they say is “the kiss of death” please,
you haven't seen a real American breed.
A combo of the world's greatest.
My team is the smartest and latest.
What could you have to possibly show?
I’ll hit you with the jab high and low.
You’re skills of movement and power are ****
**** I can’t wait to make you cry and quit
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
Sound of a pen clattering
Admonishing beauty of arts rendering
Lines of rhyme rhyming
Mixed with rhythm rhythming
Like a poem life flowing
Like a drama life pushing
Like a prose life rushing
And then comes representing
Unrepentant life projectoring
The literati's lyrical lyricalling
Recalling the gods of writing
With written words calling
Calling calling calling coming
And hence societal ills hiding
Bad leaders, leadership running
Disillusioned souls troubling
Marginalised masses crying
And crime rate like jet flying
Bombs like pure water exploding
Politicians still stealing and looting yet fearing
Fear! phobia! fear embracing
Minimum wage hurting Governors like bee stinging
Unemployment destroying like earthquaking
Half baked graduate graduating
Our education unseriously provoking
Undefined boundaries exposing
Immigrants immigrating
Police, Soldiers, customs, Road safety, etc all corrupting like they feeding...
Inec election in chaos resulting
Nigeria a name of peoples's confusing
NEPA, WATER, ROAD, HOSPITAL unrealistic absurding...
Corruption! corrupting!! corruptioning!!! Are we starting or finishing? Building or destroying?
The lyric of the literati busy deconstructing...
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
In your little book of prayers you asked for something perfect.
A fairytale if you will, and though neither is probable,
fate and God put their hands together to work up a miracle,
leading you to a middle ground;
A gentle poet with an honest heart and subtle charm,
Just the way mother would like.
When he found you, you were already immersed into your novel,
But instinct urged you to lift your head up...
eyes met, a gaze was locked in place.
An earthquaking epiphany shook your insides,
Like a gear that had just been locked in its rightful place.
Color splashed in areas that were once gray.
You aren't much for love at first site,
However this was something deeper.
Like a cheap happy meal toy,
You were broken to begin with, vulnerable to affliction,
A heart overworn from lost love and regret,
You tug and pull at its frayed ends when you are bored,
Turning self mutilation into a unique form of art.
He noticed all of this.
He wished to know every detail that entailed your past,
hoping that someday when you're ready to let go,
He can take that pen in his hand
To rewrite it all out again
So that you may learn to forgive and forget.
Forgive and forget...
Forgive and forget...
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
It's the fourth of July 2019
bittersweet fireworks illuminating darkness
shockwaving my soul earthquaking this tower
at Richter scale 4.4 to 8
aftershock warning doomsday
feeling fullfilled revered cherished and adored
in dream modes alone
all this needed for balancing
the darkmess of ignorance
but how the poisoning past
profound loss defeat
in body and in heart
lifetime felloman injustices
loneliness abominable solitude
How to balance fate
ill karma bad luck regret
when dreams is all that remains
illuminated by the blast and
sorrowful bitter sweetness
of true July 4th
revered heartfelt fireworks
How? I'm telling you how
The joy and happiness
of all others is my own
My pain and suffering belongs to my enemies I am balanced
in the scales of injustice endured
forgiveness to grant
as others may ask
but most never do
In all this and lots virtues
more
thinking myself true
feeling myself whole
gracefully achieve I
Balance
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
Inspired by Poet Pagsn Paul's poem "Balance"
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 10:39 PM UTC
Always the same, in every night
Words stuck in my brain
I feel meaningless
With grievingness
A silent retreat in this
Forgottenness
The rottenness
A knife to jab into my wrists
The pointlessness
That I exist
Maybe it's cuz I'm a pessimist
I can't resist
The Devil's list
Or the urge to sink in the abyss
Well if it's true, I'm so worthless
Why can't I be blue?
Do I deserve to be hurting?
Constant self re-working
Shadows lurking
Thoughts are jerking
Evil sits inside me, smirking
Eyes averting
Words alerting
Save me from this dark converting
Self asserting
Random blurting
Worse than the ****** flirting
With my corrupt, thoughts perverting
It's clear I'm ****** up
But crying’s
Not dying
No matter how hard I'm trying
Horrifying
Re-wiring
Because my brain cells are frying
Clarifying
Not lying
Whether or not I'm implying
Defying
Denying
Is all that I'm supplying
The only crime, is, you stand by me
You're wasting your time
Mind won't stop racing
Or re-making
The challenges that I'm facing
Just shaking
Earthquaking
My anxiety displaying
Not praying
Or weighing
Any mistakes that I'm making
Soul fading
Creating
The sinful way I'm behaving
So every night, as I'm laying
It's these thoughts that bite
I'm meaningless
Self-loathingness
Magnifying my uselessness
A joyless
Black abyss
Wild ***** hungry for coitus
Yes, mindless
Undesignedness
Nothing to fill the vacantness
I'm voiceless
And pointless
…
It's these thoughts that's destroyed us
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 4:25 PM UTC
Let the wind be like
a horrendous hurricane
an earthquaking wave
of rebellious revolution.
Who has ever asked
her to blow only gentle?
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 2:21 PM UTC