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"folklores" poems
....the way she walks and the way she talks She is the fairest of folklores She drains me of words And drowns me in thoughts She is the reason I smile Even amidst a milli reasons to cry; The magic mat on which I fly Deep into the fluffy clouds of fantasy Where only she and I will be, Watching our lives unfold like a golden scroll Living every day as it comes......
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
She (spoken word poem)
I like black color and paper boats, elderly people, old homes, month of November, broken dreams, sad stories and deep silence after them... I like my childhood, honest friends, my bag and old pen, recess at school, old playground and games that time has played with us... I like the food cooked by my grandmother, cups of tea, pet parrots and the cat, mischievous things which were easy to be forgiven by everyone... My hometown and its old railway station, the whispered voice, your laughter, storytellers, folklores and true characters hidden in them... I like these yellow leaves decorating old trees, snowflakes, my old diaries, your old letters, my old scarf, small babies, poetry books and rhymes in them... The old sky and stars which used to come to see you shining, rainy season, the cold Beijing and its winter nights, Tsinghua Campus... I love them all...
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC
Nostalgia
Of splendid thrones of gold   or treasures manifold      Of jewelled caskets   or lavish banquets      Of Emirs and rajahs   Of Sultan and Shahs      Of kings and queens   Of rulers and emperors      Of sparkling crowns   or flowing gowns      Of their subservient stewards and obedient pages   Of their stalwart squires and servile knaves      Of poor humble, docile minions   who tended to regal pavilions   And obeisantly carried royal palanquins   Oh and some were real life harlequins      Of castles and palaces   of abounding gold and silver   in ostentatious regal splendour      The sidelined fanning maids in waiting   Yet to me only one thing worth noticing   The minstrels who came to sing   from afar for the queen and king      For I'd rather be a poetess for kings   so to my tunes swayed a kingdom   than I be the king of mere subjects   and be filled with regal boredom!      So I could join ranks of   troubadours   and sing for the king   some folklores.
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Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 3:37 AM UTC
The Royals vs the poet's realm
Why is that looking into the- Wide and open city so upsetting? I saw the bird, She was looking amongst the buildings, A space that was hers Or maybe the space- Her ancestors have told her, The folklores and many songs- Written on the very space. She crossed mountains, Seas and barren lands To see the city lights and The many dreams she had. She is not homesick, She doesn’t even have a memory Of her home-land It is a long lost dream Which cannot be recollected. She’s homeless. Was she looking for a mirage In between the tall buildings - ‘They’ said where dreams prosper? It’s a furnace, The colours of fire she could see, The shadow painted colours- Orange, red and grey and Still it required meaning? I’m looking for it too! I am scared of forgetting, Old age and Alzheimers I’m a dreamer, a homeless hippie But there is a root, a deep root A scent, a strong scent and A soul that is sometimes homesick. I’m a coward, a bold faced, masked dancer But there is no rhythm, no audience It’s just silence, dull grey stillness! These buildings scare me, where is it? Where is my chariot? I cannot follow the crowd They have a home, a meaningful home They like the cement, the black air And bundles of printed paper. They stamped me mad. Am i? Maybe I am. Hey bird, I’m not responsible- For your destiny, look, look Look at my hands, there is no blood Look, look carefully, there is no stain But I belong to the race, I belong to The same age, the same world That changed your fate! I've no redemption from my sins! I've no redemption from my sins!
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
Confessions of a Coward
Why is that looking into the- Wide and open city so upsetting? I saw the bird, She was looking amongst the buildings, A space that was hers Or maybe the space- Her ancestors have told her, The folklores and many songs- Written on the very space. She crossed mountains, Seas and barren lands To see the city lights and The many dreams she had. She is not homesick, She doesn’t even have a memory Of her home-land It is a long lost dream Which cannot be recollected. She’s homeless. Was she looking for a mirage In between the tall buildings - ‘They’ said where dreams prosper? It’s a furnace, The colours of fire she could see, The shadow painted colours- Orange, red and grey and Still it required meaning? I’m looking for it too! I am scared of forgetting, Old age and Alzheimers I’m a dreamer, a homeless hippie But there is a root, a deep root A scent, a strong scent and A soul that is sometimes homesick. I’m a coward, a bold faced, masked dancer But there is no rhythm, no audience It’s just silence, dull grey stillness! These buildings scare me, where is it? Where is my chariot? I cannot follow the crowd They have a home, a meaningful home They like the cement, the black air And bundles of printed paper. They stamped me mad. Am i? Maybe I am. Hey bird, I’m not responsible- For your destiny, look, look Look at my hands, there is no blood Look, look carefully, there is no stain But I belong to the race, I belong to The same age, the same world That changed your fate! I've no redemption from my sins! I've no redemption from my sins!
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54
*There’s hidden A precious pearl Eons have passed Mentioned in Various folklores Hushed tones Described the Unknown beauty Eyes have Not truly feasted On it yet Pearl of Wisdom Between the Hidden chambers Core of the Universe held secrets About the origin Many seers Have meditated For time immemorial The secret of beauty Love and wisdom Soul’s eternity Thus birthed the Universe from this Hidden beauty Many seers will Meditate eternally At the confluence of time In deep trance Shall try to delve Deeper into the core And be one with The Universe*
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:32 AM UTC
Till Eternity
Time.. slipping from the parapets a rorschach night laid out below If mine is but a little while then yours is not for me to know so, glittering away, we leapt from all convention disavowed restoring golden folklores with our whispering of owls
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Nov 4, 2023
Nov 4, 2023 at 4:38 PM UTC
Hush-Wing
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 10:31 AM UTC
*****So Gone A Paradise******
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
Continue reading...
22
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 7:46 PM UTC
*************So Gone A Paradise************
Of what lies the fate of being One? The aspirations of a paradise fast forgone. Peers that flux to tame tide. Dreams of Heroes they far together glide. Morrows they lived to prosper in love. Affections that glow, no one needs to plough. Rustic although was dark. ***** although civilisation was lack. Yet! Still yet!!! The bluntness of the spear cuts through many hearts. Her invincible hand drops inventions of it kind to dirts. A long journey into the wood is what draws nearer. Moonlight folklores, dominating smell of affection in d air. Hopefulness of hopeless tomorrow’s meal a Dear. Sounds of the storm, through pavorated doors, roofs left ajar. The storm of life rages to scatter the sands. Erosion into throats wanders fleshes into pounds. Everyone, many one, all one soughts to touch what brains now serve as it grows. Big houses, bigger pockets, a good life as it goes. Exodus of now, without a Moses of now into a promised land that Joshua never belonged. Pillars of light, Amalekites in all ways with many Yawehs. Now! All is touched, many is known except a paradise that used to be. Crowds are made, Banks now a pocket, and so are Devils that flux as Bee. Nostalgia haunts like nightmare. Ways back summons with all lyrics. All ways looks like that fare. Heart longs, threatens to pieces. I set back to trace all tunnels. All tunnels that lead to paradise far forgone. A Granny that gets all into her without funnel. An uncle that treats all for one. Journey that used to b an epic now concave. Rural that reminds paradise now like the hell forgone. All I long to see now gone with the wave. Things are no more the way it used to be while we were one.
Continue reading...
22
I know of a mysterious being, Dressed in suits, but bestowed with ancient voices. I know of a magician, A supernatural astounder, who performs in hearts of men. . I know of a trickster, Whose tricks surpass that of tortoise in folklores And whose dark long hat is made with anguish. I know of a sorcerer, who performs in hearts of men. . He, who gives without notifying hesitation, Comes to take with without invitation . I know of a wizard, giver of caps but taker of heads And he lives in hearts of men . . Of a riddler I know, Whose riddles creates chaos in minds of scholars. I know of a man, who visited me not long ago, A merchant of Venice looking for a land to sow. On his hand lies arrow and bow Ready to shoot into the dearest of hearts Saying "am coming to you, to create my mark " And he lives only in the shadows . Balogun David Tolulope (Drunk poet) ©️2017
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Devil's playground
Walking on Frozen path Time stood still Leads the feet To known Destination Slippery proposition Silent screams Unsettling tales Wooden door Slammed years ago Tiny slit Does allow Some view Dingy rooms Thick cobwebs Frozen hearts Time lost trail Last visit In folklores On frozen path No soul Wants to return
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
On Frozen Path
Good will tames us from beasts to sheeps. A check to balance, to lull and please. The mind the instincts long instilled. Easily coaxed, compelled, confused. Singing folklores, lovely tunes. Humming mockery alluring runes. Days and years gone past in fire. Burnt bodies alive Killed? No. Sacrificed. Six thousand years we've stood in bliss. Molded by wisdom, civilized hypocrites. Ignorance trance masks blood-ridden terrors. What's leftover you see they say humanity. To me however, A hollow excuse.
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
In Blood We Trust
Half truths Creates whole pain Finish the story I'm curious I have nine lives I love folklores
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Untitled
Lead me to paradise to the place that exists in beautiful tales and folklores in fantasies and wild imaginations hitherto was only a wish I pray not you leave me here in a land of sadness and sorrow where the wind does not blow and the grass does not grow the stars have faded from view there's only light in the dark The sweet scent of savouring flowers songs of birds fill the air whistling winds soothe my ear the trees talk to each other like a work of art everything is perfect and in order There I want to spend eternity waking up to an utter delight free from pain and worry surrounded by nature's finest of everything best and beautiful.
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
Utopia
Tears streaming down my face as volcanic emotions rupture the seams of this frail earthen vessel and as molten fears roll down hardened cheeks they remind me of broken cisterns trying to carry the burden of precious water to thirsty souls Tears streaming down my face flow from a place dark and cold beyond the surface smiles and feminine guiles lay a pain waiting to explode it’s been brewing for years and the threads of this patched soul can’t conceal these putrefying sores anymore And so they flow with the passion of rivers on a quest to find the shore seeking answers mystic as ancient folklores corroding tightly concealed dungeon doors waking painful dreams untold Yes these tears stream down my face and this time I’ll let them go let them flow upon diseased waters bringing purity and wholeness like HIS Blood that has saturated ***** sheets I'll let them caress this pain rain washing this soul clean I’ll let them remind me of where I’ve been my tendency to sin the hope i can only have in HIM I’ll lay myself upon HIS brazen altar pour these tears upon HIS throne Allow this cistern to be remade whole sweeping away the dust and the cold I’ll come home to that place of rest in YOU
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
Tears
The Stars are drowsy now So let me tell you two or perchance Two and more heroic folklores * Let Me tell you How my soul descends Amidst the Nile river and wend My way through the vallies As I scramble in the brambles searching for thorns to write on the wild emotions * Let Me tell you How sweet I ****** The blushing rose just for the milky lines and rhymes * Let Me tell you How I finds myself submerged in the oceans And drowning and drowning In my delusions and affections * Let Me tell you How I smile every mile I gets whiles I write And childishly engraves them in every word I fetch… To be cont…. ©Historian E.Lexano
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC
*Untitled*
i saw the sky like i've never seen it before, saw it wave like the one who walked out the door. i saw the sky but it was not the same as yours, mine had the shrieks and howls of my mother's old folklores.   i saw the sky and it seemed lovely, but appeared cowardice as she wailed, “will you hold me?” i saw the sky as the colors morphed into one with the hums of train life, the birds looked away to be shielded from the knife.  i saw the sky, but it looked quite like what’s lurking behind my eye.
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 7:02 PM UTC
The sky
He stands above the bridged weir, watching the sunlight striking the waterfall, where stream joins river, bright silver spray, subtle spectrum. Ripples exhaust their energy on the black glassy surface, obscuring the waiting menace pervading his dark imaginings. He's beyond its reach, sheltered by artifacts, though exposed in stillness to ghostly thoughts, cloaked in ancient folklores' clothes, savage rites, evil onslaughts.
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Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 10:21 AM UTC
Creeping Murmur