"gateways" poems
I remember the history well:
The soldiers and politicians emerged
With briefcases and guns
And celebrations on city nights.
They scoured the mess
Reviewed our history
Saw the executions at dawn
Then signed with secret policemen
And decided something
Had to be done.
They scoured the mess
Resurrected old blue-prints
Of vicious times
Tracked the shapes of sinking cities
And learned at last
That nothing can be avoided
And so avoided everything.
I remember the history well.
2
We emerged from our ******* mounds
Discovered a view of the sky
As the air danced in heat.
Through the view of the city
In flames, we rewound times
Of executions at beaches.
Salt streamed down our brows.
Everywhere stagger victims of rigged elections
Monolithic accidents on hungry roads
The infinite web of ethnic politics
Power-dreams of fevered winds.
The nation was a map stitched
From the grabbing of future flesh
And became a rush through
Historical slime
3
We emerged on edge
Of time future
With bright fumes
From burning towers.
The fumes lit political rallies.
We started a war
Ended it
And dreamed about our chance.
Fat fish eat little fish
Big ones arrange executions
And armed robberies.
Our ******* shapes us all.
I remember the history well.
The tiger’s snarl is bought
In currencies of silence.
Eggs grow large:
A monstrous face is hatched.
On the edge of time future
I am a boy
With running sores
Of remember history
Watching the stitches widen
Waiting for the volcano’s laughter
In the fevered winds
Hearing the gnash
Of those who will join us
At the mighty gateways
With new blue-prints
With dew as seal
And fire as constant
And a trail through time past
To us
Who remember the history well.
We weave words on red
And sing on the edge of blue.
And with our nerves primed
We shall spin silk from *******
And frame time with our resolve.
________
Source:
http://www.universeofpoetry.org/nigeria.shtml
17.4k
Oh sleepless night why come tonight?
Curiosity lead me astray
Now sleepless night show me thine telescopic sight
Oh sleepless night why torment me?
Thou came at a strange time in life
Sensuality cover of my sanity
Oh sleepless night why hinder rest?
Youthful travels delay gateways
Yesterdays, break of day, spiritual decay
Oh sleepless night how do you rest?
Time passes yet you do not lay down
Sleepless night show thine sunday best among the rest
Envoi:
Thine heart shalt rest no more,
Find eternal peace by the shore.
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC
A young girl growing up
must always remember
her inner child.
Her inner child lies deep within
waiting to come out and play
help her shed her grown-up skin for a day.
A woman needs to laugh
find her playful self
longing to come back into the playground.
When times are challenging
she must look deep within
her inner child will always be there.
Her inner child will always welcome her back
to those magic gateways of childlike wonder
sometimes forgotten.
Her inner child can take her hand
help her find her path when she is lost
give her guidance along the way.
Her inner child waits in dreams
on all womanly highways
the roads leading her back to herself.
© 2014 Stacey Handler
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Agung, Abang, Batur
sacred volcanoes
gateways to Gaia
standing silent
omnipresent
dawn’s light your only adornment
at your feet
paddy fields
emerald carpets
across which you stride
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 2:30 PM UTC
Death is the act of becoming.
Death is the act of birthing.
Death is all that is, creation;;;
And destruction.
Death is love.
Death is hate.
Death is neutrality.
Death is chaos.
Death is order.
Death is truth.
Death is real.
Only death is real.
Death, death, death.
Only death is real.
Death is life.
Death is gateways.
Death is magick.
Death is G-D.
The Lord is life,
Thus, The Lord is death.
Death is endlessness.
Death is the spiral.
Death is forever.
Spiral. Spiral. Spiral.
Death is deathless.
Death is holy.
Death is Shiva.
Death is Allah
Death is ********
Death is Om.
Death is Jesus.
Death is Roman Empires fallen.
Death is the earth fallen.
Death is trees fallen.
Only death is real.
Only The Lord is real.
The Lord is death.
Death. Death. Death.
Only death is real.
Life is illusion.
A testing dream for death.
Death is a gateway to Divinity.
Only death is real.
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 6:17 PM UTC
Smudges in the sky
Swirling across my fingers
Gateways to heaven
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
I want you to think positive today
Speak up when you have something to say
Stand up and let your voice be heard
Whenever injustice knocks at your door
Don’t be afraid to cry out for mercy
Don’t be afraid to cry so the world may be at your knees
Don’t be afraid to be vocal
Whether foreign or local
Don’t be afraid to challenge the stagnant system
Whether by voice or by the written work
Let our hearts beat as one with the Congo rhythm
Sing out The great reggae legend philosophy
Bob Marley
One Love, One hearts lets get together and feel all right
I and I is a woman of righteousness
Everywhere me step Jah bless
Me radical
Every vagabond has to scatter as the power under which is dwell is internalized
Out of me the almighty specialized and their wicked cult can’t suffice
So open up your eyes
Please do realize
Take away the cobwebs, remove the mask of disguise
And see I prophecy
Paint away the graffiti of one’s mind
Remove the zinc fences and card board boxes
That tries to manipulate
See God
See the devil when he masquerades
Realize his plan
His advocates and be aware
It’s a physical
A spiritual warfare
Soldiers
Put on your armour
Prepare for war
Keep your mind open
Keep it secure
The gateways to your soul
Protect it with spiritual intervention
If you don’t
Illusion
Delusion
Difficult situation
Under the system’s manipulation
Hold an herbal, spiritual meditation
And revolutionized
Modernized this ya mind
Christena AV Williams
Jamaican Radical poet, rap lyricist and Author
Pearls among stones
All rights Reserved.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
To live is to research happiness
and homes for the pleasure of ending.
People, through illusions, can shape
happy possibilities from speech and position.
Don't write it out.
A life more useful than tragic
is original in a moment,
can transcend as well as
fall into mistakes and experiences.
To get your body to lean
as far forward over the
insurmountable bubble as possible,
Is to create magic that consists of gateways
and actions -- the outcome of which
can place a thinker with only few
leaps stranger than your enemies.
Always forgive.
Magic sometimes longer than a pause
between morality and naked minds
influences the two ways a relapse synapse will run.
The true temptation of safety can be
carpeted by play dough and play grounds.
It's better to not sustain interfering manufactors,
to not pirate the lies a man historically risks
on quality of thoughts,
But instead depend the nature of your virture
on exploration at the heart of echoes.
Why should you quit?
A human's greatest obstacle is finding the principles
we don't discover with the jailer listening and
men afraid to rock the boat.
Give better than you dare have.
Reset the age of the mind and give parallel
truths at the point of sweeping tides.
To understand the laws of popular drifting,
compromise the art of part establishing,
occupy an ambitious ideal;
You will lose an elevation over not being, not remembering.
Sometimes treading water becomes a nuisance,
and you'll lose a choice in the dungeon.
Don't abandon your force.
Don't regret the pursuit of circumstances.
Don't delude a reputation of bridges and evidence.
Empathy is traveling the world for imagination and salvation.
We are here for a spell; one equality
shreds the ears ready to get you in trouble.
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 10:21 AM UTC
Historically this history is my Thucydides,
And when I need that leadership, where is my Pericles.
Philosophies are just to please all my Aristocles,
And when I need a lover, where are my Persephones.
A thousand hordes with blazing swords descend to vanquish me,
I sit and pray that this today's not my Thermopylae.
The gateways hot, they say that's not the way it's meant to be,
So Ill just float here in my boat in my Aeagean Sea
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 5:58 PM UTC
My heart's ablaze
I'm so amazed
cluttered in clichés
in a daze
I'm dismayed
too many long driveways
Life's fortes
as we graze
upon the gaze
in a haze of haze
trapped inside this maze
our voices phase
into the next of days
Oh did we raise
with utter rephrase
glancing sideways
into stairways
how I hate your ways
as much as I hate causeways
too much decay
along the edgeways
inside the hallways
roadways
screenplays
my heart strays
on into Sundays
and Tuesdays
I hate the weekdays
they're gateways
into other days.
© 2012 Christina Jackson
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
One soul to awaken
Two souls to make love
Three souls officiate a family
Five elements to keep in balance
Eight gateways to filter through
Thirteen to make it true
Twenty-one to set in stone
Thirty-four to seven the circuitry in I AM the will atones
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
I just write it
as it is spoken.
A Divine Voice
created matter,
space, and time.
God's wisdom is not speechless
because you choose not to hear.
A belief of senses, does that matter?
I see it now
Her and I
Perfect in God sight
Like male and female
On the six day of creation
Love is not known
Just perfection
Never mind
The unsuspected
Elohim said "not to eat"
Of the tree
of knowledge
of good and evil
A simple taste
would open their eyes
to a perspective that
will change their minds
What they believe now
is only a soul desires
of the gateways into
their eyes.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Following the path less taken
Over all the low roads and
Routes plummeting towards the craven
Gateways of Hell takes the travelers
Into enlightenment. Those who avoid Satan's
Vengeance and forked whispers
Emerge from the waters of the lake in
Nature's womb veiled in holy layers
Encompassing their soul. This ache in
Society seeps into the bones of naysayers
Slandering the purging powers of equal pardon.
Jun 24, 2019
Jun 24, 2019 at 12:17 PM UTC
Awaiting that moment, was it
Meant to be, as two feathers
Floated upon a last breath.
White as if from heaven, landed
Settled upon the left eye.
Seeing, searching the mind of
All the good that was done.
Dark as night a feather as ominous
As night itself fell upon the right.
Seeing, searching the soul for
All that tainted through life.
Barbs did seed upon the flesh,
and all that was known was now
Learnt, nothing hidden all was
seen from within.
Each rachis did fill, leached from
The body of what was drawn in,
Soul, heart, mind now emptied
in to each feather filled.
The quill did drip, with all that
Was taken, the feathers had fallen
Earthbound each partaken upon the
Gateways of the soul.
What did it find within, as a drop
Fell from each upon the lips, and
A last word spoken from each.
But only you will speak these words
Once the feathers fall and see all
Within. One white, one black which
One will carry you, where will your
Afterlife now begin.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 7:22 AM UTC
The cloudy nightmares,
Images of pasts, repressed
Forever dying
Their tombs are destroyed,
Gateways to the collections
Violently *****
Given a **** or
Second thought to understand
Tragic endeavors
Numbness overcomes
And overshadows, under
Dark circumstances
Sly, insidious,
Uninspired, and flawless
Miracles occur
Alone in my world
Stoicism has benefits
No one else matters
Dreaming, believing,
Living, thinking, and feeling,
But never kneeling
Twelve, thirty-seven,
Six-million ways to die, but
One to stay alive
Dec 2, 2009
Dec 2, 2009 at 11:24 AM UTC
If I ruled the world
The air would be gray
So each day
We could sit and watch
The colors blow away
If I ruled the world
The whole globe would be gay
Happiness abundant
In a joyous
Kind of way
If I ruled the world
Races would be gateways
To walk into the life
Of another culture each day.
If I ruled the world
Boundaries would be no more
I'd step on racism
And knock down hatreds door
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:37 PM UTC
The doors that light the heavens
Are the gateways we do perceive
As simple stars in a blank black sky
But they are as portals to another life
Another home, another love
What we neglect, they protect
And too well their job is done.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 5:14 PM UTC
It feels more times than not
My character is misconceived
Wherein my affinity for emotion is
Either ill received, or begs condescension
Such vindictive decrees for
Souls just as flawed as me
The difference is
Mine are the only flaws that I can see.
Void of emotion?
I prefer to think that I can
Differentiate between
A fleeting feel
And what is real -
What of the lack of social devotion?
I am only at my best
Around those who create from the heart
I discard the rest, because
I am the company I keep,
And I've kept from the start.
Over the top flattery?
I beg to differ.
You mistake the way I speak and the things I do
For my romantic battery
The thought of which makes me quiver -
It says a little something about you, too.
You fail to see
That I can so naturally
Draw emotion from the smallest of things
Do you think it is through arrogance that I sing?
A highly internalized being, who only creates things
To feed an insatiable egotistical craving?
Clearly the life that you lead
Is just lacking fantasy, or a sense of meaning...
I have met people who are metaphorical gateways,
No, actual ley lines of human creativity.
I wonder if their work would
Make you question your brand
Of Humanity.
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 10:44 PM UTC
The beginning of the end.
A sandstorm made a huge 400 floor library sink beneath the sand.
At times a tall tower can be seen sticking out of the sand.
There are wolfs bringing information from across the land.
The library overseen by a spirit of an owl.
Many have tried to find the library but they threw in the towel.
The library has a huge ancient observatory.
A huge telescope looking at the stars tells a story.
There are parts of the library that has been untouched for a century.
There is an extremely huge card catalogue.
It even owns books from ancient babylon.
The library has various gateways.
The bookshelves looks like endless hallways.
There are parts that are inaccessible.
The libraries knowledge is unsurpassable.
A huge staircase that is broken.
The timepiece on the wall is broken.
A Lot of travellers got lost.
The library is filled with snow, sand, moss and the one room is filled with a forest.
The library is full but it still has a lot of storage.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
Of distant dreams that call in the silence of dusk,
Their resonance in tropic humidity
Calling to me through the jacaranda and palm
past the swirling spanish moss
Their melodies resounding like bells in the lilac evening
And the chorus of crickets that drifts out to a harvest moon sky
O distant dreams that calm my sadness
and wrap me in their warmth
on passing ocean breezes,
Meander through stirring branches of twilight forests
to greet my Summer desolation,
sweeping me to your fabled lands,
beyond evening's gateways.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC
Flickerings of distant memories flutter
past my psyche into nothing.
Through an astral plain I drift.
Over nonexistent lands
my feet carry me, floating.
She slinks away, the black cat, agile—
“The dreamscape is a fragile
thing,” she said. I'm following,
changing, borrowing her shape but then
the story fades, too vague
and just like that
it's vanished.
Incomprehensible images wander
as clouds through skies of colours unseen.
I'm lost in an ocean of questions
that pierce my ears as hooks through the fish's mouth
but I cannot ask,
for a white hot zipper seals my lips.
A voice whispers, breath damp in my ear:
“Watch, listen...”
The ground opens beneath me
and I plummet.
Feeling cold against my skin
I'm naked, vulnerable, fearful.
This pit must be bottomless but
I've landed, unscathed.
Bathed in grasses soft as silk
smelling of life and freedom
I'm enveloped in relief, protection.
My body moves, uncontrollable
as reeds in a river
yet still guided by a wind with no origin
playing melodies of beauty immense and painful.
Wonder fills me as the song ends,
ominous and heavy the silence looms.
Flowers die and the grasses wither
as I'm pulled away,
reluctant.
Higher, higher I'm lifted
into lucidity
past ladders and staircases, tunnels and gateways
closing before my eyes
as nearer draws the moment I dread more than anything.
Despite my persistence,
I'm solid again.
I'm myself, mundane and mourning:
awake.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 3:42 PM UTC
Hands that hold to speak
quiver in this moonlight
awaiting slipping moments peak
to cry to the heart
Trembling its darkened dawns
dusting away at the pieces
of myself that have been
left to the wind.
Emptied caskets
fill the spaces of
energetic flesh
on my breast
Gashed and still
in this wippity whimperous moment.
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me when I make silent calls between two worlds,
Do you hear my voice calling to you?
Then gapes a girl curious to explore the world
"I think I hear you" she says,
all the while raising an ear to snippits.
I,
I just want to love you so, so deeply
I want to cleanse you
I want to make you shine with a radience like sunlight
liquid dancing flickers on flowing river songs
creek beds of bliss
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you, you , you, you, you hear me?
I´m pleading to that smile
hidden by mental chitter chatter
hop off the train, empty off your platter
of burdenous fruits
release all of that matter
Do you hear me?
Hey darling, moon belly seastar
dancer
I see you
I love you
I am you
Do you hear my long echoing cries for freedom?
Do you hear my gentle sighs,
gateways to divine skies
Do you hear me?
A drop of arms
A rising breath
an emptied teth
"I hear you¨" she says,
"I hear you, I hear you, I hear you!!"
her voice roars on
"I hear you, I am you"
Wild ravonous wails
I hear your nightingale calls,
I hear the ups and downs as heartbeat falls,
I hear rambling nectar
rollin smoothly off our soul
I hear a lovebirds
sonnet roll
Oh mother, oh Great on in Me in You in We,
I hear you, I hear you, I hear you,
I hear you
and I´m ready to listen.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:23 PM UTC
.
Thrown into an event,
temptation wearing a smile,
as you fall into the void
behind my pale blue eyes,
a willing traveller
through gateways of adventure.
And you stumble through
to mystery, unknowable puzzles,
a Pandora's box of imagery,
bound and enslaved,
to dream, reality, memory,
bedecked with lucid hallucination.
The intensely dark and hollow,
the bright lights hot shine,
all swirl in symbiosis,
dazzling and confusing your view,
assaulting your quiet feelings
with butterflies and nausea.
And you sink enthralled,
appalled, intoxicated,
as thoughts, desires, pictures,
flash before your eyes unbidden,
products of inertia
from the depths of my mind.
© Pagan Paul (02/07/18)
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 9:42 AM UTC
“d’ya see it yet?”
“no, no, swing harder!”
Tink tink TINK TINK
“A hole! Hit there!”
SLAM! Crumbling
Falling through
Landing soft on
Nothing
“Her head-”
“There’s nothing in here!”
Skeptic now
Of their own minds
“there should be
An entire world in here!”
Banging at their skulls
“is that how ours are?”
Picks through their own bones
They look into empty worlds
“anything in mine?”
“nothing!”
“yours, too!”
Climbing from the shell
Cracking others open
“there must be
A thought in one of them
For us to live on”
Splitting into white
Finding only white
Staring in dismay
At all the wasted gateways
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 12:26 AM UTC