"nea" poems
Fight fight fight
the sleep
the
fat
ig
ueNO
must stay awake.
For Kahlua coffee and 3 AM conversations.
Must must must.
Maybe it's ap
NEA I'm awake I promise Mama
you don't have to wake me up
from my midnight nap just
please please please
let me sleep
sleep sleep sleep.
I miss bedtime stories and
laughing laughing laughing,
even the word looks like
it's happy.
I miss not having to stress over
tests tests tests
for chemistry and pregnancy and honesty.
But I miss
you you you
and our songs
I miss you and our grass and our songs
the most
most most most.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 2:08 PM UTC
What can you say
to a generation who don't remember
your summer of love.
Who don't see the ribbon in the sky
Stevie wonder,
couldn't see
but saw .
The eventual maturity of a culture
whose built their identity off those brave enough to speak up.
when so many of us have been rendered cowards,
a perceived perception
fulfilling the essence of,
"Throw that *** in the circle!"
For that moment of miniscule acceptance
a belonging without question, we’ved missed since grade school .
“i am Full of myself, full of myself, i am full of myself” ,
as beyonica sells dreams of bootylicious billion dollar unions
nicki minaj and *** implants is the logical evolutionary conclusion
what's going on
no Marvin gaye
we already know
found our idol's.
they comes on
Mondays at 7.
So we don't look for them no more
Their Preprogrammed
Failed by the previous generation
who couldn't seem to find themselves and their patients long enough to lead.
What can you say to a generation
whose music don't speak of waiting in waters, but shaking those waters just enough
to get what you can from EBT
or being just quite enough so you don't have to scream
“I can't breathe”.
A battle between law and survival
and Democrats ain't been no better than Republicans since the 1700's
we’re still holding our breath in waiting..
**** your revolution old *****
it ain't did nothing
but make people believe that I have something that I could never
hold in my hand.
A black president
freedom
and a land
Turn up.
To the slowest change in history,
still waiting for equality on all fronts
this movement was debunked,
like the memories of Americans
30 minutes primetime cycles
What can you say
to a generation
who does the nea nea
where teddy bears and liquor bottles mark the legacy of the deceased
once lay,
such a short memory
these corner they lived and died for a singular belief
money over ******* get rich by all means.
that's our raising the bar
“go for the millions”
and if we play it right
miley cyrus
will twork your way to a grammy.
What can you say
to a generation.
where gay is so gay
no one knows it’s true meaning
we're all just dreaming
make it up as we go
bought into a coma
now trying to wake up.
What can you say
to this generation
except sorry
we left you nothing to hold on too.
but shadows
and hypocritical finger
that rely
“don't as i do “
but
“do as i say”
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 2:07 PM UTC
Sleeplessness
Grooving
A seemingly
Free drug
Slow mition
Moving slower
Distorted moths
Spew unrecognizabl
Babel
Babel
Spew unrecognizabl
Distorted moths
Moving slower
Slow motion
Free drug
A seemingly
Grooving
Sleeplessness
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 5:17 PM UTC
How she smiles
Melts my pain away
Takes me to a place
A glimpse of peace
Once a while
Like gentle breeze of green
And a happy sun
And pure air
Sanitised by nature herself
Touching the hairs of my skin
Clean
Lasting only a while
Not too long
I only catch a breath
Then back to regrets
Everyday spaces
Familiar places
Orchestrated in
Reverberated agonies of souls
Haunted by sin
Eating away inside our skin
A bit by beat
Pasts that will still lay
Before my eyes
With an uningnorable scent
Stubborn on my nose
On Statuses.
On WhatsApp.
On Posts
On Facebook
Wherever, my eyes look
Wherever, my life breeds
Wherever, my nostril finds air
Hanging strong
With such unignorable scent
Like freshly painted walls in cheap paint
Annoying
But
One that defeats love
Then she smiles again
With a little squeaky sound of laughter
Her little tongue
Peeking
Seeking
A shot at my soul
And I swear
Its only just
For a while
And again I am lost
In the gentle breeze of green
And yet again
I only catch a breath
.
NB) to my little darling Nealah
Heavens blessing.
📌 ~Nea-ism~
Poet : Joel Jokonia
Edited : Khana Moyo
Dated : 14April2020
Title : Breeze of green
~Number 11419~
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 2:10 PM UTC
Over two hundred
unread posts
by the pens I love the most;
where to begin?
Perhaps not at all?
May the cowards' way out
be ne'er known
to the readers
of these, my poems.
In Love's name
be they attempted
but by Love's name
be they hitherto
unread.
So grateful
am I;
are we;
for the words
of those
who seem to be
worlds away:
they, who share
the same words,
the same air,
the same Earth
as I;
I;
who am not
those I idolize
(if any)
;
A problem?
Nea;
a blessing
hitherto
disguised.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
The Day a Healer Did Weep,
The day did start with desire in the power of prayer,
Yond day would end in horrible, lingering, despair.
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,
In a blink, an instant, I wast whisked from the cubiculo,
The time did do cometh with swift, and desperate, finality,
While I did pray, and did beg God's holp, did do cometh lethality.
The leadeth leech would not giveth in until did pull away,
With the hurlyburly's end, We did weep together yond day,
This healer with emotion withdrawn, did do break down as a tyke,
The lady did has't this loving effect on all, in the very same like.
Ay, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C,
Nay one erned, but doctors, nurses, and me,
Thither wast nay flowers, nay mourners, nay half staff,
Mine heart ripped ope as with a warrior's gaff.
I cherished, and did protect the lady all our time together,
I did fix all, did maketh things right, cometh high water, or nether,
I couldst nae fix this, nay matter how hard I would tryeth,
Thou can not imagine such teen as I did watch that lady vade, and die,
Nary one knave, nay matter whom they may ever beest,
Can beest did replace, Each life is precious, I wouldst decree,
I wilt declare this to thou, All those yond would listen,
Taketh nothing for did grant, leaveth not a thing missing.
Liveth each moment with thy love as t'would beest thy last,
Leaveth nay regrets in thy future, or eyeless in thy past,
Still cogitate thy love as thou did has't from the first,
Tf 't be true thou pause too long, thou can nea quench such a thirst.
Thither is nary joy in living with regret, teen, and grief,
Liveth each day did share as a gift, and treasure this life brief.
(Translation)
"The Day a Healer Wept,,
The day started with hope in the power of prayer,,
That day would end in horrible, lingering, despair,,
The moniters sounded a wretched shrill of doom,,
In a blink, an instant, I was whisked from the room,,
The time came with swift, and desperate, finality,,
While I prayed, and begged God's help, came lethality,,
The lead Doctor would not give up until pulled away,,
With the battle's end, We wept together that day,,
This doctor with emotion withdrawn, broke down as a tyke,,
She had this loving effect on all, in the very same like,,
Yes, a life ended one warm, sunny, day in K.C.,,
No one grieved, but doctors, nurses, and me,,
There were no flowers, no mourners, no half staff,,
My heart ripped open as with a warrior's gaff,,
I cherished, and protected her all our time together,,
I fixed all, Made things right, Come high water, or nether,,
I couldn't fix this, no matter how hard I would try,,
You can not imagine such pain as I watched her fade, and die,,
No one person, no matter whom they may ever be,,
Can be replaced, Each life is precious, I would decree,,
I will say this to you, All those that would listen,,
Take nothing for granted, Leave not a thing missing,,
Live each moment with your love as it would be the last,,
Leave no regrets in your future, or hidden in your past,,
Forever cogitate your love as you had from the first,,
If you pause too long, you can never quench such a thirst,,
There is no joy in living with regret, pain, and grief,,
Live each day shared as a gift, and treasure this life brief,,
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
as the state of our union begins to crumble
like a first grade papier-mâché art project held together
with elmer’s glue and enthusiasm,
i wonder at a nation that thinks investing in guns and walls
will make the world better
than investing in art and empathy.
the united states of america already has a bigger military spending budget
than that of all the other first world nations combined.
you know, the best way to hit rock bottom is to keep building up
until the ceiling collapses in on you.
i do not worry for art
like i worry for a city gasping for breath through the smog
or a woman with smeared make up walking home alone at night;
see, art is hydra -- you cut its head off,
it grows back three more in its place that are singing.
but i worry for a world that thinks that it’s better to destroy than create
so here i sit and write this poem
before there are no more paint brushes, just rifles
no more ink stains, just bombs
and the earth is a canvas, soaked in blood.
remember,
after the world crashes and burns
there will still be someone who needs to write about the scars
and so i think
better to write than to erase,
better to sing than to scream.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
In the darkness of the night, I still remember your lips finding their way towards mine.
Your hands sliding down my back sending shivers down my spine.
One touch and I was frozen.
Can I be your chosen?
We could barely see what was in front of us, but yet our bodies were gravitating together.
Skin on skin we were beating any kind of weather.
I'll let you guide my body into the the darkness of the night.
Until we see the morning light.
I can still feel your warmth tingling against my skin.
Melting my body deep within.
The darkness has no fear.
I’ll let you hold my heart and steer.
-NEA
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
.I've seen many foretold stories. Some chapters closed, some still open!!! Unheard, and outspoken I marvel the tinkeries ahead! A crown of thorns on this head!!!!
I feeleth it all coming to its haulting stop, wherein this nothing wilt be naught and yea will be nea. Live for tomorrow, die today said musicians who get payed for sympathy...
Mourn me and miss me, thou haveth thy day long chance. For I'll be at the dance swaying positively in manic mode!
A foolish happy soul!!!!
Hahaha I'll Trip across mine own feet, I'll loosen these teeth and bite into farland fruits!!! Bare feet smashing Rebirth's roots! For all come back unnaturally....
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
"We have not inherited this World
from our long-dead Ancestors.
Nea, we are borrowing against it
in lieu of our unborn Children!"
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 6:02 PM UTC
.I've seen many foretold stories. Some chapters closed, some still open!!! Unheard, and outspoken I marvel the tinkeries ahead! A crown of thorns on this head!!!!
I feeleth it all coming to its haulting stop, wherein this nothing wilt be naught and yea will be nea. Live for tomorrow, die today said musicians who get payed for sympathy...
Mourn me and miss me, thou haveth thy day long chance. For I'll be at the dance swaying positively in manic mode!
A foolish happy soul!!!!
Hahaha I'll Trip across mine own feet, I'll loosen these teeth and bite into farland fruits!!! Bare feet smashing Rebirth's roots! For all come back unnaturally
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 9:18 PM UTC