"notifying" poems
I can't sleep, I can't rest my eyes.
Need to work harder this term,
Or I'll never get a job.
Need to get a job so I
Can work to get one later.
What will your face look like when
You see me? Will mine mirror
Yours? Do you still want to be
With me? Or are you sick of
My insecurities? I
Can't go back to the empty
Chatter and the meaningless
"I love you"s, sitting around
Waiting for absolutely
Nothing to happen.
Stabbed by passive aggressive
Thoughts unleashed like a weapon.
But this might not matter 'cause
The plane could crash or explode
And I won't have to worry
About a thing...except for
Medical bills, catching up
On schoolwork, notifying
Those who matter, offending
Those who don't. Maybe if I'm
Lucky I'll slip into a
Coma and rest for a while...
But that's no good because I'll
Just worry everyone else.
But really, I am just fine.
Just what are you doing? Don't
Look at me closely. I told
You that I'm fine, I'm okay.
Please have a nice day and don't
Worry about me. I'm fine.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
A Reading from the Book of Puppets
**Her
Ventriloquist venom is never ending
engineering every word I should say**
Pity me as her words drip down from my mouth
Look to me... my paralyzing awkwardness admonishes all attempts at paucity
the ***** of vernacular continues
Manifest as a million babble born words
look at her and you’ll know why
***Would you sell your soul
if you spoke staccato and she smiled sadistic?***
And when she’s not there
***I lay prostrate on the railroad tracks
of her impending presence***
restrained
and retrained in the tailisman rope of your arrival
Look there now, a Tongue tied in knots, a mind firing (shots)
I am reduced
she is labyrinthine, in both style, and substance,
a sapiosexual maze, a soothing syrup mixed with
biter bile
why then does
nothing feel better than to see her smile
Why validate her pleasure
with my defeats?
Stuck and ****** into a singular melodious smile, the tune of which I can’t help but dance to
Why? Because at the end of the day
your eyes jut out
candelabras in defiance the night
notifying the world
of all you want but have yet to receive
a shallow existence .... a marked man... a million morbid motifs
made of mucus and stuttered star beams
You are that rare being, a glimpse at myself both wretched and alluring
A soul already tainted::: still I seek to embrue, the boredom
I am voiceless
in this decaffinated life
a tendril of hair
a woman domestic
a shadowland chaser
a light that’s poetic
The addictive tape worm of my soul
cdh
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:15 AM UTC
Women are crying blood instead of tears
children are hunted like lions hunt deers
they don't even get a chance to plan for their careers
isn't that a big burden for them to bear ?!
Apparently , these aren't our interests to think about ..
Oh come on guys ! There still lots of movies and football matches to watch out !
Really , isn't he your brother who screamed loud ?
Asking; where are u brother ? I'm freaking out
He could hardly beleive you're leaving him to die out !
For how long will we pretend being deaf and blind ?
Are u waiting to hear the news notifying u the death of ur close friend ?
have u ever tried to think about the tough time he spent ?
and what did he do to have such an unmerciful end ?
Now raise your hands and ask Allah to have their nation mended ..
This at least will releive their problems and save them from that tormentful current
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
You: it is 2:10 am
Me: Eastern Standard Mystical Time, yup...
You: why are you up, writing?
Me: the drugs wore off
You: *** the drugs?
Say it ain't so, kiddo?*
Me: yup, I did engage
with some strong stuff
ce soir, the woman too,
and she is drowning in her dreams.
Easy and cheap,
scored some us some................
Asian Fusion
Thai Food, Indonesian small plates...
You: idiot!
Me: just answering your question
You: so where is this poem, shaman?
Me: You!
You: Me?
Me: yup.
You are my early morning poem,
which I have entitled Notification: You!
Notification
I am deeply unsure.
Am I notifying you,
or am I notifying myself?
Lost command of my
native language,
the emotions too strong,
Blue Java
the color of my word blood,
strong swirling,
uncontaminated by cow's milk,
but by cows jumping over the moon,
who have come to give me gifts of
Notifications.
*Hey ****** ******
The Cat and the fiddle,
The Cow jumped over the moon.
The little Dog laughed,
To see such sport,
And the Dish ran away with the Spoon*
Perfectly clear to me.
I am the Spoon,
You are the Dish.
(Shaman, Shaman, hey man,
you still sound drugged,
we urgent need some clarifications!)
When I wake up,
uncertain about a slew,
a portmanteau
of important life~things,
*(Example: when should I
Capitalize a word,
a life, a me, a You?)*
there are strangers,
Strangers still,
yet strangers no more,
sending me uncoded messages
intended to decode me,
Notifications,
they are called,
and they
Explode me.
capsules of comments
that encapsulate me,
emasculate my speaking abilities,
reduced to rolling in the gutter,
guttural cries to emit and utter,
man, I got friends I never met,
and that's ok
we just notify each other
thinking of you
and no more words necessary
life is groovy...
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
something told the wild geese it was time to go
as the soft breath of winter slowly fades away
beneath their wings it whispers "no more snow"
the chill of winter days has now gone
across mountain tops and fields of gold
the song of geese carries a distance tone
high up in the clear crystal blue skies
velvet clouds gives way to the sunshine
in V-shape form North wild geese flies
the geese call with the wind it's blown
check marking their flocks flight location
notifying relatives they're headed home
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 10:02 PM UTC
Count your friends instead.
the one who notify you that
your existence enhances them!
so for those special few,
I will say what ere I promised
Never to Say,
I like you too.
so count me instead,
read me like I read you,
In and Out,
Front and Back,
gotcha coming and going.
I'm notifying you,
You-we, are the best,
of Us,
and count me in
you.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Level of Uncertainty, This Yellow Star
“Even though I’m OK right now,
there’s a sense it could all go
away in a second.”
<>
foreboding,
a disease well known to me,
not “as if,” but in fact
been Cain-marked at
birth to be wary, be watchful,
ever alert, never inert in the
realm of possibilities,
the king
in my universe’s galaxy is the
randomness of existence,
microsecond, milligram minuscule,
muscular instability that even if
unspoke,
danger!
it’s bespoke nature, customized
just for me, lurks, prepared to ****
me into a hard fall, loss of balance
yes,
I prepare with subtleties, minute
measures, discrete and indiscreet,
measured steps, slow-wide turns,
“hands on the railing down the stairs we go”
motto~attitudinal, antithesis~carefree,
for this birthmark was forehead installed
from birth, as a reminder that
reckless abandon
is a countervailing force,
and there are whales in the ocean
and whole coteries of fish in the sea,
waiting, wanting to swallow me whole,
lions across the ocean faraway continents
eager for a nibble of my tender heart,
round **** and
thousands of people
who hate me and my kind, for no reason,
other than my birth mark,
this foreheaded
yellow star,
notifying all eyes, that I am to be dreaded,
feared, for reasons no matter,
just but unjustly
because, I am a Jew
who prays thrice
times daily for peace
for the whole world.
Sat Feb 10
8:35am
Feb 24, 2024
Feb 24, 2024 at 7:46 AM UTC
Umbra were my acquaintance.
Rehabilitating was never been on my plan.
Daftness was there to give me a chance,
Iciness was the best attitude that I’ve done.
Elysian was ready to hug me, yet;
Lucifer got one of my feet.
Acting that I never been felt any sick,
Catching my breath, I’m waiting for someone to save me by their trick.
Aching heart has been pushing and calling me,
Beckon me to end everything in order to be free.
Aspiring to turn myself as a beautiful literary piece in deep blue sea,
Notifying that I’ll never see how badly was reality.
In the end I’m all alone,
Listening when will I ever fall and be thrown.
Lachrymose face is my perfect pattern,
And no one seems to bother how they left my heart broken.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
I miss the way your body molded around me under the covers and how your skin gently kissed mine. Your soft breathing rustling across my skin, singing me to sleep. I miss the gentle snores after you had floated into sleep, your arm tucked over and under me. I miss the way you would twitch in your sleep, notifying me of a night terror. I miss the way your snoring would ensue with a hand on your head and a kiss on the cheek. I miss the way your eyes would meet mine in the morning, with a faint smile as your hand rose to my face. How gingerly your lips met mine. How caring your handling was, as if I was porcelain and you were rock. I miss the way your hand found mine, almost as if by accident, as we walked side by side. I miss the way your body would find a spot in my arms so perfectly, and how you rested against me with repose. I miss how your voice would raise in pitch when you were excited, and your eyes would gleam brighter than normal. I miss the surprise visits and the way you looked at me. I miss seeing you every day. I miss the harshness of your words as they rolled across your tongue and spilled over the ridge of your lips. I miss all of your broken promises and somber apologies. I miss the rage. My heart has been mutilated by so many others, yet still beats the strongest when my eyes graze across your image.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
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
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
Let me go back to school,
Oh please,
Let me go back.
The halls felt so hollow
As we went from class to class
Let me go back
to lectures and tests
instead of “I don’t know”s
and “haven’t been told”s
and “we’ll figure it out as it goes”
Let me go back
to my day to day schedule
my hour to hour maps
to knowing what comes next
Let me go back
to friends and fun and teenage things
to not fearing face to face meetings
the constant talk of death
Let me go back
Let me relax
Instead of watching case numbers and
Death Tolls
notifying my phone three times a day
Let me think of anything else
Oh Please,
Let me go back.
Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 10:26 PM UTC
you are very
bad at
notifying.
it's a thing
you don't
have.
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
Blue screen
Red eyes
2am
Frowning with smile
Looking straight in her eyes
As he swipe through her profile
Switching app to app
To see her latest stride
Morning
At noon
Tired eyes
Still she is on mind
Follow, friend request or ping,
What should he do?
To let her know,
He too subsist
Nervous
Courageous
Full of Fear
Followed, requested and pinged too
Felt as a proposal
For her to choose
Between him and the other guys who send her posts too
Scrolling
Waiting
Updating
Thinking, he is ignored
He was being okay
But Phone chimed
Notifying “one new request”.
Happiness
Shaking breaths
Fear of uncertainness
As he opened,
Its her request
He accepted as soon as he can
Showing his keenness
Thinking to makes his move
Without caring if its too soon
Likes
Comments
Mutual friends
All know what it meant
He thought
Hi, hello or what up?
Before, he asks
“If she mind being on her what’s app?”
Stressed
Hope-full
Full of expectations
“Hey, how you doing?” He texted
In seconds
Phone chimed
It notified, she “posted a new picture”
He instantly commented and liked
Waiting for her to reply
Days passed
Likes, comments, content shared
But she didn’t replied
How she was?
And He thought
He was someone more
Another night
Red eyes
2am
And one more profile.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 12:26 AM UTC