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"shedder" poems
Esu Lanlu Esu Elegbara Esu Odara Esu, the scared child of heaven Esu, a reviled, respected, Yet misunderstood being. Esu, all creations dance to your best of life Esu Dagunro Esu Lukuluku Esu Apagbe Esu, the quickest and fastest one Esu, confuser of many Esu, the disruptor of order Esu, the iconic one Esu, the master of linguistics Esu, the conciliatory peacemaker Esu, the divine alchemist Esu, the trickster Esu, the pusher of those, Who doesn't carry Olodumare's wishes. Esu, the inseparable friend of Orunmila Esu, Papa Legba Legba Atibon Kalfou Papa La Bas Esu, divine messenger of transformation Esu, ebora to luti la nbo Esu, Okunrin ori ita Esu, a quick responder when consulted Esu, divine messenger of the gods Esu Odara, the divine one of Ose Otura Esu, carrier of the ase of sensuality and fertility Esu Lanlu, king of dance Esu, keeper and imparter of ase Esu, the fundamental Orisa Esu, the manifest of greatness Esu, the one who is as hard as Rock Esu Akeregbaye Esu, the shedder of blood who knows no one's tears Esu, the controller of earth Esu, the special middle man between heaven and Earth Esu, the anointed rope to success and wealth Esu Lanlu Esu Elegbara Esu Odara Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
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Jul 6, 2020
Jul 6, 2020 at 8:18 AM UTC
Esu
Simple verses, blessed be the uncomplex, But the visions, the glimpses, The sightings, in and out, Are celestial of, in, and on This planet shared. I will walk with you to Henry's Isle, You, with me, on the beach, We will ford Crab Creek, When the tide is low, And repair to The Poet's Nook, Where a moss stained Adirondack chair Awaits the Poet Prince, Your poems carved into It's soul, it's arms, it's back, Giving comfort continuous. This chai, this chair, this throne, Reserved for the lyricist of our lives, The shedder of light upon the special, The seconds, that fete our senses. I await you arrival. Tender this serenade, this overdue apology, For having not thanked you properly For your living kindness, Yet my words, insufficient, compared to yours...
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
Pradip Chattopadhyay
Nat Lipstadt Mar 10 Pradip Dear Sir, I can't keep up with your prolific, delighting, creations This must be the third poem at least, for and to you, I, publicly address the thought terrifying, if you took a vacation, and had really some free time to write I do believe man, it's time for a unique, reserved, deserved, and as of yet, unheard of special, Hello Pradip Section on this site for this is yet one more in a streaming video poem, of me acknowledging you, Master of the Word, Wright Templar, Poet Extraordinaire, Most Importantly, Beloved Human, whose vision sees the world in ways that I adore S. suggests, I take a vaca just to eat your words, in the lazy, rushed fashion they deserve but tween us, your secret kept, your parrot and street dog Hengloo write every other one, cause no human could thus excel, without some help of animal spirits in between your beloved Saturdays Yours Devotedly, An Exhausted and Admiring, Nat Lipstadt ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nat Lipstadt Sep 2, 2013 Pradip Chattopadhyay Simple verses, blessed be the uncomplex, But the visions, the glimpses, The sightings, in and out, Are celestial of, in, and on and about This planet shared. I will walk with you to Henry's Isle, You, accompany me, on the beach, We will together ford Crab Creek, When the tide is low, And afterwards, Repair to The  Poet's Nook, Where a moss stained Adirondack chair Awaits the Poet Prince, Your poems carved into It's soul, it's arms, it's back, Giving comfort continuous. This chai, this chair, this throne, Reserved for the lyricist of our lives, The shedder of light upon the special, The seconds, that fete our senses. I await you arrival. Tender this serenade, this overdue apology, For having not thanked you properly For your living kindness, Yet my words, insufficient, compared to yours... A special man, a simple homage.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
Happily Reposting in honor of Pradip
Nat Lipstadt Mar 10 Pradip Dear Sir, I can't keep up with your prolific, delighting, creations This must be the third poem at least, for and to you, I, publicly address the thought terrifying, if you took a vacation, and had really some free time to write I do believe man, it's time for a unique, reserved, deserved, and as of yet, unheard of special, Hello Pradip Section on this site for this is yet one more in a streaming video poem, of me acknowledging you, Master of the Word, Wright Templar, Poet Extraordinaire, Most Importantly, Beloved Human, whose vision sees the world in ways that I adore S. suggests, I take a vaca just to eat your words, in the lazy, rushed fashion they deserve but tween us, your secret kept, your parrot and street dog Hengloo write every other one, cause no human could thus excel, without some help of animal spirits in between your beloved Saturdays Yours Devotedly, An Exhausted and Admiring, Nat Lipstadt ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Nat Lipstadt Sep 2, 2013 Pradip Chattopadhyay Simple verses, blessed be the uncomplex, But the visions, the glimpses, The sightings, in and out, Are celestial of, in, and on and about This planet shared. I will walk with you to Henry's Isle, You, accompany me, on the beach, We will together ford Crab Creek, When the tide is low, And afterwards, Repair to The  Poet's Nook, Where a moss stained Adirondack chair Awaits the Poet Prince, Your poems carved into It's soul, it's arms, it's back, Giving comfort continuous. This chai, this chair, this throne, Reserved for the lyricist of our lives, The shedder of light upon the special, The seconds, that fete our senses. I await you arrival. Tender this serenade, this overdue apology, For having not thanked you properly For your living kindness, Yet my words, insufficient, compared to yours... A special man, a simple homage.
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89
This poem is dedicated to Steve Yocum, author, poet, and soldier farmer, father, grandfather, man exemplar, whom I honor and honors me, with the noblest title in all humankind, friend. But above all, I honor him most, as a tireless, truthful, harpooner of the examined and the unexamined life ~~~ *"Be the harpooners of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us, exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles, turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."* ~~~ these mine words writ many years past, dusted off phrasings, on dusty shelf long lain, mined from notes, decades steadily collected by steadily diminishing ears and eyes, gathered most from self-taught lectures and self-deceiving dances, garbed and wearily grabbed by the addict-strong  observational need, persistent and perpetual, to pay off fresh debits, renewables owed to the lovely, to the loopy, inhabitants who excite and inspire my so far, rebirthing, youthful, yearling heart who provide the special crazy that justifies existence just men, connected by a bond of sonship, kinship crowning kingship, blood types as different as an A is to B both shall weep in one blood, I, as I do now, while midst the nascent commencement of this sonnet, He, at its commencement, for a good friendship has no beginning or end, but is a circular track, a loop, familial by repeated runnings, yet never, coursed in the exact same manner or speed this thought, this knowledge, bring a smile to this crinkly eyed composer, that the metaphysical will always surpass the binding physics of mortal physical, that two man, who have never met, race side by side, not in competition, but in the mutuality of composition, each a candle holder, both writers, observing the dark illusions, re-making each into a carrier, a shedder of light, each a debt giver and a debt holder to each other, hosts to all the loopy, comfort caressers, to each other and to all who too, are light-bathed by being in possession of the title friend
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Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
Harpooners of the Unexamined Life
This poem is dedicated to Steve Yocum, author, poet, and soldier farmer, father, grandfather, man exemplar, whom I honor and honors me, with the noblest title in all humankind, friend. But above all, I honor him most, as a tireless, truthful, harpooner of the examined and the unexamined life ~~~ *"Be the harpooners of the unexamined life, with unfettered rhapsody, comfort caress us, exhort the loopy to light their illusionary candles, turn the sad eyed lowlanders into crinkly eye-lined smilers."* ~~~ these mine words writ many years past, dusted off phrasings, on dusty shelf long lain, mined from notes, decades steadily collected by steadily diminishing ears and eyes, gathered most from self-taught lectures and self-deceiving dances, garbed and wearily grabbed by the addict-strong  observational need, persistent and perpetual, to pay off fresh debits, renewables owed to the lovely, to the loopy, inhabitants who excite and inspire my so far, rebirthing, youthful, yearling heart who provide the special crazy that justifies existence just men, connected by a bond of sonship, kinship crowning kingship, blood types as different as an A is to B both shall weep in one blood, I, as I do now, while midst the nascent commencement of this sonnet, He, at its commencement, for a good friendship has no beginning or end, but is a circular track, a loop, familial by repeated runnings, yet never, coursed in the exact same manner or speed this thought, this knowledge, bring a smile to this crinkly eyed composer, that the metaphysical will always surpass the binding physics of mortal physical, that two man, who have never met, race side by side, not in competition, but in the mutuality of composition, each a candle holder, both writers, observing the dark illusions, re-making each into a carrier, a shedder of light, each a debt giver and a debt holder to each other, hosts to all the loopy, comfort caressers, to each other and to all who too, are light-bathed by being in possession of the title friend
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81
O' Salty tear, a mere clear drop you are You've emerged for a million different reasons many of which only the shedder knows for you've emerged in all seasons. The season of sadness or reason of joy The tears of grief and the tears of joy You and your unalloyed saline taste Thou art' but an emotional waste. O' Salty tear each time you drop into oblivion why not vanish away with your shedder's grief? I tell you O' tear if you take my opinion oughtn't you grant your shedder full relief? Ah, but thou seem a ceaseless ocean in reserve and store No one can be sure, he'll cry no more When you trickle down those sad upturned lips we know destiny perhaps made those painful slips! You are the raindrops of a grief-clouded heart You do emerge when two lovers have to part Help your shedder turn over a new leaf so you're associated less with grief. I've watched many a jilted lover weep all alone by the seaside so sorrowfully and watched tears glide down noses or pince-nez as their salty tears merged with the salty sea. O' Salty tear but it's time you learnt to wash away all and any melancholy from your shedder's heart and be such a buddy who never wishes to meet again the tearful shedder from whom you depart
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Dec 6, 2024
Dec 6, 2024 at 9:53 AM UTC
O' salty tear