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"worrior" poems
First Love is funny Like a burning ring We all fell into it once Memories Memories Time ago Young in age Tender in heart Just like in the garden I wanted to touch the apple Just the next street Yet my bath must be long Had no real beard Wonder what I was shaving Armpit cleaned like a desert Nails cut to shape Memories Memories Shirt ironed repeatedly Trousers checked for unseen tears Day before Only shoe shined to new. Hair line brought to shape By my mum used tiger razor Memories Memories Vasselin on my face Power on my neck Perfumed ear To make complete Memories Memories Mirror Mirror How do I look Turning Turning Looking Looking The boy must be perfect To met his presumed perfect girl With a novel in hand A nappe in the other The boy good to go Certified by my coach Unseen shadow accomplices Bold and calm Queens and polished coach gave order Tell her she is not beautiful But pretty Tell her she is not a girl But an angel Tell her she is not now But the future Whistle blown I marched forward Be calm be calm My shadow kept saying Target in sight Worrior on the March Memories Memories At the junction of battle Without rain Was covered in sweat Had a quick look backward My shadow had disappeared queens refused to be fluent words of love had flew away Smiling was i Cleaning my sweat Opening my novel able to ask for her note Last assignment of Saturday We don't school on Saturday Memories Memories Prayed for rapture Even though I new will end in hell Any other thing My hunted asked No! no!! no!!! The hunter said Hunted standing Hunter running Memories Memories Now in a corner Waiting for my scar to heal ****** up my coach said Thanking God I came alive Even when the battle was lost Memories Memories Love is like a burning ring We all fell into it once Memories Memories And Memories
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Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 8:45 PM UTC
Learning to crawl
First Love is funny Like a burning ring We all fell into it once Memories Memories Time ago Young in age Tender in heart Just like in the garden I wanted to touch the apple Just the next street Yet my bath must be long Had no real beard Wonder what I was shaving Armpit cleaned like a desert Nails cut to shape Memories Memories Shirt ironed repeatedly Trousers checked for unseen tears Day before Only shoe shined to new. Hair line brought to shape By my mum used tiger razor Memories Memories Vasselin on my face Power on my neck Perfumed ear To make complete Memories Memories Mirror Mirror How do I look Turning Turning Looking Looking The boy must be perfect To met his presumed perfect girl With a novel in hand A nappe in the other The boy good to go Certified by my coach Unseen shadow accomplices Bold and calm Queens and polished coach gave order Tell her she is not beautiful But pretty Tell her she is not a girl But an angel Tell her she is not now But the future Whistle blown I marched forward Be calm be calm My shadow kept saying Target in sight Worrior on the March Memories Memories At the junction of battle Without rain Was covered in sweat Had a quick look backward My shadow had disappeared queens refused to be fluent words of love had flew away Smiling was i Cleaning my sweat Opening my novel able to ask for her note Last assignment of Saturday We don't school on Saturday Memories Memories Prayed for rapture Even though I new will end in hell Any other thing My hunted asked No! no!! no!!! The hunter said Hunted standing Hunter running Memories Memories Now in a corner Waiting for my scar to heal ****** up my coach said Thanking God I came alive Even when the battle was lost Memories Memories Love is like a burning ring We all fell into it once Memories Memories And Memories
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90
Once upon a time World was not in peace Wars happened everywhere Women and kids were all sad Husbands and dads Joined the wars and dead There was one kid He saw what he saw His dad was killed They slit his throat and laughed That violance somehow Embedded something in his heart Years passed He is a grown man now World is still the same Wars still everywhere He survived somehow He is still alive now As a grown man He wanted to serve his country A dangerous but safe ground Where his dad was killed Where a lonely kid grew up He worked hard on skills And joined so many wars He danced in each war With his beautiful partner, His sword Whenever he saw violence He was terrific then But now he's not To **** enemies is a must To protect the ground he lives in is a must There is nothing he terrific of He saw the worst possibility of violence His dad was killed! They slit his throat! He is a cold hearted worrior "Don't beg for life when you **** people, Don't beg for sympathy when you have none" Those ices embedded in his heart Made him a merciless man They killed his parents with no doubt The same way will he do He is the cold hearted worrior He lives with his sword He is living in wars.
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
Once Upon A Time
life is an irony, A place where non-living things tends To live longer than the living Life's too short The dust beneath  your feet today Might be your roof tomorrow! Life is a battle field The survival of the fitest Then palm wine for the victors Seven virgins should be waiting, My soul groans to give in Am a wounded worrior, And my cartridge is empty of bullets!
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Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 7:34 AM UTC
Life is an irony
If you insist that your home is not here with us then find the right place to pitch your tent and dwell with your people. Permission is given to the one whose ear is willing to contain and hold the truth to stand tall and get the crown for himself, for many warriors are willing to die for it. Go for it the warrior of the land, the man of war and the right hand of the king. Your strength is of the spirit, mightier than the lion, they speak of your strength, your people salute you. Stand out of the crowd, you who are called to partake in the regimen of the chivalry knights of the chosen ones. Find your place in the scheme of things prepared for only those who walk in the part of the divine light burning within them. You truly belong to the chivalry knight of the brave for you have shown yourself worthy of such a high calling. May you be blessed and protected. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 8:05 AM UTC
WORRIOR OF THE LAND
Ochre scrubbed ebony skin Wooden jewelery here and there Picture perfect beauty in simplicity She walked in moral fortification - fashioned in decency Hardwork and wisdom was her charm Barefeet and weighted with firewood on her head Pots and baskets she juggled in hands and through scorching heat she focussed ahead the dessert sand burning her feet Not once did she say it was a plight She was proud to be a woman The keeper of men and children Through rain through sunshine cooperating with her man's other woman She worked for survival of all Getting up in the first light of day Submitting and respecting Raising her children in acceptable ways She was the unglorified worrior A war hero could not fit her shoe But she didnt have that shoe So she smiled and made her man happy, and her children
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Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
The African Woman
~~~~~ "Sorry seems to be the hardest word." I feel your wonderful eyes. He was a greating glider Knowledgeable, nice and Sweet. Had a nasty divorce Flooded with ***** accusations Nailed and tortured by himself For the things he wouldnt do.. He was clean. ~~~~~ Tears within us turn to ice. And they should burst. ***I've never cried over you. I don't know you.*** Perhaps. I did. Once upon a time. For real. He is a quick thinker A worrior with an ancient Soul and a progressive Hardness. A Black pearl. Shelly aboard in disguise. Soft as a kitten is his heart. I love him. ~~~~ "Let love rule" ***Rise and shine. A perpetual creation.*** Monsoons and many moons Have passed like a metaphor Core. A divine traveler. A colourful world It is. He reads thankfully Astonished. And humms songs Of devotion. And he Writes perfectly. ~~~~~ Harvest moon ***He loves modern music and dancing. He writes.*** He dreams about another tattoo across his heart. We share air. She was touched Today. And there Were sparks sizzling through. One long frozen Moment. Reaching The most intimate Awareness. Not uncharging the potential. There was a simple question: "How did you spend the day?" "With the beautiful artist In bloom. Drawing." Shyness. And the Realization. He glows.
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
Inbetween Moments
My girlfriend's father turned Sixty. The party was legendary. I remember everything. By the sea. She was beautiful. The microphone stang my Lips as I read the Worrior's Poem. Her dress was the closest I came To pyjamas this morning. Now her father won't stop Laughing. Bailey's and IPA for breakfast. Sometimes eggs deserve to Remain unbroken. She's warm and naked in bed, and I'm laughing all the way To her.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
The Drunkest
I wonder the world i lived in A world where ........ Acceptance,love ,happiness are all fantasies Does world full of happiness really in existence Is happiness really possible I live in the world where u cant have what u deserved Where you cant have the trust you earned Where you cant have the love you deserved Where you cant have the happy life you worked for A world where you cant live the life worth living Where you cant have the house worth having Where you cant date a girl worth dating Where you cant go to school worth going Where you cant drive a car worth driving A world where an ignorant is voted in as a president A rogue voted in as a governor A madman voted in as mayor An adulterous man is choosen as a priest A world where ********** are the prayer worrior I live in a world where ......... No money no love No money no happiness No money no school No money no family  are the popular keywords The world i live is full of pain instead of joy The world i live is full with hatred instead of love The world i live in is full with betrayal instead of trust The world i live The world i live The world i live is full of pain,
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
THE WORLD I LIVE
The voices of pain tourmenting him, The voices of tempation destroying him inside and out, The voices of his traumatised soul ripping his heart to shreds, Images of the horrible situations of his past life, The horrible voices of the ones who hurt him bouncing around his head "Fight, Stay down, keep going, youre worthless, you never do anything right, youre strong, youre weak, youll never make it, save everyone, you cant even save yourself, stand strong, you will fall." The voices that controverse eachother, What should he follow, Is he weak or is he strong, Someone believes in him, That voice of encouragement never fails him, It always guides him right.
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
Burdens of a worrior.
As I look into her eyes I see endless skies I see the definition of infinity, As I watch her energy I see the possibilities I see not the end but the beginning, As I see her soul move with grace I see her life moving at her pace She has the definition of potential, As I see her look into the mirror I see in her eyes rejection and doubt As she looks into the eyes of society She sees a ugly fat person who'd be better off dead, But what she doesn't know is that she has the looks of a queen, the personality of a comedian, and the strength of a worrior, Woman be not afraid to be your self and let your potential come out, Woman be brave, Woman open your eyes!
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
Her eyes my eyes
Dear son you are so eager to come to planet earth but this is too dangerous for you to survive lots of war ,deaths ,hatred and blood shedding all because of few pounds dear son I know you will fight to come to the planet but I wish I could stop you young one from coming to the cruelity of nature but you have to cope with it for sure dear son I know you are too young to understand bur the cruelity of life you have to withstand fight like a worrior and be  honoured like a soldier I have seen many but courage is the only key to success dear son my clothes are in pieces they talk for themselves the tales I have been through the road has been coarse and tough but be strong like a soldier dear son the seasons have changed       without anything we managed seasons comouflaged dear son my body is less immune I lost my body parts as a result  of local brew I know you are a toddler its hard to understand you will learn by your own mistakes and understand of what am talking about son
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Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
Letter to son
I am angry i was angry Will i be angry everytime I frown the world turns Up side down I am special im not In disguise this is the Real me,what now cant you Stop judging me! The world turns up side down again In this matter I am forced to smile in The darkness I am a king i know That i am honored by my Loyal sevance they where Named by the unknown The first one named 1-heart he keeps me updated with how im feeling and is my trusted advisor 2-mind he is my night a brave worrior against life and confusion 3-eyes for they see incoming danger And alerts my night 4-ears for they hear the tip-toes of my enemies traspesing and mostly know for listining to smooth rythms 5-mouth for they are the sounds of my kingdome I have no reason to be scared of anything I have believed that the world turns Up side down because I am a special king I smile when im angry
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
ΠP $IDE DOWN
⠀ Am listening to my heart And its full of echoes Echoes of memories of truth Yet i live in a world of pure deceit I once was full of vigor And earnest zeal to fight But now am a shell Ruins A remnant of my former self Hardened by the scorching life suns I miss my younger self That guy had his life figured out People think am smiling But all I do is open my mouth a little To catch breath when am suffocating inside Yet I laugh hard and loud To convince myself that all is well I dare myself to walk straight But their eyes betray what they think about me Yes I am a lot of things to a lot of people A clinician who gives hope to some A miserable resilient friend The guy with a broken engagement That dude with expensive taste A relentless prayer worrior The heartbreaker But as I said before Its what I am to them, And honestly speaking I don't know who I am anymore I used to have my life drawn Now I don't even dare sketch it I have not yet given up But am also not sure I care anymore Now am just a perpetual procrastinator I have been shrinking daily And now my skin is buggy Sometimes I feel like shadying it off I am a disappointment to myself Ever busy yet achieving no result Sometimes I get busy in bed Not in the way you are thinking I get busy summoning energy to wake up And that takes some time See I fell in love some day back Guess I fell alone She keeps me busy marktiming But hasn't allowed me to march We I need to move But she tells me to wait. But what is she waiting for She still lies to me with a straight face And she isn't sorry for that If she doesn't want to let me go Why not march with me If she doesn't want to march with me Why keep me marktiming with her Honestly am tired And am letting go now Am letting go of everything And am picking up my pen again And dating my paper into an everlasting poetry
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 4:21 AM UTC
am letting go
⠀ Am listening to my heart And its full of echoes Echoes of memories of truth Yet i live in a world of pure deceit I once was full of vigor And earnest zeal to fight But now am a shell Ruins A remnant of my former self Hardened by the scorching life suns I miss my younger self That guy had his life figured out People think am smiling But all I do is open my mouth a little To catch breath when am suffocating inside Yet I laugh hard and loud To convince myself that all is well I dare myself to walk straight But their eyes betray what they think about me Yes I am a lot of things to a lot of people A clinician who gives hope to some A miserable resilient friend The guy with a broken engagement That dude with expensive taste A relentless prayer worrior The heartbreaker But as I said before Its what I am to them, And honestly speaking I don't know who I am anymore I used to have my life drawn Now I don't even dare sketch it I have not yet given up But am also not sure I care anymore Now am just a perpetual procrastinator I have been shrinking daily And now my skin is buggy Sometimes I feel like shadying it off I am a disappointment to myself Ever busy yet achieving no result Sometimes I get busy in bed Not in the way you are thinking I get busy summoning energy to wake up And that takes some time See I fell in love some day back Guess I fell alone She keeps me busy marktiming But hasn't allowed me to march We I need to move But she tells me to wait. But what is she waiting for She still lies to me with a straight face And she isn't sorry for that If she doesn't want to let me go Why not march with me If she doesn't want to march with me Why keep me marktiming with her Honestly am tired And am letting go now Am letting go of everything And am picking up my pen again And dating my paper into an everlasting poetry
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63
Pain doesnt always alienate you Sometimes, It will shape you into a Worrior ~
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
Pain
Sitting in this class I feel as though I am wasting away with my thoughts costantly banging inside my head wanting to be free I am drwonging in my own mind with these thoughts like an angry god stirring the ocean of my happines and peace The god is drowning me and I am reaching twords the surface gasping for air but the techer drones on while I sit there seamingly bord Inside my own head is a battle raging my fear a lonly worrior fighting for a place in my mind my anxity is an army of hate My deppression is the godess of death with her staring eyes and mind breaking words The techer continues to with the lesson, the lesson that in my mind is the thing fuling the flames of my anger and pain The kids laugh while I walk by, I am invisible to everyone unless they want to bully me The kids are the mosters and I am the monster hunter who lost their wepon and is fighting a onesided battle My words are the double edged sword that while slicing down my enemys are cutting words in to my own skin The teachers are the evil overlords I must defeat but this not a real fight this is just a normal day That bag I wear on my back, no not the backpack, the depression and my thoughts make it impossible to run after my target It is heavy and the sword I cary so bravly is dulling with every slice it takes of my enmeys and myself I am waering the aroumr that protects my mind from the stress that is school that is the kids that is my deppression and my parents and my thoughts I am carring a sword that is dull but looks sharp so no one thinks to ask if it is sharp enough or offer to help when they see me loosing my battles I am have been shot down and stood back up when no one thought I would The teachers they act as though they care The teachers are the traitors that are pretending to be on your side when in reality they are serving the my angry god just to tick off another curriculum box That is my battle not one of bloodshed though it is and not one of physical but mental I see my life as a novle that I am wirting but I am the villian and hero and lost soul, I am everything and nothing If I see my life as a battle it is easier to face than if I see it as reality, in my mind I have superpowers and I am the greatest sword master though a clumsy one I will admit We all mess up but if I mess up thats just one more thing my angry god can use against me I am loosing to my angry god ;
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Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 11:45 AM UTC
My Own Novle of a hearo, villian, and lost soul
Sitting in this class I feel as though I am wasting away with my thoughts costantly banging inside my head wanting to be free I am drwonging in my own mind with these thoughts like an angry god stirring the ocean of my happines and peace The god is drowning me and I am reaching twords the surface gasping for air but the techer drones on while I sit there seamingly bord Inside my own head is a battle raging my fear a lonly worrior fighting for a place in my mind my anxity is an army of hate My deppression is the godess of death with her staring eyes and mind breaking words The techer continues to with the lesson, the lesson that in my mind is the thing fuling the flames of my anger and pain The kids laugh while I walk by, I am invisible to everyone unless they want to bully me The kids are the mosters and I am the monster hunter who lost their wepon and is fighting a onesided battle My words are the double edged sword that while slicing down my enemys are cutting words in to my own skin The teachers are the evil overlords I must defeat but this not a real fight this is just a normal day That bag I wear on my back, no not the backpack, the depression and my thoughts make it impossible to run after my target It is heavy and the sword I cary so bravly is dulling with every slice it takes of my enmeys and myself I am waering the aroumr that protects my mind from the stress that is school that is the kids that is my deppression and my parents and my thoughts I am carring a sword that is dull but looks sharp so no one thinks to ask if it is sharp enough or offer to help when they see me loosing my battles I am have been shot down and stood back up when no one thought I would The teachers they act as though they care The teachers are the traitors that are pretending to be on your side when in reality they are serving the my angry god just to tick off another curriculum box That is my battle not one of bloodshed though it is and not one of physical but mental I see my life as a novle that I am wirting but I am the villian and hero and lost soul, I am everything and nothing If I see my life as a battle it is easier to face than if I see it as reality, in my mind I have superpowers and I am the greatest sword master though a clumsy one I will admit We all mess up but if I mess up thats just one more thing my angry god can use against me I am loosing to my angry god ;
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22
Be not dependent like a scavenger Instead be a survivor, a worrior that fights for survival
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC
Be Fearless