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 Oct 2023 Khadijat Bello
Jess B
Dancing on the waters edge
Warm Bright Light

Kissing the Mountain Tops
As we say good night

Penetrating skin's surface
Could soothe or burn

Near Infrared Light
Said to heal we learn

But the sky is changing
or are we just further away

Sunken in tunnels
With lights of blue

Alert
Awake
Far from you...
I am someone you can count on.
If I say I will, I do.
If I say I can, it’s true.
I labor on when the rest are gone.

You can trust me with your secrets.
I’ve no need to tell the world.
My gossip flag is always furled.
So you will never have regrets.

I’m the one who’ll stand beside you
As you wade through thick and thin.
I’ll be like your next of kin
And I will always see you through.
ljm
My first attempt at an Enclosed Rhyme poem. (ABBA)
When looking at me
see yourself
We’re not that different
Just reflections seen in another light.



Shell ✨🐚
I remember the day I met you,
The time was half past nine.
You and your photogenic smile,
Made my heart fall out of line.

We talked until midnight,
Under the stars all old-style
The sunrise came to call you
And My heart was on the dial

All the poems that I wrote before
Were swayed by my whims
I wouldn’t fall for him, I swore
And now all my words belong to him
 Jan 2023 Khadijat Bello
irinia
Transformation:
one into many &
many into one

the bird of paradise
half truth and half lie
it's not pure fiction
but pure singing
or intensity of the dark light

this vibration of your U(nconscios)
is a floating vessel
(sunk into mystery)
for my dreams
mine is for yours and for her
and for them
this is the way we meet
It's scary and wonderful
to recognize each other
some mirrors are crazy
light hides itself best in the dark
and darkness hides itself
best in the brightest of lights

there are too many layers
of liquid meanings in this
creature called life -
the same way
the ocean is carrying
different layers of
pressure and dark

the bird of paradise
dissolves itself
into singing cause
this is the only way
to meet its music
a bird constantly changing
the shape of its wings
to accomodate danger -
the danger of being alive
on your own
day after night
the bird of paradise exists only
in poetry which distills the irrationality of life
reality protects itself with boundaries
for poetry not to destroy its might
speak to me like the sea, and
i did speak to you like the sea, but
when i opened my eyes and looked better
you were not  there anymore
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