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Tag Archives: Poetry

A LIVID LULLABY

At that moment,I don’t care if you’re a friend,

An enemy or just in my way.

At that point,

Your name doesn’t matter,

Your job doesn’t either.
It usually begins softly,

Some teasing and name calling,

Maybe if it’s a great day,

Some accusations will flow.

If not, 

It continues.
I’ll say something wrong,

And you’ll say something worse,

It flows,

The banter,

Up until the point when we can never go back.
I’ll see red and talk smut,

You’ll egg me on and,

I’ll be charmed,

The name calling and the jest,

Secrets outed and dirty laundry,

Stripped down to the last.
Like a moth to flames,

I’ll be enchanted,

I’ll never let it go.

Not until the fire consumes me.
My name is Vera and I’m an angry person

Titilope Adedokun

 

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THE UNTITLED BEAT

Persistently…
You hear the beating
The drumming
The humming
The force at which it bangs
The gravity at which it loses endurance
The untamed sound gets deeper and go deeper
It doesn’t die
Die please die
It just won’t die
You’re taking so long
And beating just too fast
You are scared you’ll explode
The sound is mixed..sweet pain..painful melody
Alas! Alas!
You wake up one day
The drum bows its potency
The sound becomes slower and lower
Alas!
The drumming is no more
The humming is buried so soon
Persistence where at thou?
Endurance thou has expired?
MIND HEART SOUL
THOU HAVE MOVED ON
The pondering is no more

             Yoma Eshemitan

 
 

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BLOOD ON MY PILLOW

Blood on my pillow, I guess I fought in my dreams. Blood on my pillow, Nothing is what it seems.

Was I murdered in my sleep? Have I morphed into a ghost? Did the bullet sink deep, To send me to the Lord of hosts?

Reality is a phantasm Life is an apparition The truth becomes sarcasm And my enemies turn to derision

Blood on my pillow, Has my life come to an end? Liquid spills off the edge- Will another chance, my Creator lend?

My heart burns with regret As I gaze at my mortal host Russian Roulette and a bet Last night, my enemies had a toast

Blood on my pillow, I guess I fought in my dreams Irony of existence- Nothing is what it seems.

Written By Clinton Durueke

 
 

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A THROWBACK TO THE FUTURE

If my legs slip to today from tomorrow
Would I be stuck and be lost forever in eternal sorrow
Or would I be happy for the joyful for the steps I took and followed
For this reason, these thoughts I borrow

The present presents a lunar Eclipse
And the future unseen drinking from the dissatisfying chalice
With the far past harboring poisonous malice
O, my soul! Drink from skull of wisdom
And let your feet follow the path of Freedom

The fear of the unknown grips my soul
And the fright of evil, my uttermost
May I let the light lead my path without a sway
May my foot not lead me the other way.

 

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Girl In The Mirror 

The Girl in the mirror
This is me
Not sure of rebound
What I see
Nothing like who I want to be
My reflection
My subconscious
Yet no hiding
My rebound
My transient
Appalled by who I see
On four, the saint I was
On two, what I see
On three, will it be different?
The illusion and the changes
I dread the future
The face in the mirror
Pierce my heart
A long for innocence
Absence of youthful lust
I am you
It is me I see
Divine creature
Earthly made
It is me
My reflection and the mirror
It is who I am
Girl in the mirror

 

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New Muse

His smile.
Not the first thing I noticed but definitely something I want to see

There’s something that drives me crazy about him

His peculiar and demure nature; his refreshing aura

How he listens to my endless banter

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Poem By Samuel Abu

There is the Swift

There is the strong

Yet,  we race like we’re in a theft

Chased by nothing but we throng-

Forward, perhaps to meet a demise unknown

Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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