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Monday, 28 February 2011

Shoe Business


A price for a shoe
Too big for her toes
That is just, a  lady and shoes


"I have got to have it
These shoes to my feet"
Oh, what is a girl to do





Sunday, 27 February 2011

A Way With Words


The old word typewriter 
He had a way with words
Quietly sat post, past his prime

Nothing fancy just letters on keys
Staged, mounted  on wood of fancy 
Named royal for in his day, glorious stood 

He was royal and dear
Majestically it made sounds, echoing the room 
Like foot steps of  giants on a stampede

With every push of the keypad
Decibals of vibration announced 
It made music, no one tried dancing to


Fright for the typos
How many pages thrown down scrap heap
The forest stood with fear


Imagination had to have a pass with words
Yet in his day, many a word were sang aloud
Today quietly it rests, renamed antiquate

Saturday, 26 February 2011

The Fools Gold


The fool sees treasures
In all things that sparkles
The fool is always left with mirage

Sailing The Seas

All aboard! Two nameless tag boats 
Pulls on history celebrated Richelieu / Palo
With stories told, of once upon a time 


Young once will marvel at adventures
Wish they were there, to sail the sea a' ride it waves
Mimic acts of Captain Cook or Black beard


In Bristol seats
Isambard  Kingdom Brunel SS-Great Britain 
All mighty a' powerful, the  biggest in the old dock 


Today, these days, she is old and fragile 
She lives only on past glory, sat on illusion of waters deep
But like an old gran, she is much loved by the kids 


Who in characters does one play, the kids should be
All aboard! on props set for imagination run
Captain Cook, Black beard, or Christopher Colombo; 


All aboard !
For a voyage of imagination's ride
Someone tell us the stories of  old adventure



Friday, 25 February 2011

The Religion Of Hearts

Love is blind 
And lovers can not see 

How many colours does the heart possess 
How many emotions drawn from it's pockets  
Where shades of darkness do belong 


If religion is not to be understood 
What of the heart, in temples of worship 
Where love is religion, and it is religion 


And religion of the heart is worshipped
In the eyes of the faithful, love has to be blind  
A dozen prophecies are seen, in abstract


How many meanings can be of essence
Is it for the love or for the pain, 
It burns in vellicate on emotions drag 


For faith or prophecy 
Who holds crystal balls 
To be told of the future by the sightless oracle 


Which side of the heart, holds pain
Which side does hold love
Which side of the heart is set aside for hate 


A collage of the heart, seats like religious symbols
Sends out, tell tell signs of heat signal senses
Is this how I am to understand the heart 

In abstract essence, like religious stands
And faith is said to hold belief,  it has to 
That is all we are to go on by for love has to be blind 


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Weekend Vibe

Something on the light side, nice side
Something with a tingle, tickle, wiggle 
Something on the smile side; and it goes, like this


Down the week to the (lemon) tree that stands
Alone on field walks for rest , bench below, rest below
Shades from branches that gravitates to earth


Monday feels like five steps from mountain stand
But for the prof, slowly he rains on sunny days
And on and on and on, he bores the life out of man


Oh Friday come quick by 5 after 9
Set me free on weekend joy, love ones wait 
Sleep late and wake late, teas with breakfast in beds


And be slow with your time, please be slow, oh chill time
As I indulge with joy, the fun of weekend's vibe
Before Sunday's curtains draws in, please be slow Sir

Thursday, 24 February 2011

The Closed Doors Part 3/3



Conscience of the know
Sits in thoughts of  the archived files
If only the priest will hear my confessions 
Before the awakening of my selfish sleep


Where man of self preservation 
Lies in comfort sleep, replenishing the holy grail 
While sight of  the daily know, ignored
Comes back to haunt the night


But the priest can not hear my thoughts; 
He says “this is not what he signed up for” 
The best he offers is a prayer for the dying man 
A few references made along the line of chit chat


“May the lord have mercy on their souls” 
The priest is not ready for my confessions
And the tears, and mercy to be felt, 
For the destitute


Are not enough to go around 
They weigh too much on burden, 
Like crosses carried of another man


So in a little while after empathy 
These doors of see, hear and know
Will become closed doors 


On instinct of self preservation
Another sight, is just around the corner
Another hear, see and know
The priest is not ready for my confessions 
  
Shared with: The Thursday Think Tank http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, 23 February 2011

The Closed Doors Part 2/3





I am not the worst of a kind
I am to be a man of goodness
A chance of humanity 
That justifies, man from beast. 


But still the priest, with symbolic figure(s )
Will not hear my confessions; 
In closed doors, behind curtains, he says 
“he did not sign up for this, reversed juicy hear”


My sub conscience comes to life
In the early hours of dawn
When all that is heard 
Is the Owl's call in surrealisms of hall ways


In strange sounds, of stress awakening
In near distance background
Like human cry, haunted 
Intimately heard in echoes


In the early years,
Of a new day's birth
When the earth manages 
To catch a breath, 


Before the voice of man, is heard again,
Turning words in juicy spin, bashing verses
Distorting in coded fragmentation
Diffusing reasons, with blurred versions


And still to confess to the deafness of hear
The blindness of sight
Be the one to carry your burden
I don't want to know, I am only human

Shared with: http://www.threewordwednesday.com/

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

The Closed Doors Part 1/3



I can not confess, for the priest will not hear my cry
He says in protest, this is not what he signed up for;
“I am only human it is better to leave such words
 for the hear and ears, eyes of the after life,
let them be the judging priest, go with peace my son”


And in halls of the asylum, in puzzles of  reality
There are always doors that stay locked
The Shrinks are adamant, in strong beliefs
They are better off  locked and left to their own
In such sweet sorrow, out of sight


No medicine can bring those ones back
And for this, his medicine does not profess
To being a miracles cure, he confesses
At least not for all of men


I am not the worst of a kind, not yet to be stoned
Others dwarf my weakness in thoughts 
In deeds, in skeletons buried, in riches gained
And still the priest refuses to hear,
In ears my confessions, in the early hours of dawn

Notes: This is abstract, even to myself, because every time
I analyse it, it comes to me from a different light
and the meaning changes with each view point


Shared with: http://onestoppoetry.com/
and http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Monday, 21 February 2011

Earth Voices

How can you stub me 
Six times and tell me not to bleed
I bleed blood, thick clot 
Mixed with sweat, ejected from pores


I am with value 
Bestowed on me from birth 
Just before my umbilical cord
Separates me from mother 


You see, tell the suppressors
We are not people of class or race, religion
We are people of conciousness
Intelligence, we are earth people


We are people of reason
We are the movement without borders
Voices, free voices, for the rights of man
For the child that bleeds, for the riches of greed


We are charity of reason, opened doors in hall ways conciousness
And we bleed blood, so we feel their pain
We match a mile, in miles, on miles for the reason
And know to raise our voice for the course 


How can you tell me not to bleed
When I can sense their pain 
Hear their cry, sympathise with reason
We are earth people, we bleed for the course 

Sunday, 20 February 2011

For The Silent Gone

Empathy brings to mind old souls 
To honour pillars,  foundations of humanity
For theirs was with loving soul, a loving soul 


An inspiration
He who knew them, knew their care
He who loved them, loved their spirit, their passion


If they could be here today
They did have plenty to say
Just in few words, for they were with proverbs wisdom


As the wise do say
If  the  old souls could be here  this day 
I did have plenty to utter in words to their ears


In appreciation of what road paths they took me on
Our hearts are filled with sorrow of loss
But our joy is to celebrate what life they lived.


And I stand not to share tears of an end
But to say farewell until we meet again,
I will carry the chalice of your souls, your existence 


And your life will live, forever in my memory
This is not to cry sorrow, but to cry joy 
This is to celebrate lives lived


This is to honour old heroes
When  finally new lights wake in unknown world
Know I light a candle to honour your souls here
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Saturday, 19 February 2011

Before Tomorrow

Invention of the wheel
For progression is process of ends
Factory belts and the clock ticks
Man needs speed, before tomorrows order


But down in Ipswich on this day
Time out for time capture
Child plays, and work men
For before tomorrow, we will all be gone


The children will be grown
And the old will be no more
The stars will be turned in transformation
Into our grandchildren and great gran


So time out, for a while 
While time capsules 
Are filled to the brim
With treasures of our lives 


Before tomorrow will be no more
Our energy of life, breathe
Given back to the wind
As ghost of once life


So take a step back, fix up with pride
Adjust your angle, for your better side
The camera light, Just before the flash light goes
And before tomorrow we will be no more 

Shared with: http://sepiasaturday.blogspot.com 

The Blues

The blues
Others call it, the calm down
Days after the before 
And during the act "se fini "


Valentine came with it's entourage
Cupid hanged in toe, tagged along
Jumping on high, like bunny rabbits on heat


Afrodisiac caused by chocolates and  red wine
The climax, roses on floors, cherry popped
Love has a physical side


So  now  mid week, mind me say into week end
Like hang over, take over
Reality and its day to day activities


Utopia is replaced by the boring 
Someone knocked on my door
He plays the violin 


Bubble burst in sudden motion 
Eyes without see to show empathy 
Like men in black, Darth Vader in suits


Heart beats with fear, 
Sudden loss of self 
Oh mine that is the baliff 

Friday, 18 February 2011

Death Of The Autotune



Nothing has changed ,since the summer of 96
With gun shots, spells an end to life
Youngins still shanking in estate codes, post codes
Mourners, mourn the loss of  loved ones
Nothing has changed since the summer of 96


We've all,  just aged a bit
Still loving the same music
Still taking sides
Still left with questions
Who was better?


Still Wondering
What would life be like
If they just stayed at home that day
Still falling in love 
And out of love and back in love


Nothing has changed
Since the summer of 96
Just a few new names 
On the billboard 
Nothing has changed 
In loving memory 

http://wordsinsync.blogspot.com/

Thursday, 17 February 2011

A Part Of Me



A part of me, wants to see the world
A part of me wants to stay out in the woods
Sleep the night under its canopy, climb mountains 

See the moon light, turn the earth golden ray
Sense the chill of the mid night hour
Feel the dew, embrace the new day  

A part of me, wants to stay at home
Feel the comfort, a sense of safety
Here no one pulls my strings

Here I am safe, in my mother's womb
Cradled and protected
Here I am safe

Comfort is relativity
And the world can live without me
And I can be safe in my bubble

But a part of me wants to see the world
Know the world, feel its glory
Know its beauty, know its pain

Yet the greatest draw back
Is the doubt, that lingers within
The mind is a dangerous thing

The mind is a beautiful thing
And my heart yearns, and my mind knows
A part of me wants, to see the world


Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Things Fall Apart



When blink, things fall apart
And we down, and we broke on occasion
Like hamty, dumty, on the floor, panting 


But I man, me man, kind man
Made of, stronger stuff, am phoenix
I'm bird like, I'm flying higher    


I don't have time for the pain, it's painless
I don't have time for the bullshit
It's bullshit, you bullshit  


I don't have time for the regrets
You fading, memory, mind over matter
Bye bye, you gone now


I breath breathe of a new day
I'm new born, reborn 
Like rasta, am conscious, jah now


You see, I man, am shading excess 
Detox, wasteness, chains off 
 I am grown now, new man

And I don't have time for, the empty, falseness
He's barrels, are empty, nosier 
Louder shushhh now, quite place, quit now 


I don't have time for the bullshit
It's bullshit, enough of that
I don't have time for the fuss
It's fuse blown, done 

Shared with: http://www.threewordwednesday.com/
Note: The picture is of an interesting book written
by a Nigeria author Chinua Achebe 

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Needle and Hay Do, I Do

It's amazing, stood in maze fields puzzling
Marvelling, 6 million lives, do maths 
And I still found my own, do call it my own


To fit in puzzles of quest, 
Click inserted to where it belongs
It's amazing, really do pro-founding


Like finding  water wells in the middle of desolation
Deserted by the rains to quench my thirst
I am thirsty, starving shrinking, do thirst


My life line, heart monitor makes sounds 
Like blep, blep, blep, drum beats
Food is to feast gauge with do greed


Salt shakers 
Excite taste buds, any food, lust
Yum-yum, yummys on belly do full 


But for you my life line on tasted aqua
My dry lips shivers for your attention
To become my deity, do worship 


Said it's amazing,
Finding needles camouflaged in hay stack 
A few trails and errors on quest, do walked


Imitators on first to show hands 
Rectangles imitating squares, pentagon do circles
In the end,  fruitless, endless tries but truth be told, do tell


On rejected products, standard that are set
Still stands, ISO 9000 and the likes
So it's amazing, really  do pro-founding


How it came to be
Bestowed in existence
How quest found the heart's do tender


Shared with: Onestoppoetry http://onestoppoetry.com/
and Magpie Tales http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Note: I got carried away with the "do" and couldn't do stop
So do read it with the do or without the do, do.. :)

Monday, 14 February 2011

For Valentine's Birth

I waked with a blanket surrounding me
My night was filled with warmth 
My egg incubated  through winter
And on this day I was born with wings


My coming has been awaited  
Red roses and cards, cakes, chocolates and wine
My presence has been longed for
I have been ushered into this world, royal 


Angels and stars, blends into my wrap around 
Joy bestowed on smiles; giggles, second blush
Today we can celebrate love, my heart beat 
Birthdays of valentine, cupid wore nappies 


Today we can share our love, red roses, tulips, 
Bouquets and all that preference desire
Melted chocolates, strawberry, raspberry; feast on
Apples and passion fruits, blackberry
If I had one wish, today we would profess our love


Shared with : Carryontuesday http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/
Thursdaypoetrally: http://thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.blogspot.com/

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Kangaroo Suits



I bumped into you, 
Hanged like a kangaroo hold
My love heart skipped 

Graffiti On Nature

Colosseums and pyramids, 
Stands as footprints of man
I was here, we were here 
Like graffiti  written on college walls  


Yea, back in the day, them days
I was here, and made my stand
Everything else is silent now 
The choir is without voice now


Old tales, sits in archived memories
Like a genie in a bottle 
I wrote a love letter and placed it in a bottle
I sent it to sea, and wished you did find it 


This is my graffiti on the land scape 
A half broken wall and an old window frame
Yet through the window, blue skies and landscapes
The world can be seen of romance 


Hope you find this place, my little paradise 
And read my inscriptions, graffiti on walls
I was here, we were here, full circle 
Adwoa and Kodjo with love 


This is my graffiti on nature 
My genie in a bottle, I left a bottle at sea
Hope you; seeker of my heart, finds it and let it out 
I found a spot for you and I, where I first laid eyes on you 

Saturday, 12 February 2011

The Dancing Joromi



Today I saw an epiphany, Joromi in the shop window
Hanging on a doll, sat on a Victorian rest
Cinderella's shoes and a necklace to match
Joromi looked alive, incandescent bursting with excitement

She moved on pause, pulse, in a beautiful, butterfly print 
She had a heavenly spirit, that drew on my hunger
Today I saw Joromi in the shop window
Next to her, stood such adoring dancing shoes 

So tonight, when the bells go din dong, in moon light show
I will be at the ball room, with Joromi
Ready to dance  my tango and foxtrot
Dance my High-life, to win the heart of my love

Today I saw Joromi in the shop window
Tonight I will become one with Joromi
And dance the night before dawn
Today I will win my lovers heart


And take Joromi home with me 
Today I saw Joromi in the shop window 
Tonight Joromi would share my bed 
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Friday, 11 February 2011

Wild Stallion



Silk lay hanged on wheat fields 
She stood captivating with dancing in the wind 
The sun out, the calm winds  
Blows to give flight 


Silk delicately lay hang on leaves   
Such grace, she holds, she bares 
This thus gives it, its beauty  
A beauty adored, only of her kind 


Through the windows of my eyes 
I see such beauty, vulnerability 
She sits like a fairy creature 
Blows happiness in the air, with dance
Delicately expressed like the butterfly wings


And I yearn to have presence in here realm
She holds purity, she holds love
The winds are perfect in her world
I hope I guard her sanctity 
It is my wish to do so


I am sure, I am up to the task 
I itch to do so, with vigour 
Yet I fear I come with rougher winds
On the backs of wild stallions 


It threatens to blow her off her hang, 
Her utopia in paradise  
I hope I guard her sanctity
I fear I may bring her pain 
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Thursday, 10 February 2011

Awakening Shadows



I see you on the walls, shades, shadows
Sometimes at night, when the rage of day is silent  
And I  am awaken by fright with shiver 
I see you in the corner of my room, poised


On the side of my eyes
On the shapes of projection, I walked past
Made by objects, on sunny days
Cast on the other side of the moon 


I always wondered, like love and its essence 
As a child, what you meant, such mystery 
Then as an adult, I forgot all about you
Seems science had explained your existence


But every now and then in apparition you manifest
You come to life again, the beauty of you, still with mystery
When science is made speechless
Without such blunt, arrogant words, of know  


And the heart sees in art
Something tells me, there is more 
Than I know; to the mystery of you 
Like love and it's essence, beauty bestowed 
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