Tag: rhyme

MASOCHISTS, by Poetry by Kyle Jones

Your masters,
sick;
masochists.
Savages wrapped
in lavish masks,

Genre: Dark, Rhythmic, Deep

Masochists
by Kyle Jones

Your masters,
sick;
masochists.
Savages wrapped
in lavish masks,
the past unraveled it.
We’ve traveled
backwards,
cataract contact,
laughs with
con-act actors.
Intact cause our dad’s
dads were bastards.
We backtracked paths
and sat on past answers.
Planned for the damned
and we laughed at disaster.

 

 

 

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Genius In Me, Poetry by Thato Pricey Ratlotlong

I intend to reach the universe without losing my soul

I’m the Great Grandson of the Forefathers

Like those four sons who were left by their four fathers

I will claim & protect my birth right

From the East to the West, its dawn then comes night

Genre: Rhyme, History, Identity

 

Genius In Me

 

I intend to reach the universe without losing my soul

I’m the Great Grandson of the Forefathers

Like those four sons who were left by their four fathers

I will claim & protect my birth right

From the East to the West, its dawn then comes night

 

The soil keeps the flash of those before us

We can’t all speak the so called universal language

Its jewel that brightens up our Africa

Before the sun came to pass.

Trust in your native self, and write the next page

 

We are caged, by our thoughts

We are lost! We can’t see the Genius in Us

Their tombs are engraved the words that fought

Our weakness

The Pyramids sculptured that which is taught

Our inventions

Fallen Kings, still cry for their kingdoms

They never trusted the Genius in Us

 

Tremor shook, we stood

Unveiling the thoughts we never understood

Encrypt the codes of poverty

Decode the codes of poetry

Revising the education Africa taught

Regain the genius you lost

I Am the Great Grandson of our Forefathers,

Genes of their Nature is with Me,

I Am the fruit birthed by our Godly Mothers

I have their Genius In Me
– Thato Ratlotlong

 

Twitter: @Priceythato

 

 

 

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Porphyria’s Lover, Poetry by Arnab Dey

Walking down the alley,

Suddenly felt a strange wave;

She was strolling towards me,

Fresh out of the grave!

Genre: Rhyme, Sexy, Relationship, Romance

 

Porphyria’s Lover by Arnab Dey

 

1

 

Walking down the alley,

Suddenly felt a strange wave;

She was strolling towards me,

Fresh out of the grave!

 

Her hair was still unkempt,

But her flesh was so intact;

Closer cometh her,

To make an eye contact.

 

Her beauty’s inexplicable,

Beyond my wild fantasy;

Then we’re behind my stone,

To find utmost secrecy.

 

And then I kissed her perfect lips,

And touched her mind & soul;

And then she lifted my spirit,

And my body came along as a whole.

 

And we’d both spirited away,

Traversed through the drunken street;

Onlooking on all the rendezvous,

And deciding where again to meet.

 

 

2

 

Good morning dear,

It’s another day,

Try to get some sleep,

While Sun is in its full glory!

 

Good Afternoon baby,

Are you half-asleep now?

Sunlight is still out there

And church is having its last call.

 

Good evening sweetheart,

Wake up! Wake up!

Let’s start our holy night

While city’s busy relaxing.

 

Good night lover,

Hold my hand and fly away,

Touch all the graves on the way,

It’s time to spread the joy!

 

 

 

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Life: A Writer’s Purgatory, Poetry by Lauren Kruczyk

I’ve survived the labyrinth of trial and error,
and have concededly accepted the nomenclature
of a writer in either timid self-proclamation
or through overly proud avail.

Genre: Artist, Rhyme, Life

Life: A Writer’s Purgatory
by Lauren Kruczyk

I’ve survived the labyrinth of trial and error,
and have concededly accepted the nomenclature
of a writer in either timid self-proclamation
or through overly proud avail.

Though the words do not yet slide
off the tongue in quite the way I’d like,
I have,
once or twice,
believed the words to be true.

I stagger, rejection mocking me,
wallowing in self-pity,
as I envision with such banality
the proud smirk of those who believe they possess such talent.

But without this treachery,
one could not be a writer;
the all-encompassing double-edged sword.

It is a rare skill
to strike a sensible balance
between hope and lack of delusion.

Those foolish enough to herald self-righteous decree
and clench tightly to a proud belief
that there is no room for improvement in their work
have already failed.

These fools will “comfort” you‚
that I know for sure.
A special kind of compassion served with a hearty dose of pity and a sprinkle of condescension.

I often wonder what this bliss must feel like;
pouring our souls into the world,
yet never truly at peace.
We crave notoriety; yet live as hermits.
We want to possess humility, yet feel deeply special;
like no one else in the world.

And with that creeps in undeniable tragedy;
the weight of our pain intends to break us.

A catch-22 it is;
our troubles arrive as if they were a magnetic force.
But if backed into a corner,
a writer will forever choose tragedy.
That is our cross to bear.

Yet in the slight moments when we rise to a purer place,
we settle upon the realization
that through every teardrop,
the vast feeling of emptiness
must be worth it after all.

 

 

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Man of the Marshes, Poetry by Kim M. Russell

Squelching through the muddy marshes,

Entanglements of grass and reeds,

He swipes at bolshy bulrushes,

Crumbles the heads into white seeds.

Genre: Rhyme, Ballad, Society

 

Man of the Marshes by Kim M. Russell

 

Squelching through the muddy marshes,

Entanglements of grass and reeds,

He swipes at bolshy bulrushes,

Crumbles the heads into white seeds.

 

Entanglements of grass and reeds

Bending, breaking as he strides by,

Crumbles the heads into white seeds,

Tossing them upwards to the sky.

 

Bending, breaking as he strides by,

Pondering the riddle of his pain,

Tossing them upwards to the sky,

The seeds tumble to earth again.

 

Pondering the riddle of his pain,

Feet planted in muddy marshes,

Soaked to the skin in pouring rain,

His heart is full of bulrushes.

 

Feet planted in muddy marshes,

Entangled in the grass and reeds,

His heart is full of bulrushes,

His head crumbling into white seeds.

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

 

 

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GOD’S Pursuit, Poetry by BW 4 Christ

My prayers need answers

Answers that I seek

For a strong soul that is often meek

That pursuit doesn’t always take me to YOUR book

Genre: Rhyme, Spiritual

GOD’S Pursuit by BW 4 Christ

 

My prayers need answers

Answers that I seek

For a strong soul that is often meek

That pursuit doesn’t always take me to YOUR book

For I never know where to look

Sometimes it’s in the course of a day

That the answers come across my way

Other times it’s in YOUR pursuit of me

That you use the things I see

For YOU created me visually

It’s in the trees so strong and tall

It’s written on walls

Maybe a program on TV

Music that strikes the very heart of me

YOUR pursuit, YOUR woo, YOUR courtship, OUR relationship

All depends on the answers that I seek

For that soul that’s strong but often meek

That sometimes needs a wake up call

The cause for that fall

Just so I have no choice but to look up before the ground swallows me whole

And I lose that strong soul

That YOU created from the beginning

Set in a fallen world of free will

That keeps on sinning

Answers that it continuously seeks

A soul forced to be made weak

YOUR pursuit to capture just so YOU can make it free

Looks into the very heart of me

Patiently silently knocks at the door

With hope once more

Expecting just once chance

To break down the walls with no romance

Strongholds that were built in more than one night

Gave the devil his delight

Holding on to the lock and key

Swallowed up everything

No peace, self-control, hope or joy

Permanently scarred grown humans that used to be girls and boys

But that pursuit that YOU do

If we allow ourselves to be captured

We’ll be stuck to YOU

Living life more abundantly

Made whole and free

Strongholds washed away

Peace, joy, hope and all the other good fruit here to stay

No matter if it rains wet

But YOU dry with just YOUR breathe

Cause YOUR pursuit means we have met

That pursuit means the thrill is never gone

Away goes those sad songs

Cause YOU have reached and mended the very heart of me

YOUR pursuit, woo, courtship, relationship says

 

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DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE, Poetry by Charli Day

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

By the muddy bank he stood with bloody hands and ruined suit

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

His reflection locked and murky is not the prince in her fairy story

Genre: Rhyme, Society, Life

DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE by Charli Day

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

By the muddy bank he stood with bloody hands and ruined suit

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

His reflection locked and murky is not the prince in her fairy story

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

For in amongst the weeds and lilies is clasped a ring inscribed forever

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

A cotton shirt with a scent like summer is buried in the earth forever

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

A strand of blonde so pale and gentle, swallowed by the black forever

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

Hands are held in passing water, the crimson slick disperses further

Down by the riverside, hides all the white lies

No reflection, nothing more, just trodden grass by a silent shore

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Murdrum, Poetry by Pym Purnell

The Murdrum law
completed the Norman attack.
Stopping the English
from fighting back.

Genre: Life, Society, Rhyme

Murdrum by Pym Purnell
 
The Murdrum law
completed the Norman attack.
Stopping the English
from fighting back.

Conquest completed
a land occupied.
The English rejected
raped, mutilated, died.

One thousand years on
conquest again.
Erosion of our people
began from within.

Weapons not needed
this invasion is easy.
Racism philosophy
makes natives uneasy.

Racism, equality
a one sided lie.
Take that you English
right in your eye.

 

 

 

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HOW LONG IS FOREVER, Poetry by Eden P. Orbista

It is great to know the person I admired in my teens
Without him knowing that he was my first love way back then
After 43 years of being apart, our path crossed again
Here we are seemed that we’ve known each other since.

Genre: Relationship, Love, Rhyme

HOW LONG IS FOREVER by Eden P. Orbista

It is great to know the person I admired in my teens
Without him knowing that he was my first love way back then
After 43 years of being apart, our path crossed again
Here we are seemed that we’ve known each other since.

Frozen in time, amazing but, all i saw was YOU
The way you were clad in high school uniform,
Boy..Just like the first time i set my eyes on you
Hard to believe but, it is happening, it’s true.

Our candid moments when we’re on the phone
Took us to heights only you and I can fathom
Gosh! We laughed and kidded like teenagers do
Anything we discussed, we’re enlightened too.

I’ve kept you in my heart, there was always a room for you
I felt it that someday we’ve got to share this love, I knew
The love i have long waited for, now it is coming true
Now you’re here to keep this flame in my heart burning, anew.

All these years i consoled my heart, always
Of your thoughts and of forever
It’s scary though to think, …. Yes but, ……how long is forever?
My heart and my mind can’t grasp for the right answer
Now i know that no matter how long it takes,
True love is always worth the wait.

Deep in my heart, i knew this day will come
We’ll hold each other in passionate kiss, in tight embrace
When before my heart was filled with doubts and fears
Now my heart holds a promise and joy that forever is no longer….
Than a heartbeat away, …….a thread of breath to bear.

My first love is now a realization of my true love
Amazing but, this is how fate played on us
Not knowing where we were in the past forty three years,
Yet fate brought us together to stop the tears i shed all these years
The waiting and the longing has came to end, coz forever dictates…..
That no matter how long it takes, true love is always worth the w

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Words from Emmanuel, Poetry by Emmanuel Griggs

I have a passion for the art of word
And the lines and phrases that my heart beats
Always go unheard
From similes and metaphors
The words that I’m about to give you
Will soon sing higher than any chord

Genre: Life, Rhyme

Words from Emmanuel by Emmanuel Griggs

I have a passion for the art of word
And the lines and phrases that my heart beats
Always go unheard
From similes and metaphors
The words that I’m about to give you
Will soon sing higher than any chord
Please believe what I say
My dreams will become the greatest light of day
And when I speak to you that I am before
For me
It’s just another opened door
When I speak these words it’s the most fulfilling ecstasy
But only because of its lack of complexity

I can’t believe l’ve gotten this far
Keeping prying eyes, concluding
That this little black kid is up to par
These are words for Emmanuel from Emmanuel
Manually breathing
Annually
And
You’ll get what I mean
When you bare the burden of being awake
Emmanuel? I have a question
Do you know what’s at stake
Baring the energy of hate
Smiling at what’s fake
Just standing on stage…speaking
Letting the privileged kids give you a number or rate

Now Emmanuel answer me this
Do you remember?
Do you remember the now deceased girl you kissed
Do you remember? Calling Seattle Sundays bliss
I bet you remember avoiding the name calling and fist
I may sound pissed
But it’s only the hours of sleep I’ve missed
ProMISE
Now Emmanuel breath
Be calm
Read the chapter psalms
Not a Christian?
What?!
Emmanuel shame on you
These problems aren’t little anymore
Like stubbing your toe or getting the flu

Emmanuel
Listen!
You’re your best friend
Breath
Now beginning

You can do this

Now Emmanuel…who are you?
I am but a silhouette of who they see on stage

Speaking words that slumber on my heart awaiting awakening
I am but a name within a sea of names
Drifting upon a tide to a shore I’ll soon call my own
I am but a entertainer who’s audience crave a play on words and comfy tones

I am but a bored cloud on the airwaves
Who will sometimes get a bit of rain here and there
I am but a gazelle among the lions
Watching, running, dodging, the cunning
I am but a dream within the mind
Who can disappear at any given time

I am but a novel with no plot
With an infinite amount of pages
That captures, intrigues, and fascinates my readers
I am but a weak illness with enthusiasm
With an accepted fate yet immune to a cure

I am but a male born into a stereotype and statistic
I’m always sad
But still optimistic
I am but what you see as wrong
I am the melody, lyrics, and notes to your least favorite song

I am but a vowel
That’ll never make an A
Longing to close my I’s
Jumping through O after O
Born to the letter E
Yet
Will always stand tall for U
But I’ll sometimes ask Y
Is it worth it?
Do I deserve this?
Is this a privilege?
Have I earned this?

I am but a flower without a stem
Kissed by the earth
Waving farewell to the sky
I am but an ore among the ingots
Awaiting refinery
I am but a torch in the dark place
Illuminating my surrounding area
I am only Emmanuel

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