Zikdik:

I couldn't skip this. Can't fault it either. Nice.

Wow!!
Thanks.

MORE POEMS LOADING
I'm getting there

My deductions:
1) You're limiting your genre to love and rejection. It's going to get stale. You have to be innovative and explore other concepts.
2) The length of the poems are not encouraging. Poetry is all about expressing yourself. Research. Prepare. Choose your words. Write until you exhaust your creativity.
3) Try to give your work a story. A plot that is visible from start to finish. It gives your poem the drop-me-not touch.
Overall, good job.

Life is not a solitaire
Neither is it an island
But my own has become empty and desolate
Like the desert in the forest

Everyone avoids me like plaque
A plaque capable of destroying people
In an attempt to injure the palm-tree,the tappers cut the climbing
In an attempt to punish me,people shut me down.

Do i stinks??
Am i unlovable??
Am i from another planet??
A planet allergyic to love??

I've done abominable thing in the past YES!
Dont i deserve a second chance?
I thereby live by stepping backward and forward.
My past lacks kolanut,present lacks oil and my future will lack salt.

If loneliness truly kills,i ought to be dead by now.
I guess it's coming slowly,atleast i will be able to rest away from the earth that lacks love
Human's heart is more deadly than a virus,once closed,it never opens

Zikdik,thanks for your corrections

I will definitely make amendments

pls review the last poem

i wrote it in haste tho'

I'm a sorry flower
I'm a parasitic virus
I'm a destructive hibiscus
I'm a cursed vinegrape.

I'm the dreadful demon
I'm the land that doesnt sustain it's inhabitant
I'm the hill that yields poisonous magna
I'm the darkness that squelchs the light

I'm the disease that troubles people
I'm the wealth-lake in drought and the desert that paints an ugly scenerio
I'm the plaque that people avoids
I'm the fowl that perched on a rope,

Sleep has become an aliens to me,just like the man who swallows pestle.
My ugly and dark past came haunting me
I've turned the river water to blood-red
My hands stained with blood,will it ever be cleansed??

Will i know peace again??
Will they ever forgive me??
Those i deliberately caused pains??
Will,i ever be calm??
Well,time will tell!

The last poem was inspired by a robber who i was able to speak to,he has done unprintable things and now he's disturbed.


zikdik->your reviews pls??

kitnah:
I'm a sorry flower
I'm a parasitic virus
I'm a destructive hibiscus
I'm a cursed vinegrape.

I'm the dreadful demon
I'm the land that doesnt sustain it's inhabitant
I'm the hill that yields poisonous magna
I'm the darkness that squelchs the light

I'm the disease that troubles people
I'm the wealth-lake in drought and the desert that paints an ugly scenerio
I'm the plaque that people avoids
I'm the fowl that perched on a rope,

Sleep has become an aliens to me,just like the man who swallows pestle.
My ugly and dark past came haunting me
I've turned the river water to blood-red
My hands stained with blood,will it ever be cleansed??

Will i know peace again??
Will they ever forgive me??
Those i deliberately caused pains??
Will,i ever be calm??
Well,time will tell!

I'm really trying not to be too emotional. I'd review very soon

Zikdik:

I'm really trying not to be too emotional. I'd review very soon

ok

kitnah:
I'm a sorry flower
I'm a parasitic virus
I'm a destructive hibiscus
I'm a cursed vinegrape.

I'm the dreadful demon
I'm the land that doesnt sustain it's inhabitant
I'm the hill that yields poisonous magna
I'm the darkness that squelchs the light

I'm the disease that troubles people
I'm the wealth-lake in drought and the desert that paints an ugly scenerio
I'm the plaque that people avoids
I'm the fowl that perched on a rope,

Sleep has become an aliens to me,just like the man who swallows pestle.
My ugly and dark past came haunting me
I've turned the river water to blood-red
My hands stained with blood,will it ever be cleansed??

Will i know peace again??
Will they ever forgive me??
Those i deliberately caused pains??
Will,i ever be calm??
Well,time will tell!

I really don't care about the poetry. The message is pretty clear and sometimes, that's what really matters. I don't know. I really don't. Robbery is purely sociopathic. It is barbaric and unsocial. But sometimes, people deserve a second chance to prove they can right their wrongs and do good things. But I'm a respecter of the sanctity of life by career and dispensation. I'm all for second chances.
Its a good thing you worked on length. Try to pull it a bit more. Improve on your lyrics as well. You're doing very well.

Zikdik:

I really don't care about the poetry. The message is pretty clear and sometimes, that's what really matters. I don't know. I really don't. Robbery is purely sociopathic. It is barbaric and unsocial. But sometimes, people deserve a second chance to prove they can right their wrongs and do good things. But I'm a respecter of the sanctity of life by career and dispensation. I'm all for second chances.
Its a good thing you worked on length. Try to pull it a bit more. Improve on your lyrics as well. You're doing very well.

THANK YOU SO MUCH

I am sorry
I know you are hurting
Your heart has been broken
Floods of tears your face have seen
Betrayal has never been this great
Friends say you don't deserve this
Yet tis your heart that bleeds
I'm sorry you're pained
You’re disappointed, without hope
All the trust given has crumbled
You opt to walk away from love itself
Never to give your heart to no one
else
Tis ok to feel the pain, to vent your
fury
But dare not walk away from love
Do not allow pain to enslave you
Mourn the loss but for a while
Some things are passing seasons
Lest you be a captive of your own
heart
Spend your days crying for yester
years
While happiness watch you in sorrow
I am sorry tis your turn to wail
Such a pain! Your tears should be
bloody
You could swear your heart has
cracked
Pain that coils and cause you to
collapse
I promise in time wounds will mend
If you let it be, so shall your pain
heal
Do not rush to burn the bridges
Tis not wise to pretend nothing
happened
Day by day dump them one by one
Wave goodbye to creeping thoughts
Wipe your tears and search for a smile
Then one day it will be a laughter

NwannekaUloma:
I am sorry
I know you are hurting
Your heart has been broken
Floods of tears your face have seen
Betrayal has never been this great
Friends say you don't deserve this
Yet tis your heart that bleeds
I'm sorry you're pained
You’re disappointed, without hope
All the trust given has crumbled
You opt to walk away from love itself
Never to give your heart to no one
else
Tis ok to feel the pain, to vent your
fury
But dare not walk away from love
Do not allow pain to enslave you
Mourn the loss but for a while
Some things are passing seasons
Lest you be a captive of your own
heart
Spend your days crying for yester
years
While happiness watch you in sorrow
I am sorry tis your turn to wail
Such a pain! Your tears should be
bloody
You could swear your heart has
cracked
Pain that coils and cause you to
collapse
I promise in time wounds will mend
If you let it be, so shall your pain
heal
Do not rush to burn the bridges
Tis not wise to pretend nothing
happened
Day by day dump them one by one
Wave goodbye to creeping thoughts
Wipe your tears and search for a smile
Then one day it will be a laughter

Good one.

thanks dear

NwannekaUloma:
thanks dear

Nice poem u got there

love it!!

kitnah:

Nice poem u got there

love it!!

It's going to be a free weekend. Do give me a theme I can write on so I can contribute to this wonderful thread.

Zikdik:

It's going to be a free weekend. Do give me a theme I can write on so I can contribute to this wonderful thread.

Cool

"heartbroken"

"death as a debt we must pay"

"freedom"#

"burnt food"

Just pick one

Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Am I really the smartest of them all?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Will I find true love at all?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
When will stop hurting inside?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Why am I always on the wrong side?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Is it Juliet or maybe, may?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Do I really have to go all the way?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who am I? I really must know.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Left or right, which way to go.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Why do I have to care?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Why is Life never fair?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
This is what I want to know
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who is my friend? Who is my foe?
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
To finally cap it all
Mirror, Mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest of them all?

An old man once told me a story
Of a land, fruitful and a people, merry
Of a king who always wore a purple cloak
Of his Ballard who always sang folk
Of his chiefs who wore fine laces
Of their hands adorned with golden maces
Of their stocky and manly carriage
Of their judgement, fair, however mild or savage
Of the men of this land, valiant
Of their wisdom and foresight, savant
Of their visage, groomed and well-kept
Of their minds, set with a mindset
Of the women and their fidelity
Of their renowned and celebrated piety
Of their exquisite and ravishing beauty
Of the culinary delicacies-delicious and bounty
Of the youth of this land, hardworking
Of their strength and valor, vociferously striking
Of their greatest might, mental
Of their wisdom, almost transcendental
Of their land, admired far and wide
Of their children, ever glad, by their parent's side
And as my mind began to wander fro and yonder
The Old man told me a tale, yet, another
Then, this old man told me another story
Of a land, barren and a people, dreary
Of a king who always wore dyed-blue cloak
Of his Ballard who never sang folk
Of his chiefs who wore faded laces
Of their hands blistered with thorny maces
Of their frail and weak carriage
Of their judgement, prejudicial and savage
Of the men of this land, cowardly
Of their wisdom, in nature, measly
Of their visage, haggard and untoward
Of their minds, unstable and froward
Of the women of this land and their unfaithfulness
Of their infamous and ignoble lasciviousness
Of their disgustingly uninviting ugliness
Of the stench of their pots in all of its maliciousness
Of the youth of this land, lazy
Of their strength and valor, hazy
Of their greatest weakness, stupidity
Of their wisdom, almost a nonentity
Of the Children of this land, always sad
Away from callous mum and Dad
At this point, I broke down
My heart bled for the people of this town
Who is to be praised for the blessedness of the first?
Or be blamed for the curse of the next?

Kitnah..you can comment on them. Don't try to be nice.

This is awesome,i mean,i cant fault if at all
The length is moderate
Riched with metaphor and imagery

Nice work sir

kitnah:
This is awesome,i mean,i cant fault if at all
The length is moderate
Riched with metaphor and imagery

Nice work sir

Thank you. Sir? That's funny.

The world is full of second chances so i think you deserve one
the poem is a nice piece and i believe there is room for improvement

vcume:
The world is full of second chances so i think you deserve one
the poem is a nice piece and i believe there is room for improvement

THANKS!!

**yawns**

It been long I dropped something o

kitnah:
Give me a chance
Give me a chance
because i'm human
And i reek imperfection
Do not judge me by my past
Try judging me with my present.

Give me a chance
because it's a brand new me
the old me has gone
I've dispatch my old vices
I now breath love and peace

Give me a chance
Nothing can be compared
To the guilt i felt inside
I really want you to see
The changes in me.

Give me a chance
I'm so lonely and depressed
Your love and kindness is
All i craved for
Help me to let go of my fears

Give me a chance
Dear,i'm so sorry
take me back pls
The heart knows what it want
A second chance is all i yawn for

Hi kitnah, you write well but not without little flaws. Always start first letters in each line with capital letter. Also, take note of punctuations. keep on writing them.

noblecares

noble4d:


Hi kitnah, you write well but not without little flaws. Always start first letters in each line with capital letter. Also, take note of punctuations. keep on writing them.

noblecares

Aww,thanks!!

Kindly review my other poems

Same applies to other poems of yours. Try bringing your audience closer, let them feel the flavours and messages portrayed. Poetry is about expressing ur innermost feelings, ideas and thoughts. You vividly also need to adequately present a form that will represent ur work. Is it free verse, blank verse e.t.c. Go on research, read and study poems of great poet and poetess, you'll definitely improve.

noblecares.

hello kitnah

Give me a chance
Dear,i'm so sorry
take me back pls
The heart knows what it want
A second chance is all i yawn for

[/quote]

He’s always been afraid.
She was always petrified.
They both always craved control,
They were similar in that way,
We all are.
You know,
Something I‘ve been meaning to tell you is that
The devil isn’t red and he doesn't have horns.
He’s got brown eyes and a charming smile.
He won’t lead you to do evil things,
And he won’t make your life hell.
No,
He will make you do that yourself.
His role?
He’s there to comfort you,
Bring you in,
Hold you close,
He will tell you that he can save you,
Only him.
“Without him, you’re nothing.”
You’re worthless, he’s made you believe it.
“You’re lucky to have him.”
He’s a parasite.
He will say anything to make you stay.
He’s afraid.
And another thing,
She isn’t all scars and sad poems.
There are stars hidden in her lungs
That she whispers into sweet poetry
Hoping that one line, just one, will be enough.
She won’t write you into stanzas,
She won’t be your muse.
No,
You’ve been poetry this whole time.
Her role?
She’s there to make art,
To feel every emotion
Deeper than the bottles she drinks to make them go away.
She will write,
She will turn him into midnight poems
And cries to be set free
From all of this.
“Darling, the moon doesn't shine for you.”
She understands this and he won't accept it.
“You’re the only poem I know how to write.”
She’s a poet.
She will do anything to make him stay.
She’s petrified.
He tore her down and bruised her soul,
And she turned him into art.
The world might not remember how she felt,
But they will read her poems and know,
The devil isn’t red and he doesn't have horns.
He’s got brown eyes and a charming smile.
And
She isn’t all scars and sad poems.
There were stars hidden in her lungs
That she whispered into sweet poetry.
He was afraid,
And she was petrified,
We all are.

Kitnah, noble4d