[center]After rain clouds could be so dull,

Yet, immaculately pure.

A walk through the night could be weird,

Yet, quite interesting.

We hardly know ourselves,

Yet, I could never pass your voice for another.

Come a little closer,

Listen to the melodies my heart chants,

It’s so pure,

Pure like clouds after rain,

Like a lonely walk through the night,

Like those weird but very soulful routine.

That’s what I’ve been doing,

How it’s been,

The synopsis of a life without you,

A confession of a heart deep in solitude,

That which awaits you in a quiet countryside,

Where birds, flowers and I delightfully await you.[/center]

somegurl,
i'll really like some criticism.
really want to work on my wits,
you never know.
stay tight in the room,
nilla, mac and I will love u to.
am i wrong?

Very nice attempt at a love poem Franc. But Mac wins when it comes to love poems.
Dont worry i still love your other poems.

YES!!!!!!

I told you Nilla was an angel from God's right hand; Thanks Nilla.

@Frank

Thanks for the compliments. I wont necessarily consider your last poem a full blown "love" poem . . . .It's more like an "I'll-love-you-better-as-time-flies" poem. . . . If you know what I mean.
I think poems reflect who one is and one's philosophy of life to a good extent. Maybe your personality is a very mellow and nice-tender-hearted nature. In this case, you need not change anything about your poems 'because I feel it inside when I read 'em.

I'm working on philophical writings. Not that I don't like writing love-poems but one has to enter some kind'a love-mood for that, which ain't necessarily healthy ; but besides, one either writes about love, or love-making, which isn't very vast. Romantic poems get the most vibes. I wish I could get those vibes for other poems I write.

But thanks y'all. I appreciate the moment we share.

And to somegirl, my favorite critic, you're awesome.

macalurs: And to somegirl, my favorite critic, you're awesome.

And I had thought I was your favourite female poet. Waiting for the next episode of this poetic love thread ---

somegirl:

And I had thought I was your favourite female poet. Waiting for the next episode of this poetic love thread ---

lol

Not a bad jugde either.
was already thinking about giving it to him.
Mac has a very strong descriptive power.
I'm just trying to work on mine, that's why I need Somegurl and all the help Nilla and Mac can ,
Check this out, it's what the room has made me.
Don't forget, the contest was fun all the way; and the bribe? Just kidding. lol

[center]Inside a candle lit room,
With moonlight filtering through open windows,
A slight breeze pushes its way through transparent silks;
As the curtains give way to the natural stream,
I feel the presence of guests,
Fairies who want to witness our union.

My wide and elegant bed,
Made no sooner,
Has petals of tulip here and there,
Red, white and yellow left to be used,
With a romantic and jasmine scented air,
As well as a Latin love plate waiting to be rolled.

My finely polished mahogany table at one end,
Is home to lit candles on a silvery stand,
A tulip lying on a diamond ring case,
A bottle of the best wine ever made placed in ice,
With my heart tastily served,
The glasses are left where it won’t freeze.

Outside my home,
I defy an excitement filled tide,
The air caressing my face,
My soul already set forth to guide you into my presence,
A being deep in thoughts,
How to ask - ‘ can we be one forever even in trials? ’[/center]

And the contest continues

I sit still with Silence as I listen.
I hear the gentle voice of the moon,
As she puts the sun to sleep in the distance;
If the sun yields, it will be dark soon.
And I'll mourn lost love with tears tonight
I'll remember love-days in the moonlight.

She was the reason the world was made,
And t'was her that told the stars to glow;
But for love, we were never ever afraid,
For I was her strength, but she was my soul;
Her beauty was timeless and her eyes daunting,
I sit still in silence, my memories haunting,

With the stale taste of breath without her,
And the remnant of life once lived,
I am love's wrecked ship when sober,
I drown in my tears, my only gift.
Though beyond the viels of reality, still I wish,
To touch those lips and plant a last kiss;


The moon still sings but the sun is asleep,
Our love long-dead but still I weep.

sorry y'all it took so long. I'm almost running out'a things to write about. I'd love to wander into literature's unfamilliar terrain. Maybe I could uncover another facet of me, ouuu. . . . sounds adventurous. enjoy.

thats fine


you could write a positive poem about Nigeria. sometime hopeful or just something nice.

Hey, don't make us a gift and then appologize for not having given it to us any earlier!

true

i'll be back soon

you could write a positive poem about Nigeria. sometime hopeful or just something nice

Actually anything I'd write about nigeria would be pessimistic. I don't exactly know why. . . but if you've noticed, most of my poems are negative. Contemplations on the negative help me understand the positive better. my mind borders on "worst-case -scenario" mode most of the time. But let's see what I come up with; you never know, something awesome could jump out'a bethlehem.

try. that would be nice.
Didnt really notice the negative in your poems that much.

Hey champ,
what if we let the ladies contest, while we get refreshed?
They could be better writers u know.
What do u think?

ok thats fine .


id think of something.


I'm not a poet. i just loved the poems on this thread.

Hey champ. . .

hehe funny guy

Yeah I wanted to say something to nilla about that. . . I'm changing my writing pattern, so I might not be poem-ing for a while. so yeah c'mon ladies . . where're y'all when frank needs ya. . . huh?

dont worry we are coming. _{Have just been very busy at work this last couple of days.}

[center]‘A Tribute to the Champ’

The contest was without a snare,
You write with a lot of flair,
So fluid but my fear,
Good enough to make me swear,
Even as I ask of my Messiah,
To be better than as I were,
As I respire with lots of desire,
In a ghetto were a few read and care,
My contest isn’t failure but fear,
Knowing failure itself is that fear,
Only when it can’t steer,
Like an alcoholic and its beer,
Nilla, Somegurl and others will stare,
Knowing my flair comes with a tear.
Refresh Champ, it’s recess and I’m in repair.[/center]

FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME

His first word pushed me into fantasies of living another life
I know it sounds funny because all he said was hi
Love, infatuation, lust. Whatever it was it happened at first sight
I saw the years pass in my mind and 20 years later I was still his wife
He had Piercing eyes, a quiet smile, and gentle strength
As I was captured by his smile, I basked in the aroma of his manly scent
There is nothing quite like the beauty of Nigeria's Men
From his mind, to his life and all that God has given them
When he entered my office, his entrance was quite astounding
I could only hear the sound of congo drums or maybe it was my heart pounding
I wanted to say something articulate but I was dumbfounded
My legs were weak and I wanted to sit
Then I thought, "I know. That's it!"
"I'm at work. I'm supposed to say who do would you like to see."
Now, in a perfect world this guy would've said that he was looking for me.
But I had to snap myself back to reality.
I held my breath as he proceeded to speak
What he said was, "no one in particular. I have a delivery."
We exchanged smiles as I signed on the line
He took my card and said hope I see you next time
Two children later, I can't believe that I'm married to the same guy
That I fell in love with for the very first time

@ChiluvGod8.

This is great, sweet. Hmm. Lucky you (pl). You seen the film, PHAT Girlz? Your story/poem read often like it. Great story. Great ending.

Ps: You look great. I do not blame the guy. Bring it on.

nice one franc and chiluvGod8

franc1982:

[center]‘A Tribute to the Champ’

The contest was without a snare,
You write with a lot of flair,
So fluid but my fear,
Good enough to make me swear,
Even as I ask of my Messiah,
To be better than as I were,
As I respire with lots of desire,
In a ghetto were a few read and care,
My contest isn’t failure but fear,
Knowing failure itself is that fear,
Only when it can’t steer,
Like an alcoholic and its beer,
Nilla, Somegurl and others will stare,
Knowing my flair comes with a tear.
Refresh Champ, it’s recess and I’m in repair.[/center]

re: "a tribute to the champ"

Son that was good fight air 
"Refresh champ, it's recess and I'm in repair."

Nice nice. Me refresh, you repair?
oh no no son. My knuckles hurt worse,
and I need a new pair of gloves
My eye stings, I'll need some glasses

Oh Jesus! where're those short bald-headed coaches?
I gotta put my boots back on, round 2 approaches.

Thank you Miss Nilla and Mr. Gwatala. I appreciate your comments.

@ Mr. Gwatala,
I haven't seen the movie but I wanted to. Thanks for the compliment. That was nice of you. But by bring it on, did you mean more poetry?

I'm caught up in a fantasy and I can't control myself
Seems that I have eyes for you and no one else.
I'm from a planet called baby you're all mine.
Would you care to join me, I live on cloud nine.
The air is so fresh up here
Everything is clear
This is paradise, but it gets better when you're near.

really nice chi!
i love it.
where are d ladies?

A Sparkle of Love

‘Twas early, the presenter had just started his talk,
I sat safely in the middle of the crowd, still dozing,
However, my notebook was ready for action,
Until, I noticed him who was right up in the front,
From the very first row he smiled at me, how dear.

Shortly later, when he opened his pretty mouth,
A sound escaped his lips, jumbled but sweet,
With this big, dark eyes he captured me,
And I got the feeling he saw right to my soul,
How I longed to hold him in my arms.

And then, his eyes strayed to another girl,
And he giggled at her, flirting obviously,
Just as he had done a second before with me,
And she beamed back at him, this cute guy,
My boy, making smacking noises, wet kisses.

Even the presenter was distracted by now,
I could see him glancing in our direction,
No, not in our direction but to him alone,
The presenter too had fallen in love,
Just like everybody else, women and men.

But, all of the sudden, his mood changed,
He started kicking and whining like a babe,
Grandma got up, gently took him away,
From his mummy’s soft and warm shoulder,
Carried him out but his sweet scent remained.

Men!
Somegurl, I love the suspence.
That was a nice one there,
U never know it's some kid until the very last stanza.
Good work, keep it.
Where's Nilla and Chilove now?

Franc, thanks! That was exactly my intention. You should have seen him, maybe about 3-4 months old, such a cutie. By the way, I have a new one for you, a reflection on a dinner to which I had been invited a few nights ago:


Love (Old Vs New)

Two years after the first shy kiss,
Nothing remains to remind of this,
Tears have dried, swollen eyes softened,
Love has sneaked in and out so often,
Sometimes, I wonder if indeed it happened
Or if I just dreamed it all, back then.

Not being used to being a single
But to loneliness and a refusal to mingle,
I was surprised by the kisses on my cheeks*,
He seems intelligent, warm and meek,
Could it be that it is my love he seeks?
Two years have passed, now my mind is bleak.

An old love is dying or already dead,
So why can’t I let a new one into my head?


* The guy's from a country where kisses on the cheeks are a normal part of the greeting and farewell procedure. So I shouldn't rise up my hopes too high.

PS: Now, I will lay back for a while and wait with you together for Nilla and ChiluvGod8.