[center]Today, i remember my Dad
Who is gone and i still miss him bad
With a goya in his finger,
He can tackle paranoia
He is the very model of a moder pschoanalyst
When Achike Udenwa calls, he agrees to be a panelist
He treats with objectivity and disciplined sobriety
All past and future traumas in our nuclear society
His favourite couch, made of rubber foam, encased in fabric durable
Whoever lives upon it should be comfortable and curable.[/center]

_{Maedan, how was your weekend?
Unlike me, hope it was worth the stipend?}

A big ups to every1 wu has posted a comment here i must confess i really love and for doz wu dropped some stuffs on mother u gt me cryin n I had to call her to let her noe hw much more her love cud eva mean to me
[i][/i]neva fink i cud match up with all the poems that has been posted earlier bt jst fink i shd drop this, easy on me plz ya'all
I'm so confused, I mean I wanna let go… I wanna let go of all this pain, but I'm afraid I'll go insane… she may come back, I have some hope, but with everything else, how can I cope. I wanna let go… I'm gonna let go, but If I wait and see, will she come back to me?”

@meexteriox

my weekend was wet
Worse than yours,I'll bet!

sorry about ur dad,
losing a loved one is sad.
I hope u'll soon be a happier lad.

@unwined, welcome, feel at ease,
bake and rebake ur thoughts for a feast

I felt sad, because I realized that once people are broken in certain ways, they can't ever be fixed, and this is something that nobody ever tells you when you are young and it never fails to surprise you as you grow older as you see people in your life break one by one.
I don't want someone because i'm scared for the ending. I’m scared to fall in love again, open up completely, and then just get shut out. Think about it, it's not a completely irrational fear. You give your heart away & then you just get it back but that one little piece is always gonna be missing. Everyone you give your heart away to takes a little piece of it with her/him, and eventually, what's left?
They were right when they said love is the slowest form of suicide because her lips are laced with cyanide & I’m so addicted to her kiss,

For those who've ever lost a loved one
I know exactly how you feel
Sometimes you question the very essence of life
You wonder bitterly what it really means

My brother and sister were little
They lived short but penetrating lives
To me they made more impact to this world
Than some people who have lived to be sixty

I've never really talked about it
It happened a long time ago
The feeling of futility is still with me tho'
Side by side with the stubborn spirit of Hope.

home sweet home!

Aww, Franc's back!


Welcome home.


One question though,


Bro, where are this thread's pioneers?


Especially Nilla, *they inspire me. Oh! its so lonely in here*


Please bring them back!
*sniffs*


Pleeeease Franc?

@ Firestar
Dat's y I got back. Never had so much fun writing as I did when this room was in full swing. Looking round the site for Nilla, Mac, Genial and Somegirl. If u find them b4 I do, tell them they're desperately WANTED. Let's get it rolling b4 they get back; they really would be proud we did. Members and guests, could u drop ur joint on 'Love'? We just got into the season, let it flow. 

@firestar, track me on facebook : Egu Attah francis
@u all, dat's where I've moved.

sorry dudes as the number one wordsmith
in my domain i can't watch you all trifling with
my field without lending my own lines
so i begin

first of all Rhymewright is the name i'm stuck with
and my poetry is no mere fiction or myth
it transcends all societal confines
yet its from within

i love this idea of a poetry contest
lets take it a step further i suggest
lets invite literary critics to judge us
if the entry is wack, he shall flog us and if tight, virtually hug us

permit me to insist that every 'poem'
should have a rhyme pattern and yet pass a message
please no dirt, trash, disses or phloem
every nairalander has a 'right of passage'

CUTE GUY
I met a cute guy who makes me tingle.
Thoughts of him make me giggle.
Its too bad he's not single.
But I'm glad we can mingle.

His smile makes my heart leap.
His swagger makes me want to trip.
Oh God! I need some tips.
How can I handle this whole kit?

When he touches me my heart beats.
I think I blush,
cause my cheek heats
or is it flush?
I do not know.

Sight of him makes my insides scream.
I'm sure he'll taste nice,
just like whip cream.
Or is it ice?
I do not know.

He makes me think fast,
Thoughts of him always long last.
My head is spinning,
I think something else is ringing.
Why do I feel this way?
What would he say?
Or should I just put on the radio and let it play,
So we'll hold hands and let our body sway?

Hmmm. . . Cute guy
You make me tingle.
Although you are not single,
I'm glad we mingled. . .

So this kind of thread exists? where have i been.
Am gonna do some write up pretty soon . .

True love is kind
But so hard to find
Though love is blind
But sees via the mind.

Piracy

Piracy has gone round


To everywhere things are found


Taking a good look at me


Will say I can’t be two or three


So why is there


A miming me who is rare


And sometimes hard to see


Though, he doesn’t have a complexion as me





He pirates every move I make


So fast even without a break


A dark mischievous creature


That sometimes walks in my favour


He plays dirty tricks on me at night


At a point, I began liking him right


He follows me even to the meadow


So, I named him my shadow.




corpright: jey_d_poet 2006



http://mypoetryforum.com/mpf.php

life can be so boring
sometimes,so sickening
what do you think
why not grab your ink
and put down what you feel

POLITICAL LUNACY

What are these?
Wherefore:these found?
Who and who:the paraders?
And who:the perplexed?
With minds unendingly uncouth,
What goes round,ends nigh?
Neek and neek;the scramble
Our vast holdings,hustled-
In our faces;with no hiding
And sheepish;their follow:
of the present predecessors

Predicted:their ranges
Though with funny reasons,paraded
Debased in deceit:
Their skin and skull deceived
For from afar;we perceive-
Their every filth and furry
And like lunatics;they pick
Every grocery with garbages,
With no reasons and chasms
Our holdings now in debris
For their debaucheries must be completed
O like peripatetic lunatic;
They'll scatter:
Our wares-in-common

These wares must cease
For we are now weary
of their hasty weeding
of our handy holdings
All these notwithstanding:
The lunatics are saintly

------------------CARINGPRO,

Its a cursed country
people have been suffering
we are crying
they are smiling
they eat because they have
we die because we starve
in poverty,we continue to roll
the country is spinning out of control

Here I am.
Cozy. Warm. Floating.
I wonder if I could,

Reach, Out,
Aarh! My arms are short! Legs maybe, ?
Yes!
Come on legs! Comeon come- what's that?? Soft. And stretchy. And bouncy? *Kick*
-x-x-x-
''Yeee-!!! Argh, , My , little Bunny,
(Smirks)
Honey? Come over here. Roo's,
Angsty.
There, place it here,
Wait for i-(Gasp)!!!

-x-x-x-x-
Hey! That tickles! -x-x-x-x-

This is Lagos

Surrounded with water just like the earth
You lie close to the Atlantic plate
With streams criss-crossing your girdle
What a beauty to behold from the birds
Moving in and out in seasonal rhythm
Even when the heaven weep Lagos never sleep

Around here we see no limits
However the scuffle, the struggle remains on
The spirit of the town is sturdy
Sterile like a well groomed stallion
The thought of the island gives me ripples
The city where I tasted my first apples

In this street foxes are smarter
Hunters roam the corners treacherously
However taut the sheriffs keep vigil
The daylight owes gets there feeding
Here lie a people in endless chase
Every one dreams of a big catch

Huts here are tall and bold
Towering from north to south
This town is not for the dawdling
For me survival here is a calling
The homeward expedition is beaded
Evidence is sprawling illumination of machines
Still the foxes come along to feed
How I wish I have my Dane here

For all a care am in love with the aquatic
Nothing refreshes like salt on my feet
Decades from now the town will swell
Hell knows nothing about the fury of Lagos
Nomads will dump the heard just to see the sea
Now I know why I am arrested by it
The spirit of Las-gidi dwells within

Omo-ekun’10[i][/i]

Oh dearest me
How can it be
That i did not sooner find
This brooding hive
Of poetic jive
That delights my mind?

i just looooooooooove poetry.been writing for quite a while and i hope to one day do something with it all.i'll come back to post later.

Being away is not to stray away
being alone is not to be lonely
sowing a seed is not to grow a weed
being in the rain is not to drain away
being dry is not being dead

Shh! Don't tell.


I've a secret 'n it's bubblin' like Ikogosi's spring wells. . .


Come near, please come and keep tones under. . .


And enjoy the beauty of twilight's natural wonder.


See that? Did you see that bird? Its plumage of browns, reds, and yellows over there-- in the shadow. . .


This is my escape, you see. Escape from all the nonsense and I sigh. . .


Nakama. . .
this is one of the ways I praise the Most High.

alright folks, I haven't been around lately but this is one of the works i Did during my travels

enjoy,

CLARINET

Spin a wave little lass
conjuring air, skies and rivers
life after death you call it
hope of eternity isn't lost

Recoil and sharpen me madam
blemished blasphemous being of Adam
the tale of ten thunders
fill me head, clears my blunders

Wave forms; tattle tales
fill the air; shrieking wails
seeing is believing
I’m left there nude and shivering

I shall rise upon Zion
with its King and great Lion
the girl with the thing we do stare
weapon of music that tore me bare

firestar:

Shh! Don't tell.


I've a secret 'n it's bubblin' like Ikogosi's spring wells. . .


Come near, please come and keep tones under. . .


And enjoy the beauty of twilight's natural wonder.


See that? Did you see that bird? Its plumage of browns, reds, and yellows over there-- in the shadow. . .


This is my escape, you see. Escape from all the nonsense and I sigh. . .


Nakama. . .
this is one of the ways I praise the Most High.

i kinda liked the imagery u employed in this one. here is one that am really proud of. say what u tink

THE UNBORN DEAD

First I am liquid, only one of many fluids,

I cause no trouble, am serene, like the druids

Even then I’m alive, though filled with uncertainty.

Thinking, what is this sac that holds me in captivity?

Time passes; I grow in body and mind.

When do I get noticed by the parent mind?

Why pour these hot fluids on me? They burn me.

Imbibe more fruits. They develop and form me.

Oh I’ve been noticed, now, no more foods come.

Aha! How restless the parent mind has become.

Now I have an idea. Too young to let me stay

And little stones come. For what purpose I pray?

Stop the stones. They turn me back to blood

Am I deformed, my limbs, they refuse to bud

Oho! They’ve stopped. Do I have time to re-grow?

I sense a larger space out. Have I enough to show?

But I have to struggle. I sense my minder worried.

Am I that much trouble? She seems so harried.

Where are you going? Oh no! I sense danger here.

Wait! Wait! My screams are not loud enough to hear

Um wait. Won’t I find out what I have to give?

Am I to be killed before I have a chance to live?

Aha! The sword of Damocles, it sucks me out of my harbor

Sliding fitfully into oblivion, I scream pitifully, ET TU' DOCTOR!

For how long will i walk in solitude?
Often times love seems so harsh and rude
As time flies away, i dread my patience will diminish
O! Will it ever end, will my tears ever finish?
The picture of the moments of love lingers in my mind
Am willing to try once more, but don't know what i might find
Life seems fair, but fairer will it be if i get entangled
in the web of love and get its flame rekindled
For now, my love is for me, myself and I
This i will do till the day i see love with my naked eyes
I will sing love songs to myself and console myself with laughter
Call me lonely, it suits me, it is all about me, only me matters
Don't let this give you a picture of me having the delusion of grandeur
But for how long can i hold on to my wits? how long can i endure?
I will hold on to it, for as long as the sun rises and the star twinkles
One day the fairy will find me and stay with me till my face wrinkles
Am writing this piece for seriously searching fellows; the singles
Desperation is a sign of weakness; seek love with patience
Frustration is a sign of feeble-mindedness; it will increase your tense
Open your heart to love, around it erect no fence.

Nigeria's Democracy,
Government of the PEOPLE and for the PEOPLE,
Who are d PEOPLE?
The creame de la creame are the PEOPLE and the masses are the people and democracy is not meant for them.