₦airaland Forum

MrPoet:
THE BRIDE AND THE GROOM

My eyes raised to the sky
And behold the wonderful
Words of imaginations
Flying higher in the sky
Far above my reach or count

At the moon rise of the day
I set out to watch the cloud
Giving way for the new sky and
Think about the stories by moonlight
Not so long, the stars welcomed me
For my gentle and patient stay

Then I asked myself a question
Where as the groom run to? Leaving
His bride all alone in the dark hour of the night
Is this the so called love about the bride and the groom?
Without a little further, the new bride
Sent her little zephyr to whisper her little answer

The groom stays with her bride
All through the sunny day and
Gave her some hours in the night
To show her natural beauty to the world
Then and only can you see their little children
Blinking up there in the sky

So when the hours are past
Then came the groom early in the day
And adore her beauty with a sunny friend
Even while I yet chat with their children
So in hurry the groom appered and
In a twinkling of an eye, the groom
Spread round the sky covering the
Morning beauty of his new bride

Oh what a love to share
About the cloud and the sky
Biding me to stay more with them
Early in the morning, rush I do
Watching their blinking children in the sky
So I say my wishes to the air
Just before the groom appear

Always wanting to see the child,
Who will be the last in the sky
But the first or last I cannot tell
Hoping oneday somehow
The first or last I will tell


#Mr_Poet

joseph1832:
That voice in the desert that cries
Wolf when sheep are slain.
That voice is the desert that rain
Words when swords come piercing.

That voice in the desert that lament
Lamentations when the people lament.
That voice in the desert
That deserts dissertation of egoism.

That voice of logic that sing songs
Of tragic tales that sails,
From Limpopo to Zambaizi.

That voice of tragedy that wails
And yells like the wolf when its full moon,
That voice of reason that moves beyond
Season when schism becomes reason.

That voice that voice.
That voice that echo the cry
Of warriors past whose blood soak
The land like rain soak the sand.

That voice that sings sonnets
That resonates like planets,
Whose light shines brightest
Like the morning sun.

That voice that placates when feelings duplicate,
And replicate the hope of the hopeless.
That voice that cry like banshee
When blood flows like crimson,

Behold!

That voice that has been drowned by nepotism,
That voice that has been raped by fanaticism,
That voice that has been corrupted by corruption,
That voice that has been bribed by bribery,
That voice that has been quenched by nepotism,
Fanaticism, tribalism, religious extremism,
And all manner of bribery and corruption.

Behold!

That voice that shook hands
With the cold hands of death.
That voice that voice,
For we no longer hear that voice.


*Dedicated to Gani Fawehinmi.

Doctorfitz:
Our ancestors have all gone...
Gone with the waters of separation and longevity...
The sun has refused to arise from his slumber just lyk d sons of the land freely born....
The old women once made the land quiver, but now the young females speak with the voice of their contours...
Night is day nd wat u see is an illusion,its their land and not ours...
It's red sand sings the song of history,that of blood soaked in d corsett of mother earth....
Its one thing to know,another is to love..
I love my city-benin city

Rainess:
Swimming in blooding

joseph1832:
You're the sun that lights my day,
The moon that lights my darkness.
The fairest maiden I've ever known,
You're the Queen of queens.


Thoughts of you makes my heart glow
Like a sea of calm in winter snow,
You feel me with joy and happiness,
And never give me cause for sadness.


My love for you shines like the Sun in the sky,
Giving light and warmth to my heart,
Ever living within me without being shy,
And causing my heart to glow like fine art.


My love for you burns like fire.
Burning fierce for all eternity,
Which I put on like an attire,
Because it keeps me warm with such audacity.

Reyginus:
Okay. Thank you.

Reyginus:
How does it make poems better or good than other poem styles? Do you also know how meters work too? I mean their relevance to a poem?

Reyginus:
I read that. I am simply asking why the method? As in, does it convey ideas better?

Reyginus:
Thank you. But what exactly does this style add to the Poem?