₦airaland Forum

timpaker: How? Music is life. It is deep like poetry and heals the soul

texanomaly: Hmmm

timpaker: Cuz you've bn a bad girl
Now say this pledge
"I henceforth promise to follow basic rules of poetry
And shall write on poetry forms known and unknown to me.
I hereby ask that the spirit leads me to conform with what is conformable in poetry.
These i pledge in Apollo, Athena, Bragi' and Milil's name."

timpaker: At times peace isn't an option. Peace could be oppressing and suppressing at the same time. Now i can't play my K-switch Ft. D'banj (Obimo) and my Indian musics that loud again

timpaker: Please stop bn an outlaw and be a conformist and hey Hajiya I don't live in google

Obinnau: shoot.

Danhumprey: Bookmarked!


It seems my babe has now taken to the Literature section.

Jodekss: NONET...

Another christmas is coming right?
Bloke burn to black old ethics now
Align your alignments
In tune with Him
Do all man good
Think aright;
Feel freed
Bloke!

Jodekss: he's a genius we must all admit but I think anything's searchable via www.google.com

Obinnau: how did it go tim?

timpaker: The young trees weren't agog with winter snow
As the leaves chose to wither than grow
Wafting gently autumnal crocus to the frozen ground
While the night birds carols in sonorous sound

Yet it is garbed in prismatic glimmering ice
All over the street it dazzles the eyes
Of Dryad, then it heard the bell breaking the ambience
As if the wind was arguing with silence

Then the sound lead to another, then another -
A cacophony deafened the air and shakened the order
A man with a chainsaw needs a Christmas tree
He sawed off the root and fissured it with glee

A young lad - a sentry was stationed by the way
He held his own star, lights and candies in a manner somewhat gay
"Careful dad!" As the tree succumbed its teary droplets on dad
Before making a fall that made Dryad sad

But its Christmas isn't it?

badmusace: AT THE END OF A YEAR
Our own version of winter:
The morning fog afflicts us with
temporary myopia;
The early cold continually snoozes
our alarms.

Hence, more childbirth in September.
The car zooms past us,
leaving behind
a mushroom of dust,
which find homes on
thirsty leaves and naked roofs.

Wrinkled lips like dried tree barks;
In between fingers and toes,
‘white’ strategically hides.
Sometimes giving the illusion of
a hastily powdered skin.


Skit:
On TV,
a kid wails in betwixt laps
of a grinning-rotund-black-white-bearded-man
in loose fitted red and hat of same.


Wasteful spending begins:
My neighbour has starved
all through the year, to fatten her purse.
Only to empty its contents on stocks,
needed and unneeded, to be
demolished in two hurried gobbles!
Every other year, she passes this same
old torch to her 'old-new' self.


Quick ascension period on the financial scale and all other weighted ills:
Birthing houses scythed for day old young;
The road lies in wait with an appetite larger than ever,
Twisted metals and shards of jagged glass smeared scarlet
are remnants from its daily meal,
Still beings void of organs
flank our roads;
All forms of nappers device new means
and revise old means for capture;
Our own forceful and erratic aurora borealis,
with showers of debris and disjointed beings,
casts a gloomy shade all over.


Why this sudden change?

‘Season Greetings.’

Now it all makes sense.

tijehi: One word..beauutiful intro. So so following.