|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:11:14 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:11:14 GMT 10
Death points to me With a long, bony finger. Encapsulates me in darkness, Soothes my angry soul. Tells me to be calm And guides me through the tunnel. I cannot see any light Just neverending blackness. After an eternity I arrive in Hell. Perpetual drones, Piercing screams. Fires burning, Scary dreams. Death has taken me, I am no longer existent For I am hers.
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:13:13 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:13:13 GMT 10
Knowing our love is salty makes me think: In ocean towns, love is part of the weather, the wide hands of the breeze fanning it in from the sea. In ocean towns, love gets inside your mouth when you yawn, until you have to brush your teeth again, and it hangs in the air above your food, and you can smell it in your clothes, and somewhere are smells of crab meat and suntan lotion, but you can't find them because all the love's around. And the salt hangs like a love letter on the fridge, reminding you so much that the charm gets as redundant as the waves. And you wish to God that for just one minute of your saline life you didn't have to be so damn happy! But our love stays next to the pepper, and near it are smells of shoes and cat hair so thick our eyes water. Our love is contained. We keep it in a porcelain sailboat and take it in small sprinkles with french fries and watermelon because it gags us straight. But there are times when you come in from the wet air of July, I can taste love on you, like drinking from the ocean. And there's the smell of hair, and the smell of shoes, and of watermelon and french fries and the wet air of July. And we all crawl in bed, seasoning it, shoes underneath, and the cat curled like a seashell near the window, unaware he is an ingredient.
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:14:03 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:14:03 GMT 10
Smiling is infectious, you catch it like the flu, When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling too.
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin When he smiled I realized I'd passed it on to him .
I thought about that smile then I realized its worth, A single smile, just like mine could travel round the earth.
So, if you feel a smile begin, don't leave it undetected Let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:15:09 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:15:09 GMT 10
"To be an angel, one need not have wings. In giving love there is an equal grace. Nor need one seek the aura in the face, As love unveils the beauty of all things."
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:16:34 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:16:34 GMT 10
One SONG can spark a moment One FLOWER can wake the dream One TREE can start a forest One BIRD can herald spring One SMILE begins a friendship One HANDCLASP lifts a soul One STAR can guide a ship at sea One WORD can frame the goal One VOTE can change a nation One SUNBEAM lights a room One CANDLE wipes out darkness One LAUGH will conquer gloom One STEP must start each journey One WORD must start a prayer One HOPE will raise our spirits One TOUCH can show you care One VOICE can speak with wisdom One HEART can know what is true One LIFE can make a difference.
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 24, 2006 13:17:51 GMT 10
Post by toweringniceguy on Jul 24, 2006 13:17:51 GMT 10
The Boys of Labadi Beach On the shores of Labadi Beach, live harbingers of treasure: Star fish, cowry shells, snails sweet as coconut, Coke bottles, broken, cut and polished into ocean emeralds, Magic stones--sacrificial offerings. Oblation for the sons of Teshie, the children of Nungua, Barefoot village boys, no shirts, no knickers, no fees for school. Yet they are abosom--gods of the beach.
Up and down Labadi, they alone can find the treasure Power-drilled by sand and water, spiral tunnels, filled with magic. "Good luck . . . in here," the beach boys promise, Raising them to the African sun: transubstantiation, Ancient magic, under the species of stone.
"Five thousand cedis," they say, "six on down the way." Two dollars can feed a family for a day; I buy the useless rock. The boys of Teshie and Nungua, heads bowed, Counting money and good luck, Disappear, leaving behind only land-turtle trails To be eaten by the next hungry wave.
|
|
|
Poetry!
Jul 25, 2006 5:57:39 GMT 10
Post by prettyss0 on Jul 25, 2006 5:57:39 GMT 10
V nice collection Feroz
|
|