Category Archives: free verse

The Tooth Be Told

This was quite a work of art. Even if pressed for time, just read the part about hashtag #9.
Enjoy this!

tangotribe

Whole ToothWhole Tooth1Whole Tooth2Whole Tooth3Whole Tooth4Whole Tooth5Whole Tooth6Whole Tooth7Whole Tooth8Whole Tooth9Whole Tooth10Whole Tooth11Whole Tooth12Whole Tooth13Whole Tooth14Whole Tooth15Whole Tooth16Whole Tooth17Whole Tooth18Whole Tooth19

View original post

Advertisements

IN CELEBRATION OF IGNORANCE

 

general knowledge test, general knowledge questions, general knowledge answers, general knowledge questions and answers, general knowledge quiz, general knowledge trivia, teacher certification test, fun trivia questions and answers on space, general knowledge about universe, universe facts, space facts

source: angrylearnerr.com

You may choose to build an altar in my name

And sing eulogies as you get drunk all day long

Or follow my blog and all social media accounts

Secretly harbouring admiration for me

Having abandoned your own work and family

Doing these totally at your own peril

 

Coz I won’t be waking up chanting “oms” or burning incense

Reading the stars and ancient manuscripts at night

Writing long philosophies and moral codes

Or walking down the street followed by a picking of spiritual seekers

Carrying myself like someone who really knows what he is doing

And that that thing he is doing is nothing

 

What do I know of divinity

What do I know of hatred

What do I know of love

What do I know of weakness

What do I know of happiness

What do I know of knowledge

What do I know of art

What do I know of prostitution

What do I know of hunger

Maybe if you wait long enough

Burning the midnight oil in cyberspace

You might have the pleasure of being the first

To see another work of my art

To see another grand expression

Of the depth of my ignorance

Of the richness of my shallowness

Maybe you will then finally see

In that precious midnight moment

That there is really nothing new

To learn from another human

Who is just a stuttering mere mortal like you

Trying to say stale things in great ways

Sounding like he knows anything about nothing

And actually saying nothing about anything

 

And

Whilst countless shamelessly beg

At the doorstep of knowledge

Priding themselves as masters

Of art and science and law and philosophy

 

I will turn myself in bed

And continue snoring

As I dream on

Laughing in my sleep

At those who thought I had something grand to say

MIDWINTERNIGHT’S WHISPERS

source: travelization.net

 

It’s winter again and I am born again

With the weather dropping its angst and baggage

 

Gunshots and thunders have been known to not wake me up

I have been blessed with the gift of sleep, in addition to milk and wine

But tonight I stagger out of bed like a drinker

Who was given a particularly potent new brand of ethanol

The piss of the spirits it is called

“It’s time to get rid of the past”

I heard winter’s chilly-sweet voice tell me out of sleep

 

I dance into the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Caution: I don’t encourage the use of illicit drugs

I reverently approach the toilet bowl and kneel before it

Like a priest before a deity

I gaze red-misty-eyed into the water

As commanded by winter

 

And I begin to see the seasons of my life gone by…

 

 

 

Bells in the air

Happy chaos everywhere

It’s the sound of joy and love

Spring came with the first romance of my life

All gift-wrapped and abandoned at my doorstep

I didn’t have to sweat for or with her

The whole feeling was that clear ecstasy you got

When your thoroughly engineered plans fell into place

And you had covered up for all possible lapses

Time flew past fast

Work was meaningful

And better than what I had dreamt of

Oh, things threatened to go wrong at times during the day

But in this spring season, nothing could go awry

I would find me singing as I strolled back from work in the evening

As I smelt the fragrance of freshly growing grasses

And believed all was right with the world

 

Transition…

 

A little sweat here and there

But I still got this under control

Summer doesn’t care who your father is

This sun will burn even on the rich as well

A little sweat here a little ache there

And I began to learn the harsher rules of life

I enjoyed growing up and seeing the other sides

But drudgery comes upon every relationship

As the couple grow too familiar with each other

Even the work you love

Soon gathers its own dust and makes you sneeze

You can only hope the heat doesn’t go for too long

Because that would usher in unexpectedly on you

 

The autumn

 

Singing: let everything fall and fade away

Let the romance of death begin… la la la

 

The couple will dance to this song

And it takes two to rock it!

When every good immortalized relationship dies

It takes two to drive the stake through the vampirical heart

And I see how we both did our jobs well in the murder

Remember the threats of things to go wrong during the day

Well, they got their wishes

On the work front, I got the famous sack letter

The heat was too much for too long

Things started looking honestly bleak

But autumn never fails me

Autumn took everything away

Stripped me naked

It reminded me of how I came into the world

 

This cold place

 

Where the best season is

 

Winter

 

Welcome, winter

The comforter of souls in pain

The season of celebrating the birth of the one called Christ

The time when the year calls us to balance the books

The season that mixes so much sanguinity with melancholy

 

Here now comes the slow fade

 

When you hear them sing

From now on our troubles will be out of sight

It just means the cold has made us appropriately numb to them

It was a gradual step

From the innocence and bliss of spring

To the harsh realities of summer

Then to the frank cruelty of autumn

By now, you are fully made

Beaten out into shape

You have seen it all

The pain does not bother anymore

You have hung out your tears on winter to freeze them away

The slow fade has occurred

And I was left wondering if I wanted spring to come next as expected

In that state, did I even bother

I stared at the mirror intently to read my inner desires

But I am the man I once knew

The person I see in the mirror now

Is distorted by the ripples

Of the water in the toilet bowl

I get up reverentially

Dance out of the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Staggered into bed like a drinker

Totally light and drifting like one

Who has dropped all his angst and baggage

To be born or die again…

 

Who can ‘let it go’ better than a dead man

Sleep tonight Chris

Let it go

THE SIMPLE WAYS OF ART

source: pinterest

It’s 1 am

How do I do something no one has ever written

Write something no one has ever done

Outstandingly creative or ingenious

That gets the reader stuck on its pages and lessons

A real page- and life-turner

That remains evergreen even when my hair turns grey

Something that will cost some sweet sweat

The kind that precedes a particularly delightful rest

The kind that only comes after rock-hard labour

 

This is the question I keep asking

At 4:30 am

 

This is the eternal curse of the artist

That high bar we have set for ourselves

That forever keeps us below the scientist

That high bar we never attain to

That makes a mockery of us before the scientist

Whose life is so simple

A very theoretically pragmatic mix of principles

No matter how actually chaotically inadequate this mix is

 

We forever fawn over our inferiority before them

The scientist who needn’t rise beyond his senses

The scientist who needn’t read between the lines of this piece

The scientist whose neurons fire away in peace

We artists be forever murdering ourselves

Suiciding and homiciding all through life

The artist wakes up every morning with a hammer to the head

He then picks at the pieces with long nails

Same nails he used to scratch his itchy under a night before

He scatters the bits with his scrawny feet

So bony from years of starvation

Because inspiration did not give 50 kobo if he survived

In a world of indie publishing, miscellaneous blogging and facebooking

He peers with eyeballs painfully straining hard

For something beyond the senses

Something truly beautiful

That could not have come from among those neurons and equations

Something more than a mockery of his senses

Writing simply as his eyes have seen or ears heard

He has to spin the magical into it

He cannot paint that drab leaf the way it is

The leaf has to look like a flower

A glorious flower nobody has seen before

art, draw, drawing, eye, eyes, freak

source: favim.com

The artist has to produce a work of wonder

A work that the senses have to adore

A work the scientist has to bow before in awe

 

Make no mistake the scientist works hard

Starting from the imagination

Creating a complex question

But he then turns the simplistic way

Reduces the wonder to a series of observations and equations

 

The scientist has his own merits

 

But,

 

The artist has to dig into the supernatural

He has to bridge the realms of the seen and unseeable

He has to produce a wonder

The scientist did not know existed

In a way that could not be explained by equations and mere observations

Using tools the scientist did not know existed

He looks at the simple elements

Eats them all up

Regurgitates lying down

Whilst the scientist scorns

Calling him a lazy goat

Who cannot handle the rigours of elaborate farm work

 

Only to produce a wonder the same scientist can apprehend

And adore with his own senses

 

A world beyond mere observations and simple equations of life.

INTROSPECTION (songs for plath)

Someone I know presented this at a book club, and something about the content made me decide to share, as I told him.

pic by_aeternum_art-d6vy5hm.jpg

I

My heart is a tomb where hope comes to live,

I go to parties of happiness to breathe,

I inhale all the light around me

and leave the parties when it gets dark,

too dark for men to see

without stumbling into the sadness.

Too dark to feel for lighters that lift the souls of men high.

 

I watch their fears colliding from a distance,

I giggle.

 

II

On quiet days

when there are no songs left in my lungs,

I write.

 

I like to write stories of women that died

while embracing life-

firmly

women we thought had too much of her in them

but we never cared to look beneath their skins.

 

On autopsy,

the pathologist said he found castles living inside them,

Castles that echoed whispers.

 

III

There are nights when I dream;

 

I am a bird, carrying happiness within my beak

Flying towards a nest I do not know.

 

I never get home.

An angry storm breaks my beak into two,

happiness dissolves into a stream of darkness.

 

I wake up screaming.

Sweating.

 

-OLUAFOLABI