Tides of life rise,
with aim to consume.
Stay afloat by ceaseless sculling—
and count self lucky—
from one day to the next.
Tides rise wildly
in the face of a leadership monopoly,
dark skies looming,
illuminated by bureaucratic lightning
and ominous claps of thunder—
a storm making violent the tide.
Swimming blindly,
no reset button in sight,
a cureless malady—
of corrupt statesmen—
with a Get Out of Jail Card-Free.
It’s about Monopoly with a Twist at dVerse!
Click and join in! 😉
How You Kept p with Me This Long!
Stubborn and restless, yet held close to your chest—
the prodigal, rebelling against your cause.
Fighting the tide, divine plans set aside,
trading my crown, seeking the world.
I drink in the lie,
toil and compromise—
princess turned pauper.
Are the detours by my hand,
or do I blame the whispering liar?
Drowning in noise and distraction,
disappointment and shame—just a few.
My soul, weary—
yet You find me.
You never lost me.
From your throne, watching,
I am your lost treasure, never forgotten.
“Are you ready to come home?” you ask.
My crown—still as shiny as ever.
Scales fall off—
the world was always mine.
In a state of repentance, I consider—
How You kept up with me this long.
The Window Washer
Who can judge?
Covetous deviant!
Or what other nature
takes on such a task?
Peering through open “frames,”
imagination—the superpower—
a transportation to alternate parlors,
for momentary encounters of what is not.
Still daydreaming,
yet hand in rotatory motion,
cleaning.
Covetous deviant? No!
For every day’s daydream,
the sacrifice—the more.
The higher the climb—
come what may the weather,
clinging to life ever tighter
so skylights may glimmer.
Covetous deviant? No!
Rather—
Superhuman undertone.
A shout out to all those in the window washing profession! IT IS HARD WORK!!!!❤️
This week’s Poetics @dVerse focuses on “the romance of open windows“- but not limiting our poetry to an interior to exterior perspective.
Join in! 🙂
outside seeking self
yet fazed by gossiping breeze
her voice playing within the leaves and trees
lulling me to sleep
perhaps I will find “self” where her story
takes me…
Away sounds of distant thunder
sparks prayer for cool weather
for a moment humidity flees
silence is broken by rustling trees
sounds of night competing
as distant thunder abates the heat
coming dawn gazes upon the scene
coming unforgiving Sun-
not caring a hoot…
Sitting in my chair, the crack of distant thunder inspired this piece. I hope it does justice to this week’s Quadrille prompt on dVerse – Quadrille #219 – A Poetic Hootenanny
Join in and “give a hoot about the rules and write a poem of exactly 44 words (not counting the title), including some semblance of the word hoot…“
Cheers! 🙂
‘Came by way of a thief in the night
Said Ma’
Initially unwanted by
… Papa
Four months too soon
Preterm
Complication stirred up intercessions
… Please stay
Decades since, “Celebration” in my name
“FK” 😉
Festival King, FK for short, is obviously not my real name – BUT just so you know, my pseudo is coined from my first and last names … First name actually meaning “Celebration”:)
An old poem of mine gives insight into my Last name. Click the link if you’d like to read: OTARU
MTB: The Poetry of Names – Today’s MTB prompt on @dVerse has us writing a WaltMarie poetry style*:
And the theme of your poem should be
Consider/imagine how it was chosen, what has it meant to carry that name.
ENJOY!!! 🙂
Raped of essence, Gaya thinks:
life is an affliction!
homo sapien sedition,
greenhouse emission,
they ruin my flawless skin…
Take me back to Eden's wake,
time of the primordial soup
when all was new
and only felt was heaven's embrace
cradled by sun and moon's light
Skies filled with faraway stars once vivid
now blanketed by industry’s breath
the heavens polluted by technology
nothing is left undefiled
like a dog with fleas, I am sets unease
Overpopulating, they
consuming all in their wake
their parasitic resilience
unsusceptible to my defenses
all failed attempts to quash them
weaponizing my tears
my quaking body and seething pants
yet the malady unable to shake
beset, but corrected I stand
… man, not life is my only affliction
Worn, abused and tired am I
Awaiting what're be my end
by tormenters within
'else by heaven's kind hand
leading me back to Eden's wake
Inspired by the dVerse prompt: Metamorphosis of Sorts
On February 20th, Nigerians witnessed the launch of A Journey in Service, a memoir detailing the life of a former military ruler. Now 83, he recounts his role in what can only be summarized as the country’s downward spiral—from senseless coups and executions that ignited a civil war to an election annulment that led to further bloodshed. And yet, on that day, he and his book were celebrated by the President and former Heads of State. The gall—the insult to the common Nigerian, past and present.
February also delivered a Hollywood tragedy straight out of The X-Files—a renowned actor, his wife, and their dog, all found dead in different parts of their home. No signs of forced entry. No carbon monoxide poisoning. No definitive time of death. A mystery worthy of the strangest conspiracy theories. Oh boy – February couldn’t get any crazier could it? Well Helz Yezzz!.
February 28th! The world witnessed what can only be described as the political equivalent of The Jerry Springer Show. Leader versus world leader. Or perhaps, world leader and his team going at leader – take your pick. No fists were thrown, but the number of jaws hitting the floor that day—including mine—was staggering. A day of pride for some, a day of disgrace for others. A moment in history remembered for ????… I’ll leave you to fill in the blanks.
Now, standing in the month of Martius, I can’t help but reflect on the sheer audacity of the past few weeks—from political theater to ongoing freakishly hot Lagos weather. And so, I ask: What more could you have in store for us, O month of March named after the Roman god offf … war?!
Pantheon smiles down,
From Fields of Mars spectating
His month unfolding
Its Haibun Monday on dVerse and its all about how you interpret “March Madness”. This piece was fun for me! Based on my view of the term “March madness” I got the chance to unclog all the frustration that came with previous month of February 😁.
March is here and I personally choose to be positive and prayerful about what’s ahead.
Cheers! 🙂
Late night, no sleep, just scrolling through endless media chaos. Overwhelmed by info and feeling drained, but Lofi music saves the vibe. Good night or morning!
4.30am yet devoid of sleep
distraction after another
wired media feeds intellectual beast
news spanning from lies to the alleged
sedentary and sore eyed, yet mesmerized
Hypnotized by the vast sea of content
the he said she saids and DIYs
cat and dog compilation videos,
Global updates point to man’s decline
The entertainment scene, just as vile
Mind now hurting… info over load
Thank goodness for the Lofi genre
… Good night or do I say Good morning? 🙂
It’s Open Link Night (#379) over at the d’Verse Poets Pub. Feel free to join in 🙂
From dripping sweat
to anger’s boiling blood
From breaking wind
to dust to dust returned,
Save combustion…
yet “burning” with passion
All embracing
All Elements are we
A lay man’s expression of what Yogis have preached all this time…
inspired by todays prompt over at dverse – Tuesday Poetics: The Four Elements
Festival King 