I am Gangan The talking drum Faster than hoofs Slower than light Mother of dance Father of speech I bring joy Or sorrow Or plain words Hate me not Love me not I am but a messenger Lovingly caressed. ©Aweni
I was the poster child of success. I don't mean the kind of success most of us desire these days. Ergo, fat bank accounts, fast cars and big houses are not what I'm talking about. I mean the kind of success where you have never failed. Never failed a test. Never failed an exam. Never failed … Continue reading Do not stand still!
He was but A soul lost. Locked away. It was his make To peer hard But see not. For he dwelled Behind eyes Not opened wide Nor firmly shut. Image credit: Source unknown (please drop a comment if you know source so I can credit appropriately).
My mood's mistress is here again. With my mood, She plays a game. In my heart, She causes pain. In my brain, A sense of doom. In my pant, A gloomy red. I stand or sit, At her beck. But only for A time so short. Until she lends my mood Back to me. … Continue reading My mood’s mistress
I say, "it is as you like it." Lola said; Curses on to women, Past and present. For the burden you created. For wrapping my fate in a foil of lies, Attractive to the less discerning eye. For placing the pen in my hand and moving the ladle to the other. For letting him … Continue reading An ode to, or a curse on Mary
"The world is a market place." Mother said. "Heed only your heart, So you may be guided right. For it is filled with cries of the sanctimonious Hawking wares that are not for you." We listened. Enveloped in his words, In the vice like grip of his eyes, I was deaf to their … Continue reading In the market place
Indeed, it was a strange story. The story of Penny. She came four times. She left four times. Each time she came, There was joy. Each time she left, Tears rolled. Each time, she was called Penny. I knew her secret only on her fifth coming. You see, Penny was my little sister. The fourth … Continue reading Birthing death
Each one of my cells vibrates, Lifting up an inch Then another Until I am lifted. Detached from my body, My soul soars. With the doves I fly. Not satisfied, I sail high Then higher, To the seventh heavens. My form weightless, I slip In and out Of worm holes And through galaxies. The … Continue reading My High
Once a breeze blew my way It was fleeting But The flames it killed was plenty And The embers it cooled were many It is long gone on its way But Its memory lingers on my skin And Will be held dear until my finite life ends Image credit: Angel Uloma … Continue reading THE breeze
Let's first talk about Julia. You see, She was my lover A pretty, trusting woman, Whom I loved like no other. I, was a soldier Away in Afghanistan. After six months beyond border, I came home from the war front. I was met by a smiling, chubbier Julia, Waiting in her flowing Kaftan. … Continue reading Me, Julia and Peter