The stream (all workshops)
stoic sticks click (rest) clack
wild tambourines throw a festive party
while those prim and proper triangles
those dangling works of art
hold their noses high
shoulders at a rest
waiting for the hush
the silence of the rhythm band, and then
with almost no effort at all, they declare
ping!
the song is over
***
I saw a train moving on the rail
When I went for a walk on the rail
I saw its wheels moving like it was real
But it was not moving by its will
Nor by itself. It was the rail that showed the way
I turned on the rail to follow the train
When I saw its track on the rail.
It way was far when it took the right
As if it knew it was trailed.
When he began to draggled on the rail
He aimed at the train,
But the bullets flew straight over it.
I need to cry more, it makes me feel better
A release from the everyday stress
A change from complacent and the weary
To those days that I love best
My muse loves me, and I love her back
I couldn't want for more
She brings me ideas from everywhere
She leaves them outside my door
Don't chase her, she returns on her own
I'll sit waiting patiently
Gone for days, she roams for thoughts
Bringing them home to me
In the
gathering of
silence - in the
mustering of the
dark; in every comforting
shadow hollow beats a heart,
Hollow
beats a heart
in every comforting
shadow, in the mustering
of the dark, in the gathering
of silence - hollow- beats- a heart.
Obi.
Time-less-ness of Time
Sorry for butting
if I may be permitted
as a scientist more
than a toddler poet,
daring to tread through
the poetic treadmill,
besides stalwarts,
not knowing much of the nuances of poetry,
none the less, I may continue, if you do permit
firstly,
I may suggest, we all read the book on Time
brief history of time by Stephen Hawkins
a piece of
the Celestial Mother
prevalent
in all womankind
the precious spark
you'll always find
in her lucent face
mistress moon
she is one with
her daughters
flowing
with the waters
of life
like creamy jade
she shall be
my muse
from now
until I fade.
Oh mother who conceived
holily and just as promised
by the mighty of heaven
behold the queen has put to birth
the king of devine mercy
halleluia, halleluia
praises fill the universe
joy fill unto the living
Hosannah, hosannah
the king of peace
all hail the king
all hail the king of glory
the king of redemption
the king arose other kings
the Chariot king of kings
he who comes in the name of lord
he who comes for the sins
he who enkindle the world
insert the needle into the brain
and sew it shut.
it no longer wishes for pain
take the open vein
and sew it shut.
melting into the fog as it shrouds
dissapearing into every crowd, surrounded yet
standing alone
another statistic, another hunk of bone
should my eyes begin to wet
sew them shut.
there's no use for tears, no matter how much the pain rears it's ugly head
The Spider weaves her silken web
In Palace gold
Or Garden Shed.
A thing of beauty to entice,
Trap a victim, man or mice.
And you my love, my spider fair
With arms so slim
And nails so bare
Are like the spider as you wait
To wrap a soul, to seal his fate.
To sink your fangs deep in his flesh
As he lies, helpless, in your mesh.
Life from his very soul you suck
Then cast him off, an empty husk.
Time has been tethered
in the cave of despair
life rides in the vehicle
of uncertainty and penury
but this time a sunrise
shall smile aloud sincerely
©© Onyinyechi Cosmos Etu
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