#writersconnect

653 posts
  • de_ife_7 2w

    Deep Shore.

    I went to the seashore,
    to greet the water and sounds of better.
    to meet an expedience of vengeful waves; palatable storms of life.
    August whispered harmattan breathe.

    An expedience of vengeful waves,
    speaking in signals of a windy radio,
    to frighten lest eyes fall asleep.
    Present prize of plaque promnesia.

    To frighten lest eyes fall asleep,
    heavy caskets of trees hang over the sad moon.
    When the wind breathes, the cradle must fall.
    The sand tells an ancient tale, a visit of gloom.

    When the wind breathes the cradle must fall,
    showers of rain far from the ghost tapper's,
    urgently impeach the day star's maxim.
    high tide, ride man glide.

    I went to the seashore,
    to perceive things that seem unsure,
    Does death walk at ease on shore?
    Dear hollow sounds of baneful minstrelsy.
    ©de_ife_7 ___________adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com

  • de_ife_7 3w

    The Assurance

    The assurance,
    of joy, and peace and life ever last,
    spirit direct spirit diverse speech
    mysterious unfold of past groan vast.

    The assurance,
    in the fellowship of seasoned humility,
    broken to a state of useful calamity
    step up from pomp to splendor.

    Again the assurance,
    like a gentle river flows through,
    greeting the fountain of wealth; the source.
    Your royal holiness; rule on till ever last.
    ©de_ife_7 @_deife_xp{I.G} ------------------adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com

  • de_ife_7 3w

    Blaze

    I am the sun.
    In my present rule of dictate,
    I furnish the earth with fervid heat.
    Not that I design to bleach my subjects,
    the knowledge shall sink; my proletariat.

    Brown and gold, of blood cold and bold.
    a sting of earnest dominion, honest to lay hold.
    I simply get perplexed at intervals,
    to obey but of the law of communion.

    Down the way, when the nights are gay.
    mountains melt at my merely innocent gaze. As long as monarch exists.
    I get to rule over all their laundry,
    A tranquility I dare not trade; blaze.
    ©de_ife_7 @_de_ifee{TWITTER} @_deife_xp{I.G}

  • de_ife_7 4w

    Light, Bright.

    I'm not asking you to stop running, please don't mistake me;what I mean is that you must stop once in a while when the breeze is gentle and you just want to sit and stare at the waves hitting the shore.

    What I also mean is that you must occasionally attend to the scars beneath your feet. First, pay attention to the stinging pain, clean with an antiseptic of patience, cover it up with some bandage of strength and be careful not to apply pressure on your soul's sore.

    To journey in life is not a bed of roses,
    creatures abound to nib your dreams.
    Black axe fly in black sky widespread.
    buckets don't even have a say in all these; baskets will only leak.

    In the net of cares like frodo's smigo.
    of ancient challenge still remains today.
    For of glory you need not shed blood.
    His son died to save all kind.

    Free your mind and cling your heart,
    on the hope far bright than light.
    To run is human but to achieve is divine, except I build they build in vain.
    ©de_ife_7 @_de_ifee{TWITTER} @_deife_xp{I.G} adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com.

  • de_ife_7 6w

    The Lion King 1 - a Fable

    And then a prince, for the jungle was born,
    what could it be? a news more assuring,
    in gold and brown, a new born Mufasa.
    a shout of mirth, a clash of cymbals.

    Speaking of a clash, came cold old crook,
    to steal his crown , for to blame and kill.
    A crook he is, the devildecieves.
    Fear, fright and fret, suggests a flight.

    Being pure as a cub, alien to scorn,
    for foolish reverence, believes a lie.
    He picks his bag and folds his tail,
    a journey fro, saddens the tale.

    ©de_ife_7 @_de_ifee{TWITTER} @_deife_xp{IG} adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com {MAIL}

  • de_ife_7 7w

    A letter to the waves.

    Dear waves...?
    You break my pride and reduce me to soil everyday.
    There are days when you bring me pearls and shells from the sea,
    and there are days when you pull my fishermen into your storm.

    I often wonder why you act like you do,
    indifferent and perplexingly
    self-centered.
    First you mumble inaudible insults towards the son of man.
    Then at ease, flog the earth with whips of rain.

    But again, when I dwell my mind on it,
    you render a cool sweep of chill,
    and with your agonizing whip,
    prepare me for the seasonal produce of crops.

    Shall I say then?
    It is darkest before dawn,
    we, when whipped, were not willed to weep.
    to mould us in perfect shape;
    like a potter, crushing earth upon earth,
    to scold me in feigned and unfeigned grace.

    If so be the case, I shan't blabber about my fate.
    Strike me with your whips; urgent twacks of beauty,
    that like a Korean vessel,
    I might bake out in egregious comeliness;
    how I love this word. This world.

    The poetry as ended,
    but they'll still visit the seaside; man,
    to watch you pride in waves of waves,
    and trample on me; man,
    reducing me to soil everyday.

    ©de_ife_7 _de_ifee{TWITTER} _deife_xp{IG} adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com {Mail}

  • de_ife_7 5w

    Unstable as Water.

    Free of void, lacking all own pattern.
    to reach the whole world, as flexible as rubber,
    and like the uncertainty of tomorrow, as vulnerable as a lonely imbecile.

    Secure the bag makes for small soap,
    even the descent Levites, a butcher of sanitizer; precious future .
    Blame of decorated vicious keratins.

    I've got peace like a river,
    joy a overflowing fountain.
    Standing by the letters of speech; my word,
    Cooking them up in figures of speech.

    ©de_ife_7 @_de_ifee{TWITTER} @_deife_xp{I.G}

  • de_ife_7 8w

    A sad joy.

    I will not be silent,
    proud waves of turbulent nature.
    Play me a minstrel's harp,
    crave me a descent chat.

    Music in my heart, o let me sing!
    a red rose shall need not dye,
    feel the bleeding bruise, but of bant, bountiful abuse, confuse to reap.

    Music in my heart, it gives me joy,
    a story to tell won't give it all.
    Twinkle twinkle feeble smile,
    to stand, you have, forward you fly.
    ©de_ife_7 _de_ifee{TWITTER} _deife_xp{IG} 08050714510 {Call me}

  • de_ife_7 8w

    What can I say?

    Once upon a time, twice tickling on our state of mind. A call to freedom, a call to right, to write, tonight!

    Again an unrehearsed drab.
    Like the normalcy of the waves,
    a dormancy in undue timeliness
    never to, due to, a stem of indifference.

    A pot of party porragde for the pertinent,
    encouraging your muscle in happiness.
    In the storm, away their towel.
    We are all still learning,
    It's their toe, don't step on it!
    ©de_ife_7 @_de_ifee{TWITTER}@_deife_xp{IG}

  • tracey8737 9w

    I Love You

    I
    Want to
    To tell you
    How much I love
    You.
    ©tracey8737

  • de_ife_7 9w

    August in April.

    From conception, a scarce to behold,
    like a venom that love fails acquit.
    Not to fight, but a lofty permission to delight.
    As the walls of rome, rendered far apart.

    An higher faith than fate,
    Acquire gains than pains!
    To inspire a tired mind,
    is to exact a pleasant young mind;
    The innocence of a child.

    Today I was blessed.
    April and August sure shares shalom.
    With the comeliness of a peacock,
    a vividness to recognize, so it encompassed.
    ©de_ife_7 _de_ifee{TWITTER} _deife_xp{IG} 08050714510{WHAT'S APP}.

  • de_ife_7 10w

    Cows of Bashan

    What can I say, what shall I write?
    in the blue season of harmattan,
    the rude seasoning of sunlight⛅
    Might our race in a black sin be!

    Alien to the present century,
    grab your clubs when you see two packs.
    Herds of ill luck and frustration; enemies of devine vegetation.
    The foretold cows of Bashan of penury.

    Bloody top-hats organize banditary.
    Like the honest deceit of a crocodile,
    they die to maim unpopular hopes
    and bring shit to our fathers' territory.
    ©de_ife_7 _deife_xp{IG} 08050714510{⏱️}

  • de_ife_7 11w

    The Night is Young.

    The night is young; very young
    before us has come many
    Quiteness of undue thirst
    What is so ludicrous?

    A mix of melancholic melody
    shall I go to bed now?
    as sweet is as bitter
    The night is young; still very young.

    ©de_ife_7 _deife_xp{IG}

  • de_ife_7 13w

    Time and Ago

    It's not a time to compose a poem
    to add smiles to your simile
    not a season to dress your pen
    your ink will surely flow with serenity.

    Alliterations and hardened consonance
    won't bring that sensation you felt
    when a poet; you, without stress
    Calliberations of utmost contenance
    won't your reader applaud your quest.

    Time and pendulum are just alike
    like a prodigal carousel goes fro and back,
    skill ago I see from afar.
    I know not of cunny crocodile tears but
    to my fellow artisan composers,
    I would love to say cheers!!!
    CHEERS!
    ©de_ife_7. 09018067950[{WhatsApp}]

  • de_ife_7 13w

    Glow

    It's cold,
    eventually
    our sins have been forgiven us,
    perpetually.

    Crisp sweet scent of tranquility!
    when last did I do this?
    Green trees bud for continuity, posterity.
    So I can still feel this.

    Teach me how to write
    until you hasten Mr. Tortoise
    as white as slow
    as bright and glow
    Glow!

    ©de_ife_7

  • callmesuzi 14w

    healing

    i needed to go away
    to breathe
    to find myself
    and my purpose
    i've realised
    so many things
    in the short while
    i was away
    we can't deny ourselves
    the healing we truly deserve
    ©callmesuzi

  • liz_ogbe 16w

    Unpainted cacophony

    I've stared at this plain slate long enough to be hypnotized...
    The words doesn't just seem to form right.
    It's all clashes in my turbulent mind...
    Like a cacophony of annoying sounds,
    Or more like a thought frenzy taking rounds.

    Happy thoughts..
    Sad thoughts...
    Conflicted thoughts...
    All striving for a place of articulation and meaning.

    My ink doesn't spill black and white no more,
    Neither does it spill gray.
    It's a burst of colours...
    The problem is,
    I don't know the pictures to paint.
    ©liz_ogbe

  • localboy27 21w

    Happy boy

    Ye people living in the mother Earth
    Calling me happy boy
    Because they see me each day
    With smile spread across my face
    Little do they know that behind the smile
    Lies a becoming monster ,hmm!


    A monster I should be called
    But they can't know that
    Because they only look at my smiley face
    And tag me Happy boy
    But I am a becoming monster
    Been Followed by demons like a cow egret
    With skeleton in his cupboard
    With secrets so dark that even the sun can't lighten it

    Hmm!Each passing day ,
    I am left to eat the guilt of the pains I have caused
    The soul that have passed away under my watch
    Seem to haunt me each time in my dreams
    The ocean of sleep even won't allow me swim in it
    I am just a walking dead living on earth
    Waiting patiently for the journey
    Journey to the place of no return

    I carry a burden so heavy for my fragile heart
    Can you people of the mother Earth help me
    For my body and soul is drained
    And ready to dance to the tunes of Mr death
    But I know they can't
    Because to them I am just an happy boy
    Hmm!
    ©localboy27

  • liz_ogbe 21w

    Love...
    Hate..
    Are only but teachable notes,
    Slipped from one heart unto another.

    Hopefully...

    We get to rewrite these generational notes,
    Make our imprints,
    And correct the typos birthed by ignorance.
    Selah.

    ©liz_ogbe

  • liz_ogbe 21w

    She realized for the first time...
    She didn't have to scavenge the hearts of men she called lovers to find love.
    She didn't have to fit a type to receive it.
    She didn't have to be a necessary incubator for his knocked out dreams.
    She didn't have to run miles down broken roads to catch up with love.

    She only had to be.
    She only had to exist gloriously, with flaws shaped in magnificent crowns.
    She only had to bloom and be groomed by one who understood her seasons.
    She only had to breathe...
    And let an abiding love, find it's way to her.

    ©liz_ogbe