Tag: Grief

Turns

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A lot is cast
Many a times, wisdom proclaims
Life na tumbo tumbo
one way or another
The wheel spins to everyone’s direction
One or two a time

The sages said
“A good turn deserves another”
The owner of ages said
“Do good, even unto your enemies”
One way or another
The wheels spins to everyone’s direction
One or two a time

Games we played
Children in the streets
Home wasn’t far away
And the lessons out there
Didn’t make us fall short
We learnt to understand
The lot will one way or another
Fall on every player
The mix of pride and grief
When the wheel spins to one’s direction

One is the victor
Another the victim
Negotiating the future
To taste the sweetness of revenge
Or the pride of forgiveness
For when the lot is in favour
But before then, don’t tempt the gods
Your fears will betray you
And when the wheels spins
To one or two a time
Be sure to have The Lord as your lot


Pearlythoughtz
© 2022

WILL YOU BE?

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The trickle of salted water
Opened up the flood gates of its tap
The fiery gaze of hurt and pain
Like boiling blood
Will you be the hands to wipe off?

The bleeding of the shape I call love
The grief of the cut in two
The loss of the pieces fixed to it
Will you be the one to mend?

Like stones hurled at one
The weight you can’t bear
The pricks it leave behind
Of fear, of poor esteem
Will you soothe my ears?

Steps higher steps above
In doubt and fear
With skills but no grit
Will you be the one to urge on?

My love my perfect
Imperfectly perfect
Frail, grace and calm
Will you hold my hand?

When my eyes are covered with fear
And my hands quiver in despair
When my Feet drown in doubt
Will you be my Anchor

When the day wears a black gown
And the Sun refuses the smile
Hiding the face of the moon
Will you be the voice hope?

Oraegbu Philipa Ada
Olaoye Adeleye
© 2020

Lies At Dawn

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Without the stars appearing on a special
Night, the Angels singing sweet solemn innocent
Tones, jingles, praises to the mean
World that has seen eons
Of pains, love, gratitude, rejections that overwhelmed
Beauties and ugliness we see as tittle and nominal

I wish to be etched in your heart not as a nominal
Singer, but the beat you call special
The sound that leaves you overwhelmed
Our eyes a spark note of innocent
Thoughts that deified us eons
And mortals who are not mean

Men whose inclinations are mean
Can’t even have us as nominal
gods, but great fellows who are eons
Away from their realms. The one they’d call special
Species of rare grace; innocent
Warriors whose tales gets them overwhelmed

Though life may try to get us overwhelmed
It will never make us mean
Or rid us of the innocent
Company of the earthlight that is not nominal
Or make the moonlight serenade less special
Though it has romanced spirits for eons.

We seem to be overrated eons;
Cowered, callously, carefully overwhelmed
Lovely, little, lowly beings called special
Lower than the angels’ mean
Myrmidons, to the paladin nominal
Praying to be seen as innocent

But words cannot be innocent
We are actually eons
Beings that can never be nominal
Beings grave, gentle griefs overwhelmed
In their search of mean
Means of becoming special

To be as innocent as saint Simeon
The special eon that dwells
In this mean tent.

Simeon Chidi
©2019