Baskadia

New week blessing

A time for new beginnings, A fresh chance for change, A time of hope and potential, Let this new week arrange. May times of joy and laughter Bring us out from our walls, And miles of memories made Drive away our sorrows. As the week unfolds its fortune, Let us be graced with good luck, In mind, body and spirit, Our paths can never be stuck. A blessing for a new week That our lives may be blessed, A chance to learn, improve and grow, And our worries laid to rest.

My Mother Has A Photo Album In Heaven

My mother doesn't read books, she reads people who read books. like she read my cousin who was pregnant at 16 because she tasted lemon dewdrops in early sunrise and the bittersweet experience of motherhood never left her palm like a written note. my mother could read fever just by placing hands on the forehead of her child, you could say she was the MOM in therMOMeter because my mom never kept us in a room temperature... to say, she didn't want us to get spoilt, she tightened up every corner tha

Give Your Black Boy A Flower

Your black boy Is a garden of stumps, his heart is rooted out of a fertile ground for you to plant a dream on his Humus skin. he Is a machine Void of human language. He understands solely, his breath on your skin and the sweet nectar of your pineapple lips. Again, he is an illustrative painting of your dad. He watches you grow Into his arms like sweet alyssums sprouting in early winter as he lays on your flower bed nurturing his lovelessness into something. And of all that he deserves... the ros

Overwhelmed

i wrote this poem a while ago

Poem: short

A piece of jerk Following around your work. So irritating That someone monitors your work, Moves and successes And you feel their stare. And glare. Well, who cares? I live my life the way I feel. Not bothered by what you assume of me. Cause assumption is not always the truth For I know my own reasons for actions I make.

Vengeful Flames

Burning bright with fury and hate, Revenge consumes me, it's my fate. I'll make them pay for what they've done, My anger rises like the sun. I'll plot and plan, I'll bide my time, Until the moment is just right. Then I'll strike with all my might, And watch them suffer in my sight. No mercy will I show to those, Who wronged me and caused my woes. Their pain will be my sweetest pleasure, As I exact my vengeful measure. But as the flames of revenge die down, I'll be left with nothing but a frown.

Ode to Life: A Tapestry Woven with Laughter and Tears

Life, a tapestry so vast and grand, Woven with threads of every strand. Births and deaths, a constant hum, Love and loss, forever come. Laughter rings, like windblown chimes, Echoing through childhood's climes. Sun-kissed days and starry nights, Chasing dreams in joyful flights. Passion burns, a fiery pyre, Setting hearts and souls afire. Love's embrace, a tender hold, Stories whispered, never told. Loss descends, a whispered sigh, Tears that fall from tear-filled eye. But even grief, a teacher

The New Modernism Fate

This poem is written by Jennifer Dowson from United States of America. Poet's photo is attached with the poem. 🔥

Nature

Nature is a very good source of inspiration

Homesick

See the casting of the night How the confused coil flaunts its stars🌙 Well, it gives an excuse to sad hearts I stare at the light of each one Maybe my eyes shine like a star Maybe in the blink of an eye, our hearts were patched together Tonight is an endless night Dawn is missing and crowing of roosters is sleeping We are drowning in silence and suffocation My heart is tight❤️‍🩹 He has no choice but to hit bones silently and walks in fantasies

Summer breeze

The winter comes, In the disguise of a rainy day. I felt so cold, I can't make you stay. You gave me, a short-time warmth. a love I thought, would stay in my arms.

7:30 p.m.

A poem that could easily be a song about something that will never come back…

The points accounts only when, millions others, follow now and then

Let me spit these rhymes first, before I get, to the points, and topic worst, Then the pick, of your crimes, sicking artist, to rehearse, From the core, sweating pore, swearing shore, with the daily chore, To study, with a buddy, for a lady, to be daddy, and be quite shady, With the quiet passion, tearing nights, with compassion, wearing whites, onto mansion, Gearing diet, with a pension, while hearing, me right from, the pension, Cheating the bloody, diddy tension, to beat the Jade e-invasion,

For my friends, family and followers

Roses are red, violets are blue Your support is what I most love and appreciate, It's because of you my dreams comes true And motivation to progress never dissipates. The love and admiration I receive Is enough to make a heart sizzle and soar, Your belief and generous gestures I would never deceive And forever be grateful for what you have in store. Your comments and suggestions Are always welcome and appreciated, No matter the situation's pressure You make me feel respected. My followers, I wan

Poem:Forty Winks

Sappy feelings I've got tonight Untold stories must reignite Entralling evenfall outnumbered by stars, Lustrous moonbeam rally my scars Tenuous clouds and flowery eyes; Don't dismay at goodbyes.

A POEM ABOUT BATTERY OF LIFE FOR YOUNG, ADULT & OLD

In youth's vibrant frame, a battery charged Full of time's promise, energy enlarged Yet scarce the coin a humble currency Yet rich in dreams, a boundless sea An adult strides with pockets full Energy brimming, ambitions to cull Yet time, a fleeting currency Dwindles fast, a measured decree. The old man sits, a wealth of years Time and money, joys and tears Energy wanes, a gentle ebb But riches amassed, a life to web Differences stark, yet similarities bind, A trio of batteries, intertwined Youth

Dreams Coming True

Dreams ain't meant for the shelf. They are to come to reality. Its coming true brings joy to the soul and fulfillment to the heart.

THE MOON'S REFLECTION

022 The mood above is as calm as always, the exact opposite of my heart's beatings. Its reflections on the clear waters make me feel closer to its bench, so close and just within my reach. And yet, it was far and beyond me, too far and impossible to hold his regime. I loved the moon, the calm and serene moon. But it was too much, too deep for me to atone. It would always belong somewhere, somewhere only the likes of it can enter. And I would just continue to look up at its supremity, ignoring th

THE SINFUL POEM.

The poem should be sorry to itself. It is a felony to fall in love and loved as one of many options. The poem and I should not fall in love, It is a short cut to grave and no human being can be trusted. A sin to a poem is to show that God is the source of all problems to his people. In additional to we have no one to trust at all.

I DO NOT LOVE EXCEPT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU (POEM)

I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly. Maybe January light will consume My heart with its cruel Ray, stealing my key to true calm. In this part of the story I am the one who Dies, the only one, and I w