Baskadia

IN MY SHOES

When I was born I was without shoes Now as an adult I find myself in different shoes Some of them I choose to buy Some were gifts or so I thought Others, I can't just tell How I got them But, I never stole any. Some of these shoes fit perfectly Some don't fit Some are way too big Others are too tight Yet I wear them Enduring the discomfort. When you see me having them on You admire them on my feet But you may not understand that 'He who wears the shoe knows where it pinches'. We all wear these s

Words

Like an infectious disease at bodily opening floating inside like aromatic scent at nostrils, that is how the sound wave travels through ears processed and integrated in the brain and words manifest. Once altered cannot be retracted so they manifest. Like a virus in the system  emotions are corrupted. Leaving the permanent mark through the thoughts, doubt and worry are some of the output and proof, depending on magnitude in input reflects output. Like radiation harmful words are poisonous. To th

Home

A site where you will be consumed by happiness, and it composed  tranquil,  so cleanness of all harm and evil composed in the world. The bond is not defined by any physical matters but it composed of elements that are real matter. Elements of care, companion, trust, truth and love. Not defined by the structure of dwelling but defined by people and atmosphere of dwelling. A place of belonging, a place of identity is a home.

The Tale of Twist (Poetry)

The beauty of art is in the confusion it brings lol

"WHEN THE NIGHT DIES" (A Short Poem by ALEX O'BOR)

From dusks till dawns The sunrise and the sun dies Everyday is smiles and frowns Time flies, Life dies and phoenix rise WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll wake-up and then embrace my labour suits Lace-up my touring boots And walk-up my paths on the soily sunny miles WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll walk my dreams in due times I'll make haste whilest the sun shines And drink life from the pool niles WHEN THE NIGHT DIES I'll sing hosana hosana to the deity I'll recite my psalm-ons, for i am awake Because maybe some

Clarion call

This is a poems call for people to come back to their cross

Doubts

Doubts beat my mind Confusion sets me behind They say love looks beautiful But pain still has me confined They say love crowns Queens and Kings in delight But heartbreak sets mine in a broken Kingdom of doubts and denial And with nobody to hold through the malign Effect of distress and trials The disease of loneliness rejoices For the failure of love continues to inspire. Doubts beat my mind and set my heart Apart in confusion leaving it behind And out of line to be crowned as king in delights.

Mama Once Said

The guide through life.

Marriage or Obligation

Often in Africa, or in many parts of the world People don't marry because they are actually prepared, But because the circumstances led them to do it as if it were something better in the world. Was it marriage or an obligation? Since people are already united! Getting married because the parents made it or because there are no conditions for survival, In an insecure environment, full of uncertainties about the future That forces someone to choose the path of marriage to stop the influence of in

RESPECT

Don't command respect but persuade respect. Don't disregard it but appreciate it. Don't take it for granted but rather take it as a privilege and value it . Cos they respect you doesn't mean they should be oppressed. Cos they respect you doesn't mean they should be taken as a fool. Cos they respect you doesn't mean they should be used as a slave. Cos they respect you doesn't mean they should be treated as trash. Respect they say is reciprocal ,believe and accept the fact. Don't always exact aggr

JOURNAL OF A WHORE

It was on a bright weekend early afternoon. As I remained there ringing the doorbell tenderly, somebody pulled my pants. "Mom, mom, convey me." Cried a minuscule sharp voice. I really wanted no heavenly messenger to let me know what its identity was. Obviously, it was the voice of my three years of age little girl. If by some stroke of good luck she knew how chaotic it was lifting her up as she had put on a ton of weight as of late. Perhaps more than her age mates however at that point, a mother's affection wouldn't allow me to overlook the little one, regardless of whether I needed to. "Great sky," I murmured, feigned exacerbation, and scooped her up in my arms.

LOVE IN RELATIONSHIP

it more of spoken words

THE THIRD WORLD POLITICIAN

Here he is, The big man. He flaunts his money, To show the masses His affluent and wealth. And the rumours spread, That the big man, Was not a businessman. "But what could he be". They wondered. Which occupation, Made you as rich as a businessman? It was not carpentry, Nor was it bricklaying, Or blacksmithing, Then suddenly we knew! The big man, Was nothing but a politician. An occupation of the privileged Who never got tired of their occupation, Who did more bad than good, Whose personal intere

OH MORNING!!!

Morning, a kind of fresh start reforming what seized to exist, peace. As for me I'll say my morning my peace.

Alone

The unfinished memories

ORIGIN

ORIGIN by Symply Raven. Appreciating African culture through poetry. Authenticity is our root

A Drifted Tale

002 Once upon a time, our love was blazing like the sun- warm, comforting, and suitable. Until the world played with spear and gun. We broke apart, we drifted along the brawl. We first met in front of your house's lawn, now, we end it tragically at that same place. Promises gone by, leaving feelings of affliction. All will be in memories, all those hugs and kisses. Time, distance, communication, and presence, we lose it all, and we slowly grew apart. In our promised place I felt your absence, re

Pain with pleasure

There are no clouds, there is no storm Will it rain? Inside of my heart, ratial riots? Oh my heart! Why are you beating for the love with the person who I don't know before? Which the broken relationship of the distant born, Will follow me beyond the birth? Birth is not true, I found it now because of you. What is your root? And, I fell in love with you, But I still don't know what is your name is! Only your thoughts are buried in my neurones, What can I do?

হিম ছিম রাত

Writing Poetry:MD Shajalal Hossain

At the end

I wrote this to try and show how i felt when i realized that the facade that i put out was nothing more then a lie. The worst kind of lie because it robbed me of my identity leaving me a stranger within my self. Surrounded my the faces of people that claim to love me but the persistent question that never seemed to be answered is how can they when even i dont know me so how could they.