Baskadia

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.

Distracted Poet

Wrath in a teacup

Tea, hot or cold, like a woman's wrath will flush through A woman's wrath is a cartel mystery A blend of gravel and wool So cold it burns bridges So hot it freezes passion A woman's wrath is tea An overwhelmed waitress serves the whole place, some passerbys even partaking, but the one who's order it is, just behind her, waiting and weary of being served I have been undone in needing calm and warmth I swore never again, deciding to find by myself But By the river you find them sweet and saucy Ben

Fear.

I fear being forgotten, my name and face lost in time. Memories of me faded from existence. Binding me to nothingness. So much ambition with zero direction. As time Flys past isolation and a destructive self image emerges fear becomes all consuming my lips speak into existence the pain and suffering as if i were the orical of destruction. My every step seems Beleagure my very existence. Words spoke from frustration have resulted in the futility of salvation. I stand now a statue of irony an exam

Live

We may not have the time we think we have.

Utter Uselessness

That feeling you get when you wake up late in the evening.

Live A Little

For the likes of me

I am Thankfull

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BIAFRA A HOME NO LONGER A HOME

A poem of how biafra people the Igbo's where forced to become Nigeria... A tale as old as time

A Priceless Pi - To Mine Or Not To Mine

This Pi I mine Is mine Not mine really It’s hers She’s unaware Yet I see on her stories Taunt of those who mine A wise man told her Of how hopeless and lazy we are Conmen everywhere But the future I promised her And the love it grooms Is built on the Pi I mine While in turn she mines me her heart – maybe Faith If this mine never sees light, later At least her heart would have become mine Honey Pie A priceless Pi

Poetry

Poetry (derived from the Greek poiesis, "making"), also called verse,[note 1] is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic[1][2][3] qualities of language − such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre − to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, a prosaic ostensible meaning. A poem is a literary composition, written by a poet, using this principle. The Parnassus (1511) by Raphael: famous poets recite alongside the nine Muses atop Mount Parnassus. Poetry has a long

Stay

I hope you stay with me, until the very end. be true to me and don’t make pretend. like the bamboo who stand and bend— we will never break, we will never meet an end.

The Unexpected Meeting

I have met many eyes, and only i got lost in yours. When our paths accidentally collide, I open to you my closed doors. As I fell, really hard, It was you who catch me first.

Sunrise

Remember when the sun rises, and how beautiful it was that morning, It started to soar higher, to meet its delightful beginning. But not for us, have you forgotten? the daybreak knows why we parted, and how we ended things between us, It was the ending that got me unsettled. As much as the sun knows most of it, It is aware of my fear and shock, however, I understand myself more deeply, for it doesn’t know how much I want you back. So when the sun greeted the morning with joy, and welcoming it to

A poem

Am missing my lover

Padayon: A term that means "Go On"

It's a one ticket bus ride which means one of us should stay, let me be that one; when the time's right and fate will remain patient - let's meet on the end of the platform.

Torment

The tears we shed are not only that of pain. It might be of torment. The torment of not knowing the unknown. We are scared of things that are yet to come. Things that are yet to form. Some might hide, and some might run. But it will always come just for fun. It lurks in the shadows, driving you insane. It enjoys the torment, it thinks it's a game. It feeds off the pain. You can only pray. We all have that fear. Some call it anxiety, and some call pain.

DREAM

DREAMING DREAM

freedom of choice

Freedom of choice I want to develop and fly like a bird, fly so high that only sky will be my limit. Penetrates the clouds without any permit and return to the land as I pleases. I want to be flexible like a waving flag. I want to move in all direction with ease and current of my movement will be natural, but in contrast to flag I will be my own pilot. I want be visible like a flag when I please and disappear in the clouds like a bird if I desire. I want to live in the edge of no danger but fall

A shoulder to cry on

A shoulder to cry on A shoulder to cry on is better than gold, In dark times  it gives energy to go on. Lights that were turned off  will be turn on while it comforts like a mother to new born giving hope and erasing pain of what is gone. A shoulder to cry on help you to mourn providing company until you set on new dawn. It understand why you cry and what you lost. It doesn’t intent to show off hence it never fall short and comes from the least expected with no cost.