WHERE’S MY WOMAN?

Happily Wedded
Think the old fashion African man, very present today on his continent and beyond it. He is steadfast with his dreams of being the master of culture, woman, beast and land, still wrestling with his aimless hopes of always being in-charge; more so when it concerns his defiant woman’s hopes.

Her emotion are singled out, his wishes isolated, little hope for both as her hairs style speaks her preference and everyday she’s a lighter brown.

Emptiness in smiles reveal their hearts create vacancies. 

Her eyes speak her hidden fears, yet she weeps not. Her pride and knowledge rises as their old ride is almost at existence’s verge. He wants what is not given, so much that it hurts a lot. Their affection is true but their marriage is not. There is rage, they feel caged in by the ruse of their time. 

She is too modern for him. She is there beside him but he is not really standing with her, claiming as he does, to be her dedicated man.

His attitude mails nothing she sees, that shows he shares her dream to be free of his control and his peer, not his subordinate.

And he? He wonders where is she, the woman he owns by right?

With the dreams of many
Mine wrestled so bravely.
Amidst hopes so sunny,
They tussle aimlessly.

She stood aside alone
With hands akimbo.
Beckoning even a stone,
A sight commanding a bow.

Humming emotional tunes;
Singled out, isolated wishes.
All engulfed in fumes,
Little hope for securing stitches.

Her hairs say her preference;
Tailing behind as Medusa’s crown.
Her aim in her appearance
As everyday she’s a lighter brown.

The immorality in fantasies,
The emptiness in smiles
As hearts create vacancies;
Hopes dumped in closed files.

It’s bottled up inside her;
The pain of another way.
She is sincere and only prefer,
That’s all she ever will say.

In those eyes that speak
Darkness glows from hidden fears.
The wait’s companion at its peak,
Yet she wouldn’t let the tears.

From mountains of selfish pride
Falls many years of knowledge
And it’s all been only a ride
That’s almost at existence’s verge.

Wanting what’s not given
So much that it hurts a lot.
Shy but ever once beaten,
It’s in these fears we’re caught.

So short ago the smiles spoke,
Or so I thought in my indifference.
Hearts appeared immune to a poke,
Like empty bags in conference.

The affection wasn’t a mirage,
Probably the marriage was.
But the rage in this cage;
Experience defeatingly shall pass.

She isn’t standing with me,
Claiming as I do, to be the man.
Her attitude mails nothing I see,
Then where is she, the woman?

THIS FEAR OF JOY

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Bleeding trees don’t all die.
Into our lives a lot will pry.

The driest seed will germinate,
Its pains would compensate.

All leaves die, dry and fall,
Surely will those today so tall.

The little shoots rises we know,
So will all small people grow.

Every growing bud has its own day,
Eluding this fear of joy is our way.

We tend to go through life thinking we have the most problems. 
It is after all a big part of living to have some trouble and difficulties, isn’t it?

But with the hardship, we mostly have the means to overcome them.

Isn’t it odd, it turns out that those with the most trials end up making the most of their situation and become remarkable successes?

For some reason their difficulties equip them and the rewards of their resilience sorts of compensates for all their many pains.

As surely as time passes by, all of existence will end and so will we all. Every bit of life will end.

The mighty shall become small and the little will grow big and burst, like an inflated balloon.

Every barely visible piece can have its moment in the sun and grow into a big entity, to be noticed by everything else some day.

But this will only happen if we let it. If we let ourselves have those moments of considerable joy…..

And the secret is? 
Letting go of one’s fear of failing.

“Eluding this fear of joy is our way”

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Beautiful Road

Lovely painting for a lovely poem.

Finding Our Truth in the Journey

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One day, I took a different road after work
Even though I had my route all planned…..

Such beautiful things I saw driving down that road….

Pastel blooming flowers
All different hues and shapes…..

Trees elegantly posed by lakes and ponds….
As if they knew photographers were nearby….

The new green buds were blooming…..
The Smell of Spring is not far away….

One day I took a different road after work…
Even though I had my route all planned…
Now I know my way didn’t truly matter…
Because God had planned a different way for me……

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TEMPESTUOUS TRANQUILITY

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The wisdom in every beauty
Is not buried within its scenery,
For its goodness and overt sincerity
Consoles every form of misery
And looses every kind of enmity,
To love its sheer sight and merry.

I love a patch of grass. Green and fresh. 

I could ignore an entertaining game of soccer or rugby to just stare at the grass. I have forgotten to hand in a golf club and a sandwich to my guest as we picnic in the shade, on the grass.

Give me a patch of grass to take a nap on any day and I will consider trading you my bed for a penny. My love for a freshly cut green lawn is massively obsessive and is akin to mild insanity. 

It is like a Tempestuous reaction to the most tranquil of things.

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Amina Allgrownupandborin Mohammed

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Dear Almighty God,
Take into your most gracious embrace my dear friend and sister. Keep her in your divine presence and rest her gentle soul in your most perfect peace, for all eternity.

I miss her already, beyond words. My tears have dried out, my throat is raw.

The rest of my world will not be the same again without our years long endless chats. Sitting across from each other we talked and argued, debated and planned. Hundreds of miles apart, you were ever helpful and ever there to lend a hand, give some advice and edit. Just as we still talked on, mindless of the incredible phone billings, be assured that we talk on still. In my thoughts and in my mind, we talk on.
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This act of cruelty is meaningless, beyond comprehension and reasoning.
Who will want to spoil such beauty and decency, or remove from amongst us?
WHO and WHY?!
Righteous God in our comforter.

Who will understand my peculiarities like she did? Who will be my unconditional friend like she was? A part of me died with you, Ameena.

You were my most special friend, you always brought the best out of me.
I became a better person by just being your friend, a privilege you allowed me.
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Ameena, you died terribly, yet you live on beautifully in our thought.

REST IN PIECE
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THIS QUEER ODE

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Our waltz soothe this blindness
We have suffered as we yearn
For this same blank happiness
That managed all our concerns.

What force carries us onwards;
Fair to our sole wish to love,
Grills our oneness real hard;
That its aroma is sensed above.

That urge we often fear to fight,
Chokes us with its vague numb.
And with time simply waited out,
To our worldly ties we do succumb.

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AA- THE POET IN THE POEM (Cover)

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Little Queen

Lovely piece

Beyond Panic

Little Queen, Little Queen

What can I give?

“Give me your heart,

that I might live.”

Little Queen, Little Queen

What shall I say?

“Tell me you love me,

every day.”

Little Queen, Little Queen

how shall I prove?

“If I come to sit by you,

don’t you move.”

Little Queen, Little Queen

Here is my heart

Long may I love you

Until I depart

“I love you too, daddy.

Now that it’s plain,

Won’t you come play with me

Out in the rain?”

© Alfred W. Smith Jr.

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