THAT OLD PAST

baby_shoes
I miss a lot I never saw,
Its still aloft yet old as raw.
I missed much I still can hear,
All that such still remains here.

I miss old ways in past years,
Those old nays and crude yeas.
I crave for the meal I never ate;
Yearn so much for a feel I never met.

I miss soft tapping finger tips,
Strapped swinging held swaying hips,
Swishing feet on glittering marbled floors,
Flowing gowns, paired feet in coupled fours.

I miss good music guided by tiny sticks,
Quiet audiences in silent peace that reeks.
And when they dance, its like a mute hymn,
Tapping away on hard soles, following a rhythm.

I miss husky sleepy humming lullabies,
With honest night stories full of nice lies.
I miss trained hands on black and white ivory keys,
And the sweet old past would ever numb all knees.

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FLIES AND LIES

BB-29042012145 (8)
In so many eggs
Form these pests,
With hairy legs
And little nests.

Homelessly so
They come alive.
Into lives they saw
Like a heartless knife.

Hollow dreams,
Misty realizations.
Spiteful screams
Claps consolations.

Hopes are meals
Infected in feeding.
Health it steals
With insidious seasoning.

Into lives
Glide monsters,
Flee and leaves
Sorrow in clusters.

Sightless lie
Full of might,
Visible fly
Trading fright.

Coming true
In various ways.
Ever they’re new
In buzzing forays.

Mail your worst,
Untrue are lies.
Come the most
You’re just flies.

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AA- THE POET IN THE POEM (Cover)
Collection of over 250 poems
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309

POEMS: Learning, Common, Sweet, Flies and Lies, Suicide & Tomorrow

LEARNING

Walked the streets of time,
Shine, lime and slime all mine.
Feasted on the sound and hype,
Swallowed their mess or its like.

Life is any game of choices
With only too many forces.
The world is its playground
For its grown-ups with sound.

As laziness enjoys much rest
Deprivation teaches the best.
Humble are all the best needy,
Craving the means of the greedy.

Seeing our race with time,
And how poorly we rhyme.
Watching our feeble shine,
Learning all the miserable time.

COMMON*

I try wetin I fit
With all dem gist.
I join, cook, wait!
Water yet, no meat.

SWEET

That haste of taste
All too late to waste.

FLIES AND LIES

In so many eggs
Form these pests,
With hairy legs
And little nests.

Homelessly so
They come alive.
Into lives they saw
Like a heartless knife.

Hollow dreams,
Misty realizations.
Spiteful screams
Claps consolations.

Hopes are meals
Infected in feeding.
Health it steals
With insidious seasoning.

Into lives
Glide monsters,
Flee and leaves
Sorrow in clusters.

Sightless lie
Full of might,
Visible fly
Trading fright.

Coming true
In various ways.
Ever they’re new
In buzzing forays.

Mail your worst,
Untrue are lies.
Come the most
You’re just flies.

SUICIDE

From where comes all this dew,
Delighting thoughts with to chew.

Soothing pressures that boo,
But sound frightfully so lewd.

I grabbed the wind horn I blew,
For I alone do hear it so true.

A loss I think I’ll cause you,
The pains might escape a few.

My swift scheme hardly new,
Like good cheats daring who.

Life is the full pot of new stew
Emotional foot found with its shoe.

TOMORROW

And come
It home.

That window;
Our mirror.

It makes
As wakes.

Another date
For fate.

Another day.
Oops, away!

Lets pray
And say.

The morrow
Will show

Us about,
Run, shout;

Shoulders high,
“Tomorrow’s here!”