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  • jswhyte 5w

    Veiled and kept

    Like waking up the early morning,
    You find the sky like a baby, ruddy and fresh.
    Gutsy winds like an ancient princess caresses the land,
    Cooling and refreshing, making the world a better place
    That makes you want to sleep till rapture comes.
    That's how your heart should sleep.

    Noon time, you find the sun beaming with smile
    And the tentacles of her dignity permeates every slice of darkness and coldness.
    You wouldn't want to look up
    Because up is too divine for a fleshy eye to behold.
    That's how your heart should be shine.

    At night, you lay down secretly in the open.
    Darkness surrounds but you are the light
    And so your weapons of sensitivity are as sharp as the knife of a butcher.
    A noise and you're conscious; footsteps and your mind becomes a busy Monday market.
    Nothing else matters; what matters is you.
    That's how your heart should be sensitive.

    Eyes are doors
    Ears are thrones
    Minds are membranes
    And so the heart is a king.
    Guard it, because king is chess.


    Have you read my anthology??
    ©TheWriter
    ©LivingWitness

  • jswhyte 14w

    Tears from a sincere soul continues tomorrow. Stay tuned and don't forget to comment on the poems. They are highly needed. Thanks

    LivingWitness
    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Rape -10

    The land reeks of blood
    Yet we do nothing but to claim peace among the crowds
    The destiny of many has been cut by a sword
    And their bright sun, covered with clouds.

    I have heard a lot; I have seen too much
    They were without violence yet the wicked ones put their dignities into silence
    In their rooms, calamity befell and their nakedness was stolen, without payment
    The smiles few minutes ago turned to anguish and pain followed by an ocean of tears.

    Some of them died in pains; a life with no gains
    Some drank while some ate what was never meant for the flesh
    Others hanged; few jumped; some cut.
    At the end, most of them wasted their life because it was already a bread of sorrows.

    Others remaining still find comfort in their stinging memories.
    They wonder how:
    How do they tell the world that the stains on their clothes came from the hands of the unknown
    With what ears will the strangers hear that they were neither prostitutes nor promiscuous
    How do others want them to survive a crumbled world that took them years to build and preserve.
    Even though the spider and the lizards might know the truth.
    What of the elephant who was sleeping when troubles came with chains and ropes.

    Their lives were destroyed all for the comfort of another.
    What a world!

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Good old past -9

    I love to stay with my parents
    I love their enthusiastic and optimistic views
    I love their tales of my country
    When all was still well and good
    When the cultural heritage and landmarks were respected
    When the young accepted his naïvety and the old, his capability
    When love was still treated as an angel from heaven
    When our leaders were still humans with sensible focuses and ambitions
    When power supply was not rocket science
    When corruption was a faceless vocab in the diction.

    A future we longed for,
    Was once in the past
    And I start to wonder if we are heading to this future with our backs in front.

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Pain -8

    Pain is a mark that blood flows and emotions glow. It is a measure of courage and strength.
    It is a sign that this world would have been ideal if all we would do is to laugh and smile.
    Pain is a voice of disagreements, judgements and discomfort.
    It is the gravity that brings down everything that goes up.
    It is a great standard of desire, cravings and wishes.
    Only a few understands that the world goes round because some bleed and groan while others snore and sleep.
    Only those who have experienced pain can give compassion and love for free without stretching their arms to receive the lust of the hands.
    Pain is only for the living.
    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Hypocrisy -7

    A metaphor for poverty
    A sign of hopelessness in the heart of the living souls
    A state where men put on the conscience of demons.
    They walk on about as darkness that shines bright as light
    Their tongues are snakes that sow seeds of thorn.
    Hypocrites are like chemicals, smooth to the touch yet its vapours are toxic
    Hypocrites are walking testimonies that fire can burn atop of water.
    Hypocrisy is why the moon can dance at night despite not having a glory of its own
    Hypocrisy dwells in the gathering of bold bronze ornaments that adorn the flesh because they shine like gold.
    Hypocrisy is a kingdom in the lubing duping hearts of men who are not ready to accept what they are and have become.

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Abortion -6

    Everyone, everything aborts.
    The emotional, repentant nature of men;
    The mischievous, complacent, dubious acts of men to defraud and corrupt and rewrite its lifestyles for bad;
    The unstable, erratic pattern of rains;
    The disguising, disgusting outbursts and melancholy of the sun;
    The wicked, unreasonable decisions of 'Eves' to thwart the supernatural workings of God through nature in her womb;
    The ground, once hungry for water, ready to give out of its abundance.
    We abort ideas, innovations, inventions, skills and so on.
    Well, it's not our fault; we are just unsure of a future with or without the things we abort.

    I speak as seasons and times and ages; locked up in books looking for a voice to resonate with.

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Firing squad -5

    Health
    Bills
    Reputation
    Income
    Ambitions
    Comfort
    Piety

    This is a squadron
    With guns on fire
    These are the enemies who put a knife on our throats,
    Waiting for a day we'll give up and give in.

    We not only fight the battles of sticks, sands and blood
    We also fight those of fork, paper and sleep.

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Tales -4

    Victoria is brilliant and bright but her parents are stuck to poverty and her future being great is fast becoming a probability.
    Funke's parents are ready to give her the best, but she wants a life of comfort without labour and preparation.
    Ade is fatherless with four siblings, and so he has to permutate his enjoyment and laxity without casting much burden on his mother.
    Kike cries every Fridays waiting on God to grant her admission to study medicine in the university of her choice.
    Ifeoluwa is a beauty with brains but her flexible nature made her vulnerable to the dark antics of wolves in suit.
    Gbenga keeps jumping from a calamity to another and that has cost him his name and young reputation.
    All in the name of survival, olamide has caused many pains and sorrow as he became an expert in cybercrime at his tender age.
    Brown is well respected because of his friendly and refined nature but immorality is his secret weakness, unknown to many.
    Mary's parents are stinkingly rich, but she has passed through five universities because she keeps getting rusticated here and there.
    Baliquees can spend hours on TV watching shows that will not add a grain to her destiny but to carry her books and read comes with begs and appeals.
    Toke became a business woman in school, but she graduated with a third class because she forgot that her tuition fee was paid just for her to be academically sound.

    They were once young,
    Prayers offered during their naming ceremonies
    And great feats were expected from them.
    These are part of the leaders we are raising.
    No wonder hope is dead and our future is in coma.

    ©jswhyte

  • jswhyte 14w

    Penury -3

    Every day, we fight battles
    Our hands find solace in anguish and discomfort
    From a place to another we wander
    Waiting for a day our sweats will become an ocean of prosperity
    Because we have faith in hope, we continue to toil
    Only for darkness to chain us down to the pit of silence
    And so we lay like babies
    As we are woken; pinched by the spears of the sun,
    We realize that tomorrow has come
    And the world didn't change overnight.
    So although the hope was close to becoming a reality, it never did.
    It's because although the world kept becoming bigger by being small
    We were only moving in circles.

    ©jswhyte