Lazy write

Talent long had, yet to loose
All of me indeed see this, yet to receive
As the grace linger,sanctity, yet to fade
At the height of this strength
All almost lost at this lazy town

Some strength to pull back
That lazy strength from the lazy write
The lazy write to stir the strong
Cheering you, that lazy cheer
For all not to be lost at that lazy town

The glory almost lost to be brought back
The lazy write found the strength
From the lazy friend full of love
Write back to grace
As all is gained from strength to grace

Pulitzer 1994: the death of the dead

Drawn by the drought
From the north to the east
A land of the dead
Some await their death
A struggle with life
Yet the bird await the death

A snap of shot
A turn so snappy
He struggled amidst his death
A prize was won
He won his prize, death  pulitzer prize
The death of the dead, a suicide

The man had his death won
The child had the destiny gone
We all earn a prize
All has a prize, not just the pulitzer prize

Biafra: there was a country indeed

Bombs of hamlet
A split of a heavy two
Spoils of war
A weep of a country
Wiped out by betrayal,
Self betrayal in field of ego

An eerie call
Soldier-born patriots
Bloodshed on these days
The boy set to roast
Out of a Biafran cry
A call from the Pope
For the plea of a fiasco peace

Robbed of an old nemesis,
The booty of war
A retreat it was called
But it really was a flee

The rising sun has fallen
Flat on its face
The red nile dried up in its vein  in vain
The end of a belligerent feud
The nation, an end of a Biafran case
But there was a country
Yes indeed, there was.

                                      

Cloudy days

Cloudy days
Jugde my mind
Not in a court
But am caught in this.

THE POETRY THAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO BOOK-HEADS MEET...

Commonly Rare  -»  “The Purple Hibiscus”

To meet and to appreciate
Is a rare combination these days
I encountered such in 2013's may
On its very first day!
I had sat with a book
Then at it she asked to look
We struck up conversation
We had so much in common  -» Songsta!

So much in common
We felt so honoured
That honour a way to book a day
To meet to part a certain thing
To talk and share a common thing
Not so common to meet your common self
That common me meets a common you
On a very first day with a common book  - » OMH

 - OneMellowHijabi

COUNTS...

Days gone, days to come

As we are at the clock
Ticking it's way
To make, making it count
As we count our days
Counting our feets
Our days are gone

Into the woods
We see no green
A stiller town, to another town
Solace, a quiet town
Counting our time
Yet our days arw gone

The stiller town, a solace town
A two way road, the tiled, rough
Each way are seen
The rough is sin, as tiled is pure
Yet counting our time
New days to come

- OneMellowHijabi