In taking a stride,To avoiding many tides,They’ll call it pride.But never hide….coz,They never want you untied,Or lack the tell of how you cried;Making your life’s description as…”he lied”For the mere ‘liked?’…. Yikes. Died….Thus is the expression of masters.Them that dealt with these faster,Of heights, they just but forster,Accomplishments to them are in a cluster,The onlyContinue reading “Be a boss.”
Category Archives: Poetry
A runner?
Running has always worked out. Think about it, hiding is actually running, not so? But to what end? Case in point, Santa’s hoax:” I’ll bring you a gift*soon*, yet all men want, is his sledge; wouldn’t you rather wedge through life? Getting to the edge has a way of making you stop the dodge, asContinue reading “A runner?”
Challenge me ..
Coupled between the dark unknown alley and the scary memory lane is a light. At times dim, other times bright. Funny, everything that happens seems to have itself in writing, it makes you wonder, are you scripted? A smile loves a laughter, an outing demands friends and a younging; his running blood. Many talk ofContinue reading “Challenge me ..”
The down-low
Deep into the abyss she stared,Wondering whether a tear drop would reach the bottom.“Pointless, already at rock-bottom,” she said.The darkness of the chasm, Piercing the very soul;The pull in the eyes, Shattering every hope.But tears alone don’t give the blur,So could a glow….Stargazing she crept,Heart racing it went,Blood pacing she felt,Downcasting…a melt,Ask the DJ… he’llContinue reading “The down-low”
Him, YAH.
Many would love to fly,Many end up getting high.I….seated with Him in the high places. Many more want to fly something,All they’ve got is the memory of a kite.I….under the shadow of His wings. Many are the pilots in series,But this….I call this, p~(h)igh~(f)loat.I don’t mean to aggravate language. Behold the beginning of levitation,Ascendance courtesyContinue reading “Him, YAH.”
My Rock
Used crack hoping that would make me not crack,Unlike the Hulk, as a hunk You still hacked in,A mere whack to unveil the wreck, the shack beneath the facade.Then You made me pack,Coz that’s what You do,Restore us to the right track.Trucks’ trunks might be used in banks,But true treasure is found in the Ark.AndContinue reading “My Rock”
Revived
Revived,The cure after being deprived.Don’t we all love to thrive,Without strife or having strived;Conscious of the tide,Anytime we take a stride?(But life has its knife,No, no, not the wife.Away with that…choose right)Maybe this time go for a drive,Better yet… Say a dive?A taste of the tree of life.Revived.@Daabris
Okay….
Death!At the verge of death,Heard of ē living dead?Could we call it limbo or stasis?Is it really:Coercing of some notion,Culmination of an insurgence,Cooperation to the corruption,Crippling of motion;Cease of life…Drifting from devotion.Fast and furious,Could be perilous,Moreso when insidious.Here’s the conjunction,Mind the junctions;Even Ferraris have red flags.Crossroads. @Daabris
Virtue
Innocence,The benevolence whose despise,is the lack of sense.Once upheld as of essence,now deprived of presence;and in the stead of nuisance.This crest of incense,food to your conscience,bread to your uprise,folly to the unwise;key to your sunrise;in other words….peaceShouldn’t you now think otherwise?@Daabris
New age
Yes we’re on a voyage,could be your own carriage even,but mind what you call your entourage;lest you desire scourges.But then it is as sweet as porridge,for those who got the courage,to ridge to THE HERITAGE,they like to call them “of the ice age.”Such have the real ownageA place without carnage ~Daabris
A word, a phrase, a poem. The art of Art 