A treasure full of dreams A future wrapped in gold What our indecisions bring Within each box that life will hold Hidden in the square Amongst the corrugated seams Is more than just thin air And the light from distant beams There are memories we have known Within the box that cannot part Like the flowers that have grown Just to touch a gentle heart Upon these feathers within a box I shall sleep on them tonight And to the ticking of the clock I shall dance the angel’s flight Says the label dressed in red, “Never touch what’s in the box” So many thoughts run through my head Of all the moments we have lost Michael 8/5/2021
A field, Jar tightly sealed, Stature small, teal, Familiar feelings. Tired, field mouse, Mired with doubt, Steals from the house, Who take from ploughmen, Stealing from the mouse. A car, Jetpacks to Niam, Feeling large, carmine, Looking down, similar lives, but it's my time.
As she floated through the air She looked down on all she loved as if she didnt have a care Death betrayal and pain All emotions that drove her insane Her legacy she wants to instill in all to be better than most Now she is her own worse ghost You see she always did the opposite of all she said To her but not most her most valued accomplishment is that she is dead She was jugde by all as she tried to stand her grounds and be true to the morals she set As there stare grew bolder and there words direct and hateful she felt death was her only bet So she closed her eyes took the blade and stabbed herself in the chest Praying that god knew her heart best As the blood oozes from her white shirt all she feel is relief And now that shes gone she leaves thoses she loved with her beliefs Everyday she graced this earth with her present she was haunted by her memories that was drowing her in a sea of tear Her biggest regret is not that she lived but that she lived her life in fear As her body was lifed to the ceiling the darkness that once ironically consumesd her was replace with a light And as she moved closer to the light it became so bright There was a voice that she had heard many times beore Telling her this wasn't the end and choose the other door She heard the message loud and clear and vowed to do right And even on her darkest day she remain true to the light Because on that faithful day she died she really literary died however was born again Not to live a life of hell but to do her best and at the end of her road know that when darkness and despair set in she will always win
what sleeps in the forest beside the highway? what lays its small head on dismembered takeout boxes and curls up beneath plastic bags emblazoned with ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’? does it give thanks for small polyurethane luxuries? for the refuse it calls its refuge? what feeds on the grease and fumes from the roaring mechanical parade? does it lick its lips afterwards? what learns to cross the glimmering cement - first timidly, then wanton and triumphant after practice? what watches? what does it notice? what emerges from the forest beside the highway, large and lumbering, to repay the generosity of its benefactors in kind?
“Don’t let me down”, now that’s a foolish way of thinking Response of confirmation, actions not in agreement Not very much Redeeming Like Pandora’s box you’re seeming Like bullets to the chest, I’m barely breathing Confused and in distress, was I deceived? and Was I deceiving? Were you mistaken by my distance and a lack of trust was formed Or was my token of your trust misplaced in your corrupted life form? Are you a demon? But you weren’t demeaning. You boost me up, Above the ceiling was my love Like, not love, allow me to clarify Was different, real connection But anything more than that I inform you, I deny And now I cry Mine, your were not but all of you was with me Or maybe me with you, that’s where I get confused Mistaken thinking Time, as more comes, you will fade At least that what my research say But I swear to god, my image of you gets imprinted on me more and more as I survive the day Leave me alone I don’t want you here to stay Memories in my bone Fractured when I lay Fractured when I wake Fractured me in my waist Oh what a waste A waste of my fight when all I care to take is flight All I care is me and you changed that habit Is that what lies are like? Is the purpose damage? If so you succeed because I’m more than done I’ve lost my sun Although it’s reflection on the moon is a pretty replica You set me up Trojan horse You lift me up And when things got good you sat me down Let me frown Although I hide, that feelings sound That feelings loud Those thoughts clear These eyes hold tears Those drops aren’t mild Neither were my fears So clear Ill steer for now Others won’t be allowed My voice won’t speak aloud Not truth nor words of deep Only traps for the weak, ones I couldn’t put out They were from your slope Your dope became my cloud I guess it’s, both, hello and goodbye for now. If only I knew before, how much you’d let me down.
Everything around is spinning My head can't focus. My body is tired and my mind is crying. But I am still smiling because I know time will change and the silence in my heart keeping focus for a better day.
Trees of lime, Dreams of life, Hearts pleading: Fields of rice, Ears of a beast, Bright green, to the eyes. What is fleeting? What is right? What the audience likes, What God would decide, Like what is meat, What is me, But I need to survive.
Oh, to forget, Castle, all, buttered pears. But what of man? Was he even there? Even one percent, I wish I could share. All art forms a certain length, All on loan, and suddenly end, A dozen eggs, A dozen days, No son, No in love again, Arms too short to hug oneself. I feel as if I double dealt, You tell me what face I have, Where I belong, That you've already won; Wet seasons among, many drugs, I regret: I've already punched. Call me a spade, But I do what I want, And I won.
Speaking kin and fawns, King et al; Kings that become pawns, Lose their powers, Were they a King at all? Kicking the twigs, rocks, Speaking ill or not, Letters and flowers, Red like the Pinot Noir.
The time has come to pass. The hours sound the chime. How do you write such pleasing words that our time has come to rhyme? The smiles that show your heart. The eyes that calm the sea. How do you find the time to love all of the things that rhyme with me? And just like me your bird is free to spread your wings and learn to fly. What is the cause that makes you flee each time that life comes passing by? We are just a plan that life is making. The first romance that’s ours to share. The time has come to rhyme what matters, within the heart that bleeds despair. Come to me now and follow my dreams that uncover the pieces born of the past. The time has come near to make a new change, and untether the slave you have held in your grasp. With each moment I write I am thinking of you. And every word that I rhyme you are near. It is my hope to rekindle a time we once knew, before the heart of true love disappears. Michael 7/10/2021
Stay? but why here, Even statements to fear, So take my leave. Same ideals, Replaced by grief, Pale, like me Frail, like me, Failing, like me, A hasty viking, Eyes stained like tea. What becomes of me, Broadcast of the screen, Shopping once a week? A simple machine: Dirty, Dirt in its seams, Dirt in its dreams, First on the beach, Understanding the piece.
Should one be horrified of nothing? Hook, shore, line, cheeks blushing, Sorry I lack a lively career, Goodbye, deary; My life is lovely. They say no rush, Speak nothing of time and boxes; Wishing they were ski jumping, Even if it begets evil things. One hundred years fishing. Whether or not I am punished, God, brother, life, iron will, I watched the flowers flourish. Like drumsticks desire a skin, Find, then are tossed aside: Tomorrow is unprovided, Yet I will.
Bullet for bunting. What's in the word, That the mouth fit not say. I wield my ink, bleeding words like fire. Fighting to shave off the frailty you plunged on me. You used to be unique, very ineffable. Never knew I was being deluded by wishful thinking. I fought your fight, abate your fears. Rather than return a thousand thanks, you fired me with a cacophony of bullets. You inhaled the oxygen of my love, While I search in perusal for answers. Your words, monotonous, left me in a muddled state. Like a bullet for bunting, I never saw it coming. © Ifediata Kosisochukwu
my god i’m so lonely so i set my small salt lamp on the edge of the window on the tiny wooden ledge i turn the dial clockwise and the light burns in my eyes sending a message to the dog across the street the only one who might be able to understand my mess of signals, signs indistinguishable from the clothes heaped on my floor nobody, nobody nobody nobody nobody, oh, nobody nobody somebody, anybody, nobody, again.
Fresh lemon, Rush of adrenaline, Lime. Time for nachos, No black olives on mine. Salt, Salsa, Sour cream on the side, Cheese in abundance, Swine.
Bring me your all Paint me a picture of your dreams Nourish me with a meal made to awaken my tongue from a tasteless slumber Play me a song so pure and accurate Sway with me in your arms Your touch synchronizes my heart with the rhythm of nature Bring me your all Read me stories that once showed you the way Light my path and enlighten my mind Rearrange my understanding of importance Scold my naivete The power of your emotions ignite my sense of wonder Bring me your all Show me your pain with the intensity of your voice Present me with conflict Show me your anger, Show me your disappointment Give me your broken heart Strike me with fists of passion. Angry passion. I will not cower behind my masculinity. I welcome your release. Your pain will become ours and together we will Stand. Bring me your all Show me your scars where you learned to bleed. Rather, where you learned your resilience. Rise up and fight for whats right Teach me my voice makes a sound. BRING ME YOUR ALL
Be selective, He professes, In a legal setting, Weak, pathetic, The rich and famous, Who knows these things? Like beetles wrestling, Where is a decent ending, By either spelling, Life only glass compelling.
It is far better to dry the ocean and be at the bottom of the sandy sea than it is to rage against the tides hopeless, yet aimless, waiting for solace you fight, you splash, you scream only to be treading water for hours while you could have gotten a towel and then started drying the waters taking a while. But as the level lowers, and as you realize you're drowning either way, it was far better to aim for the sand that it would have been to rage against the tide