Poems that do not rhyme
show a lazy mind
Poems that do rhyme
stay fresh time after time

Some poems wake up your mind
some poems a waste of time
If you have time, that's fine
I like poems that rhyme

Poetry written by a nobody
We do enjoy totally
No need to wonder why
They rhyme, they rhyme!

I sit upon the rock of silent ages clothed with robes of scarlet white. There are golden salamanders that play at my feet while I place my true hearts intent before my master.



I have seen the bowl of reverberation where the follower’s immersed their self in the tone amplified and purified by the oneness of water.



While deep in the scarlet satin there are offerings for food and drink as well as prayer placed before the master’s feet.



Inside the rings of antiquity of a stags skill and grace was found a flower blooming as an angel’s face.  Beauties abounding within wildlife and nature as the butterflies mark the spot of the song of the earthly point of entry deep in our virtues unseen.

After the wind lifts the beggar
From his bed of trash
And blows to the empty pubs
At the road's end
There exists only the silence
Of the world before dawn
And the solitude of trees.

Handel on the set mysteriously
Recalls to me the long
Hot nights of childhood spent
In malarial slums
In the midst of potent shrines
At the edge of great seas.

Dreams of the past sing
With voices of the future.
And now the world is assaulted
With a sweetness it doesn't deserve
Flowers sing with the voices of absent bees
The air swells with the vibrant
Solitude of trees who nightly
Whisper of re-invading the world.

But the night bends the trees
Into my dreams
And the stars fall with their fruits
Into my lonely world-burnt hands.
_

Source:
http://www.universeofpoetry.org/nigeria.shtml

O ye who travel the meridian line,
May the vision of a new world within you shine.

May eyes that have lived with poverty's rage,
See through to the glory of the awakening age.

For we are all richly linked in hope,
Woven in history, like a mountain rope.

Together we can ascend to a new height,
Guided by our heart's clearest light.

When perceptions are changed there's much to gain,
A flowering of truth instead of pain.

There's more to a people than their poverty;
There's their work, wisdom, and creativity.

Along the line may our lives rhyme,
To make a loving harvest of space and time.
_
Source:
http://www.writespirit.net/blog/archive/2006/12/03/poemsben_okri

So siplme and sewet
yet so nescesray  
our letters juxtaposed
to make words non-imaginary

we read and define
strive to find the line
--------------------------------------
Where words stop being words
a literary crime

Our slang, out of control
tongues tangled, terrible truth
Txt spk bcmes natrl
It feels so uncouth

but what’s important is the form
of communication we seek
face to face, heart to heart,
a poem so meek
as to lighten the soul
and give hope to the lost
a poem is best
to.....

you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.