Poetry

Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough.

Og Mandino

Poetry

My pain

And my bane.

Keeps me sane

When i walk the lane

Of crazy,

Whilst journeying

Into the realms of creativity

And imagination.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Buy me a pen and paper?

More then the sky blue

Just like the blacksmith hammers the gallant knights sword into shape.

Tough times batter me into becoming better.

Lazarus Shatipamba

Do you know what it means for a poet to love you?
Even when your lipstick's smudged and your makeup's dry
He will love you as much as birds love the sky blue.

Tell her, the poet loves you much more then lies the true
When stupid cupid comes around to ask you why
You don't know what it means for a poet to love you.

When your friends come by your house to ask for a clue
How much the poet loves you, without even a try-
Tell them he loves you more then the sky loves its blue.

Say that the poet loves you many times, not a few
When they ask you to answer quick and on the fly
"Do you know what it means for a poet to love you?"

Tell all the people of the wide world the poet loves you.
Even when your own self love does begin to die
He will love you more then the judge loves what is true.

When potential suitors ask if you have a clue
In a voice that's very deep and volume high
"Do you know what it means for a poet to love you?"
Tell them he loves you more then birds love the sky blue!

© 2019 The Poets Peace

The Shining Star

If past history was all there was to the game, the richest people would be librarians.

Warren Buffet

Oh! What can ail thee, shining star in the sky?’
That have watched over me from a place afar;
With your wandering eye, there were the birds fly,
Way up high in the sky to hide from the war.

For many years have I been bright in the night.
Whilst watching over the warm earth with my eye,
I have seen many a thing has dimmed my light.
Such as when you humans make each other cry.

For many years have I watched you from afar.
And even from here I hear sounds as men die,
Rippling through the still air into my ear.
Making me cry as tears with my eye I spy.

And just as men get wounds fighting in the war.
And get nasty scars that cling to them for life.
So has this shining star been wounded with scar,
By what he saw that cut him like a sharp knife.

And so, this pain I gained in my side;
Is what ails a shining star in the sky,
At night when his light is not so bright.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

Buy me a pen and paper?

I

You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.

Christopher Columbus
I am the wind that blows.
The river that flows.
And the mind that knows
How all this really grows.
Born from nothing
I permeate everything.
From the essense of your ring
To that of bees that sting.
Never made,
Hence i will never fade.
Though made into a blade
I will certainly degrade.
Out of time i stand
So my dreams never end.
Even when buried beneath sand
I am able to transcend.
I am the hand
That shapes the land.
The lad that does not understand
The concept of being grand.
My breath, stirs the trees
That sway with graceful ease.
Though i may be on my knees
I know i shall never cease.
I am the wind that blows.
The river that flows.
And the mind that knows
How all this really goes.

Lazarus Shatipamba

© 2019 The Poets Peace

…..

Good morning yall, glad you’re still with us on this day to enjoy this beautiful, inspiring piece by Preetpi, one of the few talented bloggers I started following recently. Go check out her site if you enjoy this piece, there’s more where it came from

ithinkforall

Don’t go back to your old ways,

Try to get out of that mud,

There is love and light for you to grow,

You are still an about to bloom bud,

Hands folded, head held high,

You have to forget your heart’s cry,

When something and someone is pure,

It is rewarded for sure,

Let the times be obscure,

You have to hear past the tumultous,

The sound of nature,

It bestows the real things the strength to endure;

Even if your heart is breaking into a zillion pieces,

Just let the rivers of pain flow,

Because days and nights keep shifting,

But always after the darkness,

We feel the sunrise’s glow.

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A Rainy Day At Last

People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing.  That’s why we recommend it daily.

Zig Ziglar
It was five o'clock in the morning
When the cock gave a warning
That the scorching sun - this day will not be having fun.

The night, 
Was still a dark carpet covering the farmhouse-
Wherein slept the farmer and his wife 
Who prayed profusely to the heavens
For the skies to make like a shower
And pour water on the dying flowers in the field.-

When a flash of lightning lit the sky
So that the sad clouds up high
Began to unleash their sorrows in tears
Wet enough to quench the pain of plains
That haven't drunk water in years.

© Lazarus Shatipamba 2020

The Poets Peace

Buy me a pen and paper?

Man’s Place

michaeljordahl

finalspecies

The whale sang,

But I was tone-deaf;

The leopard snarled,

So I ran away;

The wolf howled,

And I closed the gate.

The elephant trumpeted,

The tiger roared,

And the gorilla

Beat his chest,

But I knew not any

Of their languages.

Sadly, I turned around

And looked at the world,

And man’s place in it.

Unexpectedly, a tear

rolled down my cheek,

And suddenly,

I understood them all.

Together, they cried

Out in one loud voice,

“Save us! Save us!”

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In Windhoek by Lazarus Shatipamba

Go Dog Go Café

You really can persuade a lot of people in nearly anything, but you first have to convince yourself.

Giovanni Ferrari

In Windhoek
city of high hills and pensive poets
who sang songs of high hills and warm winds.

Every autumn
a tree sheds its leaves,
leaving the branches bare
and the ground around it
littered in long dead leaves.

People everywhere
talked of the accumulating dirt
being tossed about by the wind,
and the amount of work
it would take to sweep the streets clean.

The pensive poets
only sang of the falling leaves.
Of how the breeze blew them with ease
and how, as they fell
You could tell how naked the tree looked.

No one sang
of the suicidal teen – that was seen
hanging from a tight rope on the tree.

More poetry at The Poets Peace

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You can do it!

whatever you set your mind to, you can do it!

The Bag Lady

The basic idea is do not live in a cave

Press yourself, be active in every way

Protest for something you’d like to save

Never stay stationary but go out, be brave

You don’t have to be graceful

You’re human, not a gazelle

Just start out, do your best

I promise it will go well

You need faith, with faith you can do all

Just dance, jump for joy, sometimes you will fall

Move into something new, reach for a star

Skinned knees will heal as you reach the bar.

***

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/01/14/photo-challenge-298/#like-19366

https://fivedotoh.com/2020/01/14/fowc-with-fandango-press/#like-39601

https://cyranny.com/2020/01/14/gazelle-word-of-the-day-challenge/#like-51380

https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/2020/01/14/daily-addictions-cave/#like-794

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/01/14/rdp-tuesday-stationary/

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FEAR NOT (part 1)

Here’s some Tuesday afternoon inspiration to keep away the trepidation.

Mind time

Fear not the working world, or the wandering screams that quiver and stroke amongst the shiny silt laden streams. my mortal fear lays unmolested on smooth stones of virgin white, my conscience fear not the flat earth rut, the tall imposing temple wall, or the Red roses that prick and bore.

Splendour instead at the solid ocean with land for waves, which dug of the sea and half-born moon are made. Rebel against the dictatorships glare of the red ringed sun, which only rocks of mind can summit alone, fear not the rays and glare of sunken solitude and burnt worn bone.

Fear not the persistent ivy creep and tangle, resist to hide amongst some starry spires or derelict ruins with cold granite offerings from their formidable shade. Face-front to the internal spectres that haunt your hidden human quilt, where a skins balance crawls true, and yet worldly joys persist…

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