Being Aloof

The pursuit of happiness is the chase of a lifetime. It is never too late to become what you could have been.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

Asked the dog why i’m so aloof
Like a wolf in his youth, on the roof
With no proof of his preys hoof.

So jumps off to land on the boxes that go
Boof boof boof when you land on their roof.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

When the dog asked why i’m so aloof
I knew i had to tell the truth truth truth
Like a lover in the truth booth booth.

So i made sure i have all the proof to prove
The truth of my words in their youth, youth youth.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

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A Philosophical Poem about Beauty

Hey guys, hope you’re having a fantastic Friday.

I just wanted to take the time out to share a poem i wrote several months ago just when i started taking this poetry thing seriously.

The quality isn’t the greatest but i hope you enjoy it because i certainly do.

Here it is below

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!

© 2020 The Poets Peace

Michael Mubitta

Procrastination is like a credit card: its a lot of fun until you get the bill.

Christopher Parker

Oh! Goodbye to you my good old friend.

You who’s life did sadly come to an end
In the most gruesome of ways
At the cruel hands of boys
Never want you to see better days.

You who many a good times i did with spend
Basking in the presence of your light
For you always followed the way that was right
Even during times when it was not bright.

Oh! Goodbye to you my good old friend.

For now only, for surely in the end
You and i shall meet again in that place
Which high up in the sky has its face
Looking down on people of many a race.

© 2019 The Poets Peace

This poem is dedicated to all of us that have lost someone close to our hearts.

It goes out to all those that have made our hearts their homes but have simply left to go gallivanting across the large, unknown world of death in search of a longer lasting breath.

Mostly, it goes out to my good friend Michael Mubitta who recently lost his life before he could even make a plan to get himself a wife.

My life is a little less dimmer without the light of your shining personality.

Know that you will always be remembered by me, my pen as well as the pages of poems that will live through the ages.

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Simon Says To Fawn

Once your thoughts reflect who you genuinely want to be, the appropriate emotions and the consequent behavior will flow automatically. Believe it and you will see it.

Wayne Dyer

Sneaky Simon Samuel Stevenson Shawn-
Quite sure you've never heard the name before
Was a boy who many names had to spawn.

At dawn, Simon Samuel Stevenson Shawn
When he sneaks past me on way to the store
Prefers it when i fawn at the name Shawn.

Yet, during the eve he wants me to mourn
The one he takes at dawn, for one before.
Then he goes by the name Steve and not Shawn.

But one day when to the dam we had gone
He tossed Steve into the deep dam before
My eyes and took up the name Sam, not Shawn.

One day, Simon Samuel Stevenson Shawn
Just when i began to think that no more
Names would be coming my way, said "Simon-

From now on will be my name when the dawn,
the evening and the deep dam are no more.
For Simon's the name with which i was born
And Simon says, you should begin to fawn."

© 2019 The Poets Peace

to Ruin

The measure of a life, after all, is not its duration, but its donation.

Corrie ten Boom

As I walk down the road to ruin
Alone and frown faced in the rain
I ask myself what I stand to gain
Where I to lose my grasp of when

And where exactly I need should be
In order for my mind to be free
Of the plaguing picture that its me.

© The Poets Peace 2019

Ode to the Fish in my Dish

We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

E.M. Forester

They say, there are only forty fish in the sea.
Swimming from coast to coast, away from the big boat-
Belongs to the fisherman keeps it free of flea.
So that on the oceans calm waters it will float-
When at night he goes out with all his gear to cast,
His net in order to catch the fish no swim fast.

Oh you! fool fish that has ended up on my plate.
Where were you when all the other fish went to school?
And were being taught how not to get duped by fate,
When she tries to bait you into biting that tool-
Used by the wise fishermen of old to hook fish,
From the depths of the sea straight into our dish.

Oh you! Fool fish in my dish that I ate with thrill-
For you tasted like a sample from the Gods meal,
Even though you were only prepared on the grill.
I hope in my stomach you swim around with zeal.
For although it is not as big as the blue sea,
You shall at least from the wise fishermen be free.

© The Poets Peace 2019 – Lazarus Shatipamba

Heavy Head #1

You will never be the person you can be if pressure, tension and discipline are taken out of your life.

James Bilky

When my heavy head hits the pillow
I dream about being a hero

Soaring through the clear blue skies
Like a bird on his way to save the lives

Of chicks at rest in the nest-
Nestled in the branches of the tall tree

Teaching them how best to set
Their wings free when in sky they want to fly.

© 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

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The Vacant Chair

Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. But, today is a gift…it’s why its called the ‘present’.

The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
For it has not been sat on since you left to warm
The bed of some lucky guy who’s hinges have not rusted
To the point that they could not be trusted to hold
The full weight of your soul that’s whole in your body.

The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
Fast accumulating since last you sat on it
To warm with body as well as wiles of women
You used to seduce me into out of its desk
Pull it slowly out for you, just so you could sit.

But you tired and left it in a state vacant
Of your touch and the support it had to give you.
The chair in my heart has started to gather dust
Since you left, so sit in it by myself I must.

© 2019 The Poets Peace