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Poetry Workshop
Wednesday, 12 April 2006
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Philisophy

Osazu is one of us, a few of the many trapped.
Trapped right in the middle of our very own souls.
Trapped in a nation which has the least feelings or hope.
Trapped because we have so many options yet not one.
So many routes and pathways; yet no ferry.
When a ferry, no ferrymen or ferry fare.
Then they take to sidewalks they were never supposed to tread.
They come back heaping their woes on you, which is right but who’s really?
It is ours; our fathers and forefathers all are a part of juvenile destruction.
Think of Osazu and the rest.
Think of earth when you are all gone; lonely?
Think of all who unlike Osazu fled.
All the troubles, tribulations, joy and pain you pushed them through; just to survive.
Osazuu is one of us!
A few of the many trapped in the middle of depths.
He is one of the youths,
Who absconded in abject desolation and desperation,
In full pursuit of a better tomorrow

Oby Onye

Posted by cookcomm at 8:40 PM CDT
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Thursday, 16 March 2006
The Voice, by Rashni Rasheeka
Mood:  energetic
Topic: Life

I hear a tender voice somewhere in my mind,
a voice of an angel, that’s how I use to feel
I met her in a secret place, a rainy day it was,
the rainbow and the dancing wind, oh I still recall

She was sobbing when I met her first, alas! still I sigh
Has she crushed her love in reckless hands? that I never asked
“Will you hide me somewhere in your mind?” “Yes” I said at once
She lives inside my whirling thoughts, hush! there I hear her now

When I try to pick some white Lilies, “No” she would cry,
I was chasing little butterflies, there I hear the same
When I play around with hurtful thoughts, yes I’m stopped at once
This kindness which she makes me feel, complicated or maybe soft

I’m a young girl still with full of life, there’s a long way yet to go
And this world is not so safe to live; I mind not saying it’s shrewd
Being delicate as moon light beam, oh! All I get is hurt
“Become the change you wish to see in world”, I hear the angel voice


Posted by cookcomm at 9:47 PM CST
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Saturday, 31 December 2005
Mood:  on fire

Why do you hang an innocent one?
Why has the era of bloodshed begun?
Disobey the commandments,
and you're a Christian.
Reckon, are you even a human?

Why don't you live and let live?
Don't just forget and forgive?
Why is a dreamer being held a captive?
No, leave no trespass undone.
And you call yourself a human?

In the name of God,
kill his own Creation.
Love for wealth:
greater than for any relation.
For the guilty,
possess all advocation.
Human, when last did an innocent
get deserved justification?
For all this, hold no valid reason,
Oh yes! Anti to all, you ARE a human!
Such a creature, can only be one.

Posted by anuj-tf at 4:15 AM CST
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Wednesday, 28 December 2005
God, by Karanam Rao
Mood:  happy
Topic: Religion
I don’t know whether
You are a noun
Or pronoun,
A person or personification,
A symbol or syntax
Of thought.

All that I know is that
you exist somewhere,
Beyond those conglomerate
Beyond the edges of
The horizon,
Shaping our destinies
From life to death,
And back again,
In an endless cycle of
Creation and dissolution.

I still hear your foot steps
Behind me and see your face
In the crystalline waters
Of the running brooks
As silence trying
To break into the sounds
Of prayer.

Karanam Rao

(Submitted to AuthorMe, December, 2005)

Posted by cookcomm at 8:32 PM CST
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Monday, 18 July 2005
Purple Warmth
Mood:  lyrical
Topic: Scenes
Purple Warmth

by Annette Walker

Purple is the deep warmth felt all around.
The rich colors seen in a rainbow
fade one to the next from red to violet
but always rest on
the subtle sweet color of purple.

When watching a golden sunset
on the clear western horizon,
purple is the one final hue
that tells of the coming night
as it touches the land and dips behind the earth.

It is the final taunting to neighborhood children
playing freeze tag down the red brick street
before they must quickly scurry home on scooters and bikes
for bubble baths and bedtime stories.

Purple is the single thin ribbon
in a field of florescent flowers
that reminds us of the soft gentle touch
God has lain down upon the world.

Purple soothes the aching soul
in Lavenders Blues song and rhyme.
It settles the anxious restless child
at bedtime into sound slumber.
Purple is the deep warmth felt all around.

Posted by cookcomm at 10:00 PM CDT
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