Poetry! When Love Comes Around

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The storeadtime team presents you with a serial run of pieces to spice up and accompany your day. Meanwhile, be sure to drop your comments below.

CHARLOTTE
When curved shapes and dots form questions,
And long ropes of cotton bring knots,
Charlotte,
Will you still be my lover?
Would you standby to see the height of my cloud?
Will my lips still be wet from your kiss?
And my dreams, a prototype of my thoughts of you?
Would our love candy light the way for Randy and Emily?
Or would it be painted as colours in Bedtime stories.
Mademoiselle
Who else would my hinds quiver at her touch?
or adrenaline rush at the sound of her voice.
This once,
Play me that song,
Whose lyrics is sure,
Of knotting my heart with yours,
And crossing off our faults
So in that day,
-we dance the dance of Salsa,
Or sing love songs in Hausa.
Charlotte,
Will you bear my name?
And put an end to this heart race.
 © Debbie Mayk

About the Author

Deborah Mayowa kalu is an impulsive writer, weird observer, a daughter, a friend, lawyer, designer and a part of Christs Kingdom.
CRESTFALLEN
With green ink and a weary heart I write
The December heat is surprising
More so, the sudden memory of you
The image, slightly burnished
Appeared like a shadow in the dark
While the yellow-red sun sank into the clouds
In the horizon, adjacent to the east
Waves of emotions, rollercoasters
Memories whirling from the catacombs
They had lain buried
All reminders of me not loving you enough
Of wilting when our bond loosened
Now the mist in my eyes, well like august showers
My pain is profound, my palms numb; the very ones
That loved to hold yours and tuck stray hair off your face
I shall lull myself to sleep now, adrift or reality
Lest the images of you consume me…
© Odera H. U.
     About the Author :
 Udezue Odera H. Is a budding writer with a promising talent in the art. He is a member of Sages Heaven, a renowned literary group at University of Nigeria Enugu Campus.
LOVE LETTER
I loved her
Not as the flowery flourish of the serenade
Or the shallow passion of painted words
My love was the musical cadence of two heartbeats
A gridlock of symmetry
A union forged of conflict
The ever dance of opposites
It was the story never told in words
It was there in the depths of her eyes
It was the  song we never sang
It was a duet of two souls
I loved her
Not as the calming balm for a tortured soul
Nor as the wisp of a kiss at the break of dawn
My love was the shock that brought to life
A medley of sensations too deep for words
It was an ode to complexities
To questions I wished no answer
A mystery- stripped of logic, only wonder
I loved her
Not as a feeling or an afterthought
Or as a flimsy thought of pleasantness
My love was a struggle in the storm
A race against stern currents
It was war-a battle in blurred lines
With forces pushing also pulling
And loss could count for victory
I loved her
Not her beauty or her grace
Nor as angel or as devil
I loved her
As what only she could be
My Muse, my Valkyrie
My storm yet fiery
My dream on waking
© Ihechi 2017.
 
About the Author:
 Prosper Mayor Ihechi is Writer…Barrister…ChristChaser…”I am my own definition”.

BREAKING WAVES
The master mounts swiftly
Firmly, both feet on either side
He stirs his horse at once
‘Gently, gently’ says the bride
He tests the water gingerly
It is inviting, he penetrates no timing
The bride soon learns his rhythm
In and out, back and forth; hips grinding
They ride out into higher waters
The waves rise, they toss and turn
Back and forth, the master rides rough
She moans, she is relentless, she holds on
Higher and higher to the heavens
Two souls locked in ecstasy
Rocking to a desire untold
Until they are lost in its melody
Past the point of no return
They both can go no more
The master dismounts with a groan
His earthy sweat a carnal glow
The new bride lies still now
With the calm of the sea
When the storm is past
And gentle winds come to be

REFLECTIONS

When the club lights go off
And the neon signs read closed
When you stumble in the deserted lane
Leaning on anything, anybody
Do you think of me?
Does my name cross your heart?
When the euphoric feel of climax
Begins to ebb
And you return from seventh heaven
With somebody, anybody
Do you think of me?
Does my face haunt you?
I ask because my goblet
Half drained, reflects your shade
The pills scattered around seem to have
The unusual white of your eyes
The shredded artworks have evolved
Your infectious liveliness
And yes, as I level the pistol, the barrel
Gives the same cold assurance you left,
Assurance of destruction!
INQUEST III
It is not the unread messages pilling
,On a cell phone screen, no
It is the shallowness of a voice,
Such once, a resonance in
your soul
The new squeaky neatness of pleasantries
And lingering half-smiles.
It is the vacant spaces between your fingers
Where another once nested.
That is heartbreak

INQUEST IV

And with the setting sun less fiery,
his shadow grew long
And his ears, heavy,
with the echoes of her song.
Under the leafless tree once again
When the story will be told,
let it be it remembered then;
his love for her never went cold
© Iyang Blessing Brian.
About the Author:
Iyang Blessing Brian,  writes at his spare time, an aspiring human right activist who loves cats. He is also a member of Sages heaven a poetry group at University of Nigeria Enugu Campus.
KILLED
Silence shot a mystery lance
Across this distance created by us
And killed this budding love
Time passed,
It turned
 Foggy fragments on the sands of
Our memories
WHAT YOU KNOW, WHAT I KNOW
You do not know about love
My friend
It’s not of the colour red
It’s not the shape of a human heart
No.
It’s not in the petals of roses
It’s not a body trembling at
The lustful touch of another
The body I know is mothers bruised legs
The flowers I know are for sucking
On the brim and bank of this bridge
The first time I saw red, it was a brothers
blood.
I tell you
Speaking of last night
Love was mother’s protective weight
That smouldered me
In the cold darkness of last night’s rain
© Ike Hillary C.
About the Author:
Ike Hillary C.  Picks his pen when the muse calls, he plays football as well.

 
THE MESH

We have come to a cross-road
And i must either leave or come with you
I lingered over the choice
But in the darkness of my doubts
You lifted the lamp of love
And i saw in your face
The road that i should follow
© Kwesi Brew
 About the Author:
Kwesi Brew, who has died aged 79, was a Ghanaian public servant and businessman, and one of that talented generations who came to maturity during Ghana’s independence 50 years ago. Kwesi Brew was in the tradition of writer-diplomats, producing elegant and elegiac verse. His only internationally published collection was The Shadows of Laughter (1968).Kwesi Brew is our Classical poet of the week.


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The storeadtime team