Poets are like preachers… Yes, and potters too! With their pens pressing; And their ink plastering; They carve out metaphoric words, Rhymes, and proverbs that prod and probe; poke and provoke; Piercing the conscience Questioning norm Shifting the paradigm…
Category: Poetry
Empty Eyes
Something died. I know. Something died coz The spark That made her eyes glow Is no more. She’s stuck! In a loveless union Stuck Feeling used and abused Stuck! Disillusion her companion Stuck! With nowhere to go!
Country Girl
I love the countryside, it’s true!It shaped all I think and do.And when I need to dream a new;That’s the place I run to! So I did miles to school on foot;As there was none in the neighborhoodI fetched the water and the wood;With my pot on three stones, I cooked the food. You see…I… Continue reading Country Girl