Posted in Poetry

The voice of punctuations, the song of shapes

By Noel Ihebuzor

Punctuations speak and sing.
They hum breaks, pauses and stops.

Shapes float and dance and whisper meanings,
in their shy whispers and gentle murmurs, yet audibly

spoons are no longer just for the table,
even if they still collocate with meals and eating
in these new fresh environments
all descriptive and so so suggestive

*** prompted by a lovely little poem written by SLD

pauses

Posted in Uncategorized

davidtrudel's avatarcreatedavidt

She uses so few words

To say so much

Her verbal dexterity

Is as precise as a gymnast

Defying gravity
 with a flourish

Creatively observing each object

And every action and inaction

Rhyme, reason and contradiction

With the insight of the ages

Sculpting verbal works of art

That should be cast in bronze

Or chiseled from Carraran quarries

By some modern Michaelangelo

But instead

Even better

Her words are winged electric

Appearing wherever they need to

Now

And now

And now

To you

 

 

David Trudel  © 2013

 

 

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How to say it without saying it! Beautiful.

Susan L Daniels's avatarSusan Daniels Poetry

I might say once you sprinkled constellations
in my eyes and scales went crazy
because my smallness could not hold
all of what was blooming
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

I could mention your name was my mantra
for desire, whispered and rolled
under my tongue like a secret
a sweet one
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

I could tell how the magic
of our meeting belled and rang
in a promise unrealized
and faded to silence
if this were a love poem
which it isn’t
so I won’t

this can’t be a poem
about a feeling that almost was
but never became
and so it’s not

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endless cycles?

boomiebol's avatarBoomie Bol

This dance that we dance
It goes in varied circles around the truth
Our present world so small
Yet largely outsized by hate and gloom

For all our advancement in science
Communication and supposed intelligence

Basic humanity, kindness, and love still eludes the best of us

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Mixing politics, economics and facts with strong appeals to emotions – lessons in the psychology of mass communication!

Justin Scott's avatarAfrica is a Country (Old Site)

Kicking off with an introduction from Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka, the short documentary Fuelling Poverty amounts to a very brief Nigerian Fuel Subsidy 101 course. In thirty minutes, it covers the history of the issue and methodically explains how the government (encouraged by the IFIs, by the way) failed its people. By removing the subsidy as it did, the government shocked the informal economy and made life more miserable for a huge segment of the population. Subsequent investigations into the complex workings of the subsidy regime revealed a massive corruption cover-up to the tune of US $7 billion annually.

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Posted in Poetry

Hush the voice

nothing can
ever hush a voice,
not force
nor noise

nothing can
neither philistine jaws
nor grubby grouchy claws
not even green clammy creepy envy
nor raucous hollering of the loud mouthed

can choke
the delicate dimpled
dance steps of a voice
strumming, sometimes
fluttering, then prancing, now leaping
soft, delicate, yet piercing

rich in energy
strolling with poise
overflowing with force
brimming with sense

like joyful water jets
from a dam
fresh, full, gushing,
flowing, freeing and renewing,

inventing and reinventing
For Obinna and Susan, two talented voices!

Posted in Poetry

Thoughts on Time – A duet

By Noel Ihebuzor and Susan Daniels

the sound of time
being kept
but never held

compare this to the heart

beating, ticking
bleeping, never sleeping
yet not keeping time
just hugging and holding scents
and traces from its irreversible passage

if we are keeping time
it should be measured
in pulses never wound
but still driving days
in matched rhythms

rhythmic pulsations
pounding in sync to our
logics and metres, fixed and elastic
always beating, heaving, trembling,
ever flowing, fluid but always alive,
even when we no longer are

yes, endless
in the pulse
we match, but briefly.
what drives us
in metered language
these words a drum
reflecting
a greater syncopation

we march to match
to catch that syncopation
moving our soles
and souls along trails
at once linear and at twice
circular, always forward
and occasionally recursive

 

***Another spontaneous poetic conversation on Time with Susan.  As always, it is a pleasure to write with Susan, whose words are italicized. Mine are in regular text.