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The Poetic Word

The Woes Of Orange

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Photo Credit: University of Manitoba

BY GLORIA OKOYE

Dear Phyllis Jack Webstad,

May your legacy live on

May corporations tainted orange 

Never hide the true history 

Of the history this country kept 

Hiding from society for so long 

 

Another year where we are to observe and to sit down with the truth

Truth and Reconciliation day 

Bathes in a tub of being politically correct

With no intention of internal cleansing 

 

Another year of money grabs 

To fill workplaces with bright orange

For some it’s a day of rest in a bed of free cash

While water is contaminated

By the forced pipelines that were plunge 

Against Mother Nature,

People are suffering

Please stand strong Wet’suwet’en!

 

Words, but no actions 

Are like slaps across the faces 

Of the people that didn’t deserve 

The Evil for their kindness!

Future will reveal the retributions!

 

While cities run their now annual routines and meaningless speeches on 

Concrete hypocrisy,

Grassroots get criminalized

And throw to cages

For taken on being defenders 

As their ancestors 

So where is the Solidarity?

 

Rallies uprising,

Camera and helicopters surrounding.

Cars honking out their impatience 

And The Angry shout out 

Intimidations! 

 

Taken residential school survivors to courts 

And runaways that just want to go back home

Celebrating days of genocide the week after

Claiming works of reconciliation,

These are the Orange T-shirt day woes. 

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The Poetic Word

Meaning of Life

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Photo Credit: Freepik

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Religions warned without faith

In a God, or countless Gods and Goddesses

Would mean an unfulfilling life.

Texts adorned with precious and humble ores

Wrapped in myrrh and olive oil

Filled up the spaces of doubt and restlessness.

Caution a meaningless life

Without something to believe in.

 

To have a purpose is a lifelong

Prescription to perfumes and cosmetic

Treatments.

Filled with spices like aloe and cassia

Represent resurrection,

Life bringing,

Purposes differ like fingerprints and snowflakes.

Not one is the exact same,

Only advice and blueprints will guide

But there is no such thing as a solid solution.

 

The meaning of life is unique to each one’s journey.

No need to brag, or put down,

Trading places is more common like

The fields of dandelions

Taking over the vast plains,

A river that breaks into streams

But eventually meet the mighty ocean

Of life

The same way.

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The Poetic Word

Everlasting Flames-to be Submitted

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Photo Credit: rawpixel.com

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Passion being fulfilled

Is like cottonwood fluff burning evenly

Across the land.

 

Not being caught up by any unnecessary

Distractions.

No need to set off forest fires

That don’t need to be provoked,

If there were no blessings

And ceremonies that are ancestral

Wisdom led.

 

Knowing that achievements stack up

Internal minds

Is refreshing to quench the thirst of

Success, like an oasis within a desert.

 

It is a breath of fresh air to the spirit

When all was given so the fruits are

Real,

Unlike wishful thinking without

Determination shown in actions

Is like praying while walking through

Scorching sands.

 

Not distinguishing which water of life

Are mirages

Tempting for a taste,

Deceiving any visions.

 

Even divine messages are lost

If a heart

Stubborn as boulders

Does not listen to the intuitions

Cautioning with series of

Discernments.

A open minded being

Will have doors open.

A humble being that knows their worth

Will succeed without burning any bridges.

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The Poetic Word

Trust In Silence

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

When was the last time

that you sat in silence?

Where every detailed sound

From the whistling wind,

Talking trees,

Busy traffic made of streams,

Tingled the ear drums

Away from manmade machines.

 

When was the last time

Embracing nature gifts

was of great importance?

Spilling secrets

No human mind would comprehend,

Only the wisest ancients

Found deep in the Earth’s crust

Would tell nothing,

No one,

A type of loyalty that no fame and money

Would make it

Turn into a sellout.

 

When was the last interaction

Between skin and sand

Had the body had time to heal itself.

Transferring tensions into the ground

Balancing unwanted weight

Into Mother Nature’s arms.

 

When was the last time

Natural medicinal plants and food

Was replenishing

Detoxing clogged up organs.

Instead of destroying natural remedies,

And claim cures by injecting the body

Will more poison.

 

Relying on money hungry policies.

Bylaws instigating destruction.

When was the last time

Silence was allowed to answer

Mind boggling questions.

Allow silence to discern

To caution on everything around

Only silence will speak the loudest!

Trust in silence.

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