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The Poetic Word

History Repeats Itself

Published

1 year ago

on

Photo Credit: Jakayla Toney

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

History is doomed to repeat itself.

Ancestors suffer 

Descendants fulfil karma,

Vice versa 

It never ends.

 

Eye for an Eye

Till no one sees

Is a myth that needs to be stopped

The young are getting caught up in wars

That they barely even know about.

 

Let the children be children.

To laugh and play,

Not befriend with weapons of mass destruction,

And pay visits to the graves.

 

How dare they claim to be elders?

And Originals, 

When the knowledge came to cease.

What happen to the teachings that kept them alive?

While watching the ones who haven’t even

Begun to start their lives turn deceased.

 

Sending babies to do the dirty work,

And when the storms arise destroying communities 

The older ones are nowhere to be seen.

Other than building up their families and filling up their bellies

While the young eat clout like rabbit meat (Emptiness turning to starvation)

The young will not see past their teens.

 

The leaders are to shaken to be in the trenches 

Like they forgot the career risks when they first went to college.

The warriors are exhausted,

Even their statuses cannot save them from scrutiny and being targets. 

 

The age continues to get younger,

When the city went on lockdowns

The mental health became a hurricane of downpours and forgotten voices.

 

Continuing this path would only lead to a point of no return.

History repeats 

As the Great Famine and War 

Emerges. 

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The Poetic Word

Everlasting Flames-to be Submitted

Published

2 days ago

on

April 25, 2024

By

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

Published

2 weeks ago

on

April 11, 2024

By

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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The Poetic Word

How beautiful it would be to love again

Published

1 month ago

on

March 28, 2024

By

Photo Credit: Prostooleh

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Like relearning to crawl,

Taking baby steps

Praying that there will be no falls.

Reopening back up a secured vault,

Filled with luxuries of the most potent

Human emotion,

A necessity to remain sane and strong.

 

It cures and reverses illnesses.

Prolonging healthy life

Once the barriers crumble

Like brick silos.

 

A renewed love resurfacing

Unhealed wounds

To be properly treated

Instead of decaying.

 

If only love could exist

Without any historic chains

To pierce the tender flesh

Of a beating heart

That wants to love,

Not to risk being in pain once again.

 

How beautiful it would be

To fall in love again.

Heights being reached

To know what it means to love again.

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