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The Poetic Word

My Fear

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

My fear of speaking on different issues,

Is the unsatisfied public?

“Is that your lived experience? Why on earth do you care to talk about it?”

“Is your bloodline these people? Go worry about your own before helping out others!”

“Don’t speak if you don’t get all the tiniest details perfected. Oh make sure you do this and that!”

“Wait what! You speak on things you want to learn? They would be disgusted if they heard you don’t do that!”

Your voice and curiosity to go outside and explore,

May be shut down by closed-minded doors

If I have a passion for many years

But didn’t know how or where to start,

Wouldn’t a piece to spark interest from those who are willing to teach a genuine heart?

My fear is speaking out different issues

Are the ones whose intentions was to protect.

“Why soak yourself in a tub of traumas?”

“Why bringing up the past?”

If my work brings more harm than good

Than I would agree

And take a break.

But if writing is the only way I speak,

Would you cut out the only way for me to express?

The silence is a deadly silence

For voiceless.

Vocals been shut down by those

Who rather shut the uprising?

Out of self-doubts and selfishness.

To speak out to gain fame

Is the reason why mistrust was planted in the first place?

So from a place to open up

To capture those

With relatable ears

From a place where I speak

To gain more insight,

Of heart stricken issues

So I can sit and hear!

I am no longer allowing

Outside voices

To silence me

No longer allowing inside judgements and non constructive criticisms

Have me worried.

I am dedicating the next several

Pieces of my art

To share some inner stories.

I am no longer fearful of how people may think of me!

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The Poetic Word

Anger!

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Photo Credit: Way Home Studio

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Anger.

Is an infected seed that spreads

Its parasitic roots amongst the healthy,

Sucking out all the energy to feed its

Hostile core.

 

Anger.

A cry for help

Gone unheard,

Dismissed,

Ridiculed by others

Until it is too late to reverse.

 

Anger.

Weeping entities that grew into behemoth

Icebergs that sank ships of inattentive

Folks that didn’t take heed.

Gasping at the inferno storm

That engulfs the intended targets

And catching strays.

 

Anger.

Sprouted by variables,

Some reasons more legit while others

Are confused because of pride.

It can be blinded by veils of blood red,

Tainted by innocence ravished

By the world’s ice-cold hearts and eyes.

 

Anger.

Shoots out a barrage of arrows

Formed by words without thinking twice.

Venomous words at the tip of the tongue

Can cause landslides of emotions.

Sometimes it can cost lives.

 

Anger.

Does not discriminate.

It hits harder on genuine souls that

Constantly get bullied,

Turning their kindred spirits into a beast

That will destroy until nothing is left behind.

 

Anger.

Cannot be fully avoided.

Only reactions be tamed,

One can only fully embrace

To calm anger

Till the end of a jagged road,

When the answers behind Anger

Can be acknowledged,

Laying it to rest finally someday.

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The Poetic Word

Art of Political Warfare

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

War without logic,

Is like planting seeds without knowing,

The seasons in which the seedlings

Will rise and thrive to the heavens.

War strictly on emotions and passion,

Is like showering the seeds

With overwhelming resources

Without strategy.

 

Too much water, sun and soil

With no calculations can cause

Undetected diseases to destroy

A seed’s crucial foundation.

A society that follows social media justice,

Is doomed when things get real.

 

Protection warranty behind twitter fingers,

Keyboard warriors,

Would defeat the right to remain silence

During mischief court hearings.

Without teachings and common sense,

Fear tactics will prevail.

 

If one enters a movement to find love,

To make friends,

Dangers of destruction are at hand.

Those will come natural

But can never be promised,

How many organizers fall victim

To the matters of the heart.

They gradually forgotten why they were in

This the first place,

This journey can be lonely throughout.

 

An elder and veteran with years of

Political warfare once told the emerging

Youth,

This war is not for the faint of heart.

You must use logic,

Must use your head.

The heart,

Is the reason to push

But it can never lead without the brain

And a plan.

Or be prepared to lose the war in a

Quick pace,

This life has no space for childish games.

Remember the people need to win!

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The Poetic Word

Sweet Child

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Photo Credit: AI Generated

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

A rejuvenating, sweet, innocent newborn scent that can melt the coldest of hearts.

A salve that soothes the itchiness left by worldly scars.

First of everything,

From smiles to sounds can bring peace

Piercing heavy clouds.

 

The purity of a child brings wisdom that can humble

The wisest of teachers from afar.

In the first few weeks of life,

Skin-to-skin between parents and child,

It can strengthen lifelong bonds.

 

It promotes life through connections,

Never underestimate true parental love.

The love of a child can save lives,

Can uplift even when dangling by a thread

Above the turbulent winds

And treacherous seas of fear and doubt.

 

The love of a parent

Can break the lineage of trauma and hurt,

Uproot tainted family trees

In ways that insanity has no way in,

Only culture and traditions can come to full fruition

As they fully sprout.

 

Sweet child,

Don’t ever say that you are never enough.

You came just in time

When the glimmer of hope wants to dim out.

A love of a child

The mind of a child,

Is what the world constantly lacks.

 

Only a childlike faith can enter the gates of heaven,

Surpassing forefathers who grew cold from a dying world

Lies and deceit,

A child will heal those wounds and breathe in life.

 

That power

Sweet child,

No one can ever take it away,

It is highly favored from beyond human comprehension,

Continue to be you

Sweet child.

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