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The Poetic Word

The stories on my inked skin

Published

1 year ago

on

Photo Credit: Dan Prado

BY GLORIA O’KOYE

I made sure that every inked needle pierced into my delicate skin

Was earned to the fullest. 

Call it ol’ skool 

But I want to know what was the meaning behind each complex design 

On the days I ask myself 

Why on earth did I do it!

 

These tattoos tell stories 

Way better than expert lens 

Or audio recordings 

The ink paints a vivid picture 

Or encrypted messages that sometimes

Can only be decipher between the physical temple

And Creator

 

These tattoos aren’t for clout chasing 

Or to give off an impression of the 

Big & Bad

Just like what the machine supposed to do,

Permanently leaves its mark 

It has a more therapeutic essence,

A deeper philosophical story than 

Surface cracks. 

 

I sought relief from the continuous pain 

So, I won’t resort to the blade 

To erase shattered reflections

The shards that pierce the scars 

Reopening secrets 

That was protected for my namesake. 

 

So, if I get judged and lose opportunities in securing a steady job

So be it. 

Because they wouldn’t care to hear a squeak of my struggles 

And if my life were to be taken away 

They would brush off the burden to insurance 

And

Post up ‘Help Wanted’ signs the very next day!

 

These tattoos tell stories 

That no words or written work can share.

So, if anyone were to see the tattoos making assumptions,

Just remember it’s on the surface you seek

Only a part of the story you’ll know 

Until you speak to get 10 toes deep.

 

This piece is not to encourage the route I chose

But to give a different glimpse 

Instead of whispers

And entertaining 

Untold assumptions.

 

May you seek more than surface impressions,

And get to know deeper 

the person that you are speaking too.

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The Poetic Word

Everlasting Flames-to be Submitted

Published

6 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

3 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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