Awfully Broken | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 195: AWFULLY BROKEN
I've seen butterflies zigzag around flowers
perching and sipping nectar
only to be trapped in the mouth of a toad.

I've felt the intense sweetness
of one soul mating another
and then peel apart with shocking fierceness,
I think life's too long to have just one.

I've tasted honey in honeymoon
and danced salsa in my room:
but the loss holds a stronger stench doom,
that preceded the loss of you.

I've lost many and gained a few
I've pulled sundials off the blue
I've once with divinity been in sync,
and then lost touch with everything.

Like deep rooted guilt and inbred fear,
I'm a new moon afraid of light.
Like dreary tales I dread hold dear,
I'm flora bloom that see no night.

True that, I laughed, I loved, I live,
but oh, I lose me everyday!
although for peace I'm desperate,
For though I laugh, and love and live
and lean like lines on loose logs,
no tear erupts from my tear ducts,
and my burden lifted not at the foot of the cross.

I know there's crimson left for me
though I run late and undecided.
Yet I cannot feel sorrow as deep as He'd love
before He lets lose my share of crimson.
I'm forgiven and already washed, maybe,
but I feel no single joy
for I am awfully broken,
beyond repair, maybe.

#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician
#SSA

Comments

shy, a poem

bashful, timid, quiet. shy If anyone you know has used these terms to describe you, you're probably a bit shy. Everyone feels that way once in a while. Shyness and social anxiety are common, no matter how old you are. There is one myth about social anxiety and social anxiety disorder that I would like to dispel. The myth says that social anxiety is just exaggerated shyness. This myth encourages the idea that anxious people are merely weak-willed pushovers. It is partially because of this myth, I think, that well-intentioned people offer the relevant but insensitive and patronizing advice like, “Don’t worry about it!” , “Just do it” and “Face your fears.” Thinking on all these, I wrote this poem: shy when a shy person speaks, it's like music from guitar strings. when a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out when a shy person steps out it's like the uncommon visit of gods when a shy person reclines it feels like moon eloped from night when a shy person is 'i

Dustbin And Drafts - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 142: DUSTBIN AND DRAFTS He was the night sky, She was a star, Always together, Never one. He wrote what he felt for her of how her twinkles light up his dark. But they never get to her. One more note was added in his drafts. Fragrant pens and beautiful poems Pink papers and artistic handwriting. She wrote about the beauty in his black of how they make her twinkles shine. but they never got to him. Only the dustbin knows how much she loves him - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends. Thank you!

For Leah Shabiru - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 136: FOR LEAH SHABIRU I can't find the words right To describe Leah's plight. I hope this little piece of mine Awakens our voiceless unconcern. Does she feel giddy? Does she still cry? Does she look out the window and heave a sigh? How long shall this gravity Hold her down to these rascals? I know she kicks but in vain I know she whispers prayers to her God Or maybe she now doubts his existence. Does she wish her breathe be gone? But she's just a teenager Who dreamt of leaving her deadbeat town One day she went to chase dreams The next she was never found Sunrise and sunset have come and gone and Leah is still in the devil's lair. You and I, we eat, we sleep She's not our own, we care not a bit Until same fate cross our path Trample our wives And rip our hearts Only then shall we realize in Leah died our very soul. - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog