Skip to main content

Because I Was Asked What Love Is | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu


POEM 292: BECAUSE I WAS ASKED WHAT LOVE IS

Love is Chinaware, shiny, beautiful
often broken and rarely lasts.

Love is a special breed of coward
steps out for war, but melts in the sun.

Love is a bouquet of flowers
of roses red and daisies violet

Love blooms and blushes in the dew
but wilts and decays, just like you.

Love is a song of sweet obscenities
of lust, of greed, of addiction that thrills.

Love is sweetness, so sweet, it makes ill
yet at every taste of love, I crave more, still.

Love is a roar, but it is silent, too,
were you in love with me? I have no clue.

Love is phase of fleeting ships
dancing to the music of ocean tides

Love will row uncharted seas
with wanton wishes whispering 'why?'

Love sails like floating feather in the wind
love fades, love sucks, love heals.

Love comes, but then it leaves
you can say it's the autumn of fallen leaves.

Love creeps in, but rushes out in the cold
unrequited love, it dispirits the soul.

Love is sweet sadness easily forgotten
however love tastes, it's never rotten.

All of these could [or not] be love
but love that never tastes sour, is no love at all.

Nay?

#365DaysOfPoetry
#Pengician #SSA


Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and sharing with friends. Thank you!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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