IF SHE WERE A FACEBOOK POST by Mide Benedict

If she were a Facebook post
I will never share her
She will remain on a wall
But what good will she be
On a wall, dormant and not inspiring.

(Stanza 1 is unright)

If she were a Facebook post
I will share her into groups
Swift like a finger clicking Likes
If she were a Facebook post

I will share her with my friends
To inspire and make their eyes
Go wide, and even wild
My mama will see her
My brother will do
And my sister too:
And like a Facebook post
They will all click the like tab.
If she were a Facebook post
I will share her with the world
But if any tries to plagiarize,
She will not rise from the page but ice
To such a heart breaking plague.

Comments

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

WHO DOES THIS BELONG TO? By MIDÉ BENEDICT

This is for those Who see life as an unfair land, Where growth is fairly found only On luck's fragile and ferocious tree: It is for those whose eyes only See reality as a coin Always tossed to uncertainty: For those who see misery As an inescapable ditch, Never to be seen when its mouth agars, Never to be escaped when its venom runs, But to be delivered like a slave for a ritual, Thrown like a cotyledon into dry soil, To germinate failure like a blocked well, Hoping to salvage a droughty throat. For those whose first name is lucky, Whose last name is uncertainty And middle name misery, Know that which you know not that The poison in your tongue is The wine your life drinks; It drinks on and on till stupor calls for death And stupidity dresses its grave Like a young man before a mirror, Staring unthinkingly at his face, Till he sees greyness in his eyes. This is for those who see eye to eye With the words on this slate. Image by Midé Benedict

TIED TO FREEDOM by Mide Benedict

Don’t hold me down L ike I’m in some cave Just like a bird flies Where nothing breathes light Through a hidden dark sky L ike an existence lost in inexistence, Locked up in a bottle T hat only lives every day in an every minute coffin Tightened with an unbreakable cover. Free me I said, but you brought me this! What freedom is more painful than Eye balls without sights; faith without work like To walk on a spot; Mountains tied to your legs While eyes go dark As you walk unmoving: In a place surrounded by light; What a freedom! Image from : http://theadventurehandbook.com

Temple of Words

Search This Blog