De Worthiness of Argument
(A little argument spices up luv
And life now and then)
Widout women,
Dere would be no men.
Widout men,
Dere would be no women.
Widout women and men,
Dere would be no argument.
And widout de spice of argument,
De world would be seasonless and full of zombies.
poem by Gabriel Eshun
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
We Are More Alike Than Unalike
Let the gong-gong ring through
The living rooms of Canada Singapore New Zealand
Russia India El Salvador Poland China Botswana Switzerland
England Papua New Guinea Brazil South Africa
Japan Australia Ireland France Vietnam America…
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN from Thailand Italy Saudi Arabia The Beloved Country
The Hope The Land of Two Rivers Sao Tome &
Principe Seychelles Equatorial Guinea St Christopher and Nevis Kiribati
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
From Yamoussoukro Antananarivo Edinburgh Ouagadougou Oslo
Bandung Karachi Abu Dhabi Lesotho Accra Kabul Harare Cairo
Kuala Lumpur Tel Aviv Lisbon Windhoek Abuja…
Let the gong-gong bring first
THE CHILDREN: Their seats are Ready!
Come all you children of the world
Come all you children and take your seats
[...] Read more
poem by Gabriel Eshun
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tale of Two Stars
The mind of Sun smiles from the centre
The mind of Moon beams from the corner: they seek
Body to put on the Beam Bang to ensure a universality…
Moon says to Sun “you are hot” And Sun says
To Moon “you are cool”. Sun without quenching glow
Asks: What bores you Moon” Moon replies “a Sun that
Is dull” Sun asks “can a Sun be dull” Moon retorted
Oh, so you don’t have this coverage”
Sun opens instantaneous hotline “sorry, I thought a
Sun radiates on halos like you”. Moon twirls, the toss of
Blondeness touching Sun’s brunette! Then asks Sun “what
Drink would you like” Sun replies, I am a ‘totaller, Orange
Thanks! Thru flagrant osmosis Moon presses keys that
Titillate like “the IQ of zebras will be great on a Mensa…
And Sun lifts his voice and sings an Akan drum
I call gold—gold is mute—I call cloth—
Cloth is mute—It is humankind that matters”
Sun buys Moon glass of her choice boasting warmth
[...] Read more
poem by Gabriel Eshun
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!