I Believe In Dreams
I believe in dreams,
The only light to a future,
Not yet sure,
Yet felt.
I believe in dreams,
For by their dreams,
Nations were born,
In barren farmlands.
I believe in dreams,
Beyond imagination,
My only hope of
Genuine fulfillment.
I believe in dreams,
Watch me wallow,
In what my days will be,
From posterity's heart.
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Shadows of her past
She wronged humanity,
Taking away its form,
Holding its own seed,
And placing it in history,
One history never known.
stealing the life,
With the doctor's knife,
And ceasing the breath,
Of a new life on earth,
A life never felt.
The shadows of her past,
Haunts her at last,
Leaving not a single sanity,
But misery and tragedy,
What a life poorly spent.
All she wanted went quick,
Quick and swift,
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Disillusioned
On sighting those long black legs
I rearranged my skirt
To display my graceful curves
Of pure african blood
Immediately I spiced up a poem
Of uncouth lyrical voice
Starving my falling lids
From slumber
He drank from my pot
Diluting the words
Not a word said
Not a single emotion in show
He smiled at my note
Showing forth masculine beauty
Smiles of sorry songs
He needed beauty not lines
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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The frog and damsel
My sweet princess, oh how much luv u show to me, a lowly frog, my ugliness doesn't chase u, but charms u..U are not gutted by my look and colur. my croak Is like music in ur head, oh how much I want to jump with my powerful limbs and kiss ur soft lips..
You lied to me, you lovely frog, you deceived me out of your nobility and humanity to believing that you, my handsome frog knows nothing of poetry, I am impressed by ur humility, but most of all I am struck buy my new very genuine need to know you more, maybe a kiss wouldn't hurt, and then I could turn into a beautiful frog, and we can live happily ever after!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
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Tales of my past
Don't write me down in history,
In reference to my past deeds,
Works I derived no joy from,
Or mistakes of those years.
Don't write me down in history,
The ages gone show little of what I am,
That part of me is truly done,
My dreams now can say it all.
Don't write me down in history,
The lessons of life flows in my blood,
My blunders are now my teachers,
The scars now my daily pledge.
Don't write me down in history,
I am yet to achieve perfection,
Still I strive for redemption,
Searching the soil for my lost glory,
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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With Love Chikwado
WITH LOVE
CHIKWADO
When the stars tell
The chimes of bell
And rivers drink
The shred of sinks
In an ocean across drops
A new life dies and sprout
When the night falls at day
And the candle light remains at bay
A new song I chant
By the dawn of ant
In a group of sorrow
Pains beyond life's row
When the sky bleeds
In sunny heavenly seeds
Your name plays a rhyme
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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An African writer
I am an african writer
with the melodious lyric
flowing rivers of endless music
with words filled banks
of rhythmic juice
I am an african writer
the flower with the sweetest nectar
colourful juices of flowing oceans
oceans of endless streams
I am an african writer
dwelling by the shrine
in earnest worship to the gods of poetry
invoking my elders before me
warlord of the verbal war
I am an african writer
born with a pot of words
Caressed with the river of the niger
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poem by Venessa Ambrose
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