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Graffiti Foot Prints…

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The graffiti talent
Could very well be harnessed
To tell meaningful tales
And leave foot prints in the sands of time.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

What if your poem could be scribbled all over a giant wall? Check out @atownend intriguing prompt for Writing 101, Day 8, Graffiti.

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The Artistry of Graffiti…

Artistry of graffiti

The artistry of graffiti
Can be quite an entreaty
Which makes lithography of geography
And tells picto-tales of the polity

They are made by toughies
Who appear like Buffy
But inside they are really fluffy
And are simply all goofy

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

What if your poem could be scribbled all over a giant wall? Check out @atownend intriguing prompt for Writing 101, Day 8, Graffiti.

Body Graffiti…

body tattoo

Her body made a huge map

Even a cat was having a nap

Painted all over in a snap

Her tattoos shone like a lamp

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Like Graffiti telling tales

She even had a few males

Who seemed like they were in jail

And needed money to make their bail

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Two of them drank ginger-ale

And another a simple tattle-tale

The other man had a long ponytail

And he sang like a Nightingale

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She had a dragon too

Whose breath was hot all through

It kept her warm at night

When it was no longer light.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

What if your poem could be scribbled all over a giant wall? Check out @atownend intriguing prompt for Writing 101, Poetry Day 8, Graffiti.

Image credit: Pinterest

He Loved Me Through It All…

God love 2

He loved me through it all
With every stumble, every fall
He simply made me stand tall
And loved me through it all

Unfailing, whenever I call
He became my all in all
Even in sorrow of my own fault
Still he loved me through it all

Though heaven and earth
May pass away
His promise to love I know for sure
That since he has called me his beloved
He will love me through it all.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

There’s always room for more poetry about love — and @vijayasundaram2015‘s prompt, Beloved, invites you to take a fresh stab at a timeless topic.

”Thank you Vijaya” 🙂

She Called Him Mine….

enduring-love

They loved so much,

That a blind could see it.

The fruits of their love,

Was quite clear to me.

She called him mine,

And he called her Nkem,

Which also meant mine.

They were each others backbone,

One couldn’t go where

The other would not go.

And this way they stayed together,

From their youthfulness,

To their greying years.

Till death stole Mine away from Nkem.

Now, I watch my mother flounder,

Without my dad by her side.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

There’s always room for more poetry about love — and @vijayasundaram2015‘s prompt, Beloved, invites you to take a fresh stab at a timeless topic.

”Thank you Vijaya” 🙂

I Thought That I Knew…

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I heaved and panted.

With all my might,

I pushed.

Till I thought that,

Every vein within,

Would burst with pressure.

And I hated every moment,

Of such horrendous pain.

Wondering what was the gain?

Until I beheld the squalling bundles,

And their curious little eyes.

I felt their fist snatch tight,

And held my heart very fast.

The pain flew out of the window,

The light of the gain shone bright.

As I tumbled completely in love,

Without hindrance, I fell.

Realizing that I had no idea whatsoever

I thought I knew it before.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

There’s always room for more poetry about love — and @vijayasundaram2015‘s prompt, Beloved, invites you to take a fresh stab at a timeless topic.

”Thank you Vijaya” 🙂

Through His Iris…

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Dearly beloved,

We are gathered here…

And the rest of the word floated…

…Over my head

The thrum of blood in my veins slowed down to a sludge,

My heartbeats changing it’s tandem,

So as to echo yours,

A splash of fruity yet full bodied wine into the glinting flutes,

The clinking of cheers at the tips,

We imbibed our first sips,

Now bound together at the hips.

My eyes beheld and clung to yours,

In deep search for the echo of my thoughts.

In there a mirror of myself, I found,

Caught up in the warmth of your iris.

Days have come and gone,

The years have rolled on by,

Yet every time I gaze into those eyes,

They have stayed the same.

With the mirror of me,

Held in the warmth of your iris.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Writing 101, Day 7 Beloved

There’s always room for more poetry about love — and @vijayasundaram2015‘s prompt, Beloved, invites you to take a fresh stab at a timeless topic.

”Thank you Vijaya”