POETIC JUSTICE 172 -By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

YES, I KNOW YOU ARE NOT

Why waste wealth of time
Trying to convince the hearts of stone
That you’re what is sublime
Let them be blowing their rugged horn
You know that you aren’t a geek
You are the blossoming flower
An epitome of what they seek
But can’t find despite their power

I have shared a piece of your own mind
Served hot on a platter of gold
In assiduous pain, I followed you behind
Your spirit is naught but bold
That sends shivers to their spine
Keep piloting priority that makes you unique
Don’t deviate from your passion’s line
You’ve no need to prove the worth of your beak

You have walked your walk
Even in the scorching belly of the sadistic Sahara
You have talked your talk
Despite the venomous dictates of the Savannah
The more your flag flies
The more your accolades begem the mantelpiece
You belong to the skies
Do fly always with the sparkling royal geese
Copyright©William Warigon 2019

POETIC JUSTICE 171 By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

TEXTUAL FEELING

These books around me
Smelling fresh giving new lease of life
They are knowledge’s sea
Their depth educates for needed drive
The words embedded therein are food
To the soul and the spirit
Give me a gift of a book, that is good
Powerfully, I’ll soar with a lilt

Books have healed my broken heart
And hushed my harsh loneliness
Reading has become a loved up art
It rains down on me happiness
The book at hand
Is more worthy than money.My own friend,
If you do understand
Grab a book, be better, knowledge won’t end

Navigate through the jungle of ignorance
Taste the tanginess in the books’ breath
Be immersed in their wisdomic parlance
To your brain activity, add to its strength

The books I read have nobility
Each with its flair and smooth style
To fit my moods and activity
Keeping my intellectual field fertile
They are treasured beyond measure
Some may abhor
Others do adore
Love them, keep them like a treasure

Copyright©William Warigon™2019
(Happy Book Reading Day!👍👍💕😁)

POETIC JUSTICE 170 By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

WHERE TRUTH LIES

Truth, where do you lie?
Lie, where is your truth?
Repeatedly, the truth turns to dust
By the lies retold over and over again
The forbidden territory
Has been desecrated by the thorned tongue
That spews venom
Worse than the black mouthed mamba

Rhetoric so sweet
Like the Savannah’s sugar
Reality is chased to take a flight
Good reason lured to the barn
Of chicanery and charades
Facaded faces fanciful in fakery fair find
Repose in the cloisters of deception
Heroes of hell in angelic mien

Their paws gnash at harmony
But their tongues preach peace
They sing the best love songs
But their daggers are bloodied
Like the paraphernalia of war
Wherever they set their feet
Sweet dirges pervades the air
They bathe in sorrowful tears

They have perfected the art
Of pure, holy deception
Trust them at your peril
My ears are grassed by the manure
Of their potent lies
No more would my eyes be wooled
I have seen the light
No more would I be a doormat

Copyright©William Warigon™2019

POETIC JUSTICE 169 -ByMshinaram Warigon Ahrey

WHEN MY FACE TELLS TALES

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Just look without prejudice
I am a product of injustice
I have walked on hard roads with misery
And swum in the deep blue sea of poverty
Each mark deeply etched is a tale
That has the chord choired in hell

I have a map on my face
That directs the unknowing eyes to my inherited roots
I come from a dark place
Where wolves like werewolves wrest wills to the woods
Bereft of light, I walk with sightless sigh
Dazed in my troubles that make me high

I am the cynosure of deriding eyes
Children scurry away from my face
They think a tiger tore my face
Songs sung by many, telling a million lies
About my face, a reflection of my race
What is marked in permanence never dies

In every foreign land
Their stares were bland
They thought I was a mere charity case
Because my tribe was marked on my face
A Boniface, bearing burned face
Mine are always the darkest days

If only I could turn back the tide
And cripple the hands of time
Miracled time can take back ride
And restore what was mine
But alas a wishful thinking
Is just precious time wasting
Copyright©William Warigon™ 2019

POETIC JUSTICE 167-By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

SITUATIONSHIP

A situationship
Is a relationship
That can be found in vacation
Or created during a vocation
It might be an infatuation
From a very quick situation

A situationship
Is a friendship
Or a meet-and-greet in the ship
Some don’t take it as real kinship
It might be for friends with benefits
It is good for the fits and the misfits

It is never a one sided way relationship
Consensual it has to be
To make it comfortable companionship
Both parties are happy
When they ignite their fantasies
They swim in oceans of ecstasies

So, diligently evaluate your relationship
Don’t get caught up in infatuation
Being in-love-with-love is a brief situation
That is based on temporary passion
It is never an old fashion
To be balmed in loving lotion

Copyright©William Warigon™2019
Pix:Powertolove.com,Bellanaija

POETIC JUSTICE 163 -By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

KNOW YE NOT?

Don’t you know that you are special?
The evidence is as clear as the blue sky.
The nature reveres your special disposition
That is why she holds you in great esteem.

You own qualities natural and spiritual.
The sun, moon and stars situate high,
Shine for you despite your earthly position.
You can also shine and not be a wimp.

The tides come to shore to kiss your feet.
It doesn’t matter if the feet have warts and all.
The free winds are eager to put their hands,
Through the strands of your lush hair.

Fire shines your gold with its free heat
Warming you with coziness to have life’s ball.
The seasons change batons in your lands
To give you choices suiting your flair.

Be then thankful.
You are wonderful.
Known as beautiful.
To you be useful.

POETIC JUSTICE 160 – By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

THE RURAL DWELLERS RULE!

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The city slickers arrived our village
With Pomp and pageantry like royalty 
We welcomed them to our village 
With variety of food fit for royalty
We stretched to the limit our arms
To welcome them with warmth wholly pure
That could melt glaciers.Our farms
That very day we abandoned for sure

We closed our eyes
When they looked down their bleached noses
At our water without ice
And sniggered at dinner spread with no roses 
They declined the calabash of our local brew 
They came with can beers and the brandy 
In awe we watched them eat canned rice stew
Humbled, but our kids clamoured their candy

Yet, I remembered my journey to their city 
Where the air was conditioned with soots
My ears sandpapered by noises so unpretty 
People racing against time with fancy boots 
Hearts cold, cantankerous co-exchanges over mere money
Pitted rich neighbour against another rich, sad neighbour
I saw pain, despair written on tenants’ faces. Rich kids lonely 
Have phones only, poor ones unschooled, kept in child labour

I’d rather stay in my village with my spring water 
The air is fresh like morning dew
The people are laughter with no bone of a hater
Our piece of peace daily is new
A helping hand avails from every corner
Health and vitality are our co-travelers 
No ritualists as mood killers and thunder
Is kind with sounds of music for revelers

🔴Copyright©William Warigon 2019.All Rights Reserved.Pix by pixabay.com.Inspired by Philip Mainge