When we Awake
When we awake in the morning we continue the gift
We are given the chance to live and uplift
For we are the chosen to grace this fine orb
And whilst we are here it's our learning absorb
Many hands will release as they have grasped
It's holding these grasps that are our life's tasks
As we cup our tomorrows by step we will learn
The fortunate will prosper to adult from bairn
All our today's we will hold in our hands
It's out there somewhere, awaiting our plans
Soul Of A Saint, Life Of A Life
This poem you now read
Is of a wonderful man
A brother of old
From a far away land
He stands for so many
On this planet we call earth
To their hearts he was taken
A man of worth
Georgia, Malta
Russia, the Ukraine
To all they admire
This difference of men
In the country of Alba
The Kingdom of the Scot's
When the Saltire flies
We forget him not
On the 30th of November
To the Scot's so true
It's his day
Our patron, Saint Andrew
Publicly Shamed, Allegedly Framed
It's not my fault
I'm not to blame
You have no proof
I will
show no shame
I am a father of four
And you accuse me of this
I'm
internally destroyed
To get your wish
Figures and statistics
For
crimes you can't solve
Let's pick on the innocent
Your conscience
resolved
To hell with my future
As you walk away
Another
bent system
And I am your play
I Remember the Day
I remember the day when comments were the main
They're all very instrumental to the Soup's mainframe
Some comments are influential that created other writes
And many were like tuition that kept us crisp and bright
But there now appears a drought growing larger every day
We need to increase our comments as they help us write our says
Maybe it's time for change, for the Soup to alter it's route
Many foundations have recently left, will others follow suit
The columns showing us the views, tells us nothing at all
How many have clicked on a poem thinking that's a bit of a trawl
So another poem was open and not a word was read
So basically the views are worthless, because comments are our thread
We can learn from our comments but we will never learn from the views
It's our democratic choice for all, of what we do and choose
Nothing stays the same for ever as it appears to be
It's still the worlds best poetry site, that's down to you and me
af-rui-ka
The African countries lived well by themselves
Until the white man crossed, continental shelves
I can understand adventurers who decided to roam
But not the conglomerates who raped as they combed
The British in Sudan and the French colonies
Never helped Africa being brought to it's knees
This beautiful continent enjoying political appease
But it has a powder-keg fuse that can light with such ease
Angola, Uganda, and Rwanda hit the news
Civil Wars and Genocide once again man's abuse
The biggest sore it carries in this quite wonderful place
One word, slavery, white man's ultimate disgrace
It's not for me to say about a place I don't belong
It's just such a tragedy that it's seen so many wrongs
This continent called Africa, African through and through
Adeleke Adeite, be proud to be you
Conditions Within
Allow this day to
Pass this cool want of script to
Not say taboo asks
Writing for writing
Try it, crafting to apply
Conditions within
Baa-lair and His Lost Sheep
There once was a leader called Blair
To the Iraqi war he declared
Like little lost sheep
None of his party did weep
Not one was found dead lying there