Saturday 30 July 2011

COMMERCIAL BIKE

Two bulky wives
with many kids
and relatives
with planting fields
call for motorbike
to be filled loads.
Don't blame the man!

EVEN IN THE JUNGLE

If you have not been told
that the young and old
living in the jungle
surf the net with google,
check the pic to know
call your friends and show!
Aha aha ah!!!

POETRY CLASS:

Critic:
tailor of souls and minds;
cobbler of human kinds...

Ink:
enslaved by hands and eyes;
displays in different styles...

Man:
user of inks and pens;
that lives with foes and friends...

Mind:
The store of 'past' and 'now'
that calls for smiles and frowns...

Muse:
digger of human minds -
minning to just refine...


Pen:
dullest of every being
that lives on only ink...
Poem:
The end of thinking mind -
displayed in many styles...

Poet:
a fool that troubles mind
only to search and find...

Poetry:
The way we structure poem
and how the mind is penned....

LET'S TEACH THE ENGLISH ENGLISH:

Phonological Blunders in English









Abnormalities in Spoken English...


I wonder how we English speak
without a care for error peak.
And when you ask a phonics hat,
You only hear that - that is that...

I'm not a fool - I can't agree
like those that dived in Pharaoh sea -
that - one can change the 'say' to /sez/,
but never turn the 'pay' to /pez/.
They say the past of 'say' is /sed/,
but never say that 'pay' is /ped/...

I can't afford to call the 'isle'
the way I call my poetry 'file'...
But how can 'ewe' be called like 'you',
And 'p' in 'soup' is not in 'coup'?

And why is it that 'awe' is 'or'
And say that 'corps' is called like 'core'?
And how can 'rapped' be called like 'rapt';
but 'depot' kills the 't' in '...pot'?

Can you pronounce the 'whew' as 'few'
or even think of 'queue' as 'Q'?
Do you believe that 'fete' is 'fate'?
Whereas the 'mete' is never 'mate'!

We only say that 'sew' is 'sow',
but never heard that 'chew' is 'chow'!
You need look at 'show' and 'chow' -
compare to 'sow' and also 'cow'...
And how timbre becomes /tamba/,
but timber sticks to that /timba/...

The phonics hats should seat again
and put a stop to phonics pain...!

MY THUMB UP.

I surf the net with Nokia phone
only because of Poetry Zone...
I built my blog for lyric sights
and share my brain on poetry sites...
I live to die in poetry room
and sweep the floor with lyric broom...
I see the stars of lyric team
in Poetry Zone in all my dream...
I wish you all the lyrics best
and flow of mind with peaceful rest...

Wednesday 27 July 2011

TELL ME WHY !

Why does poetry flow in mind
and convey with ink alone
and provide the space for song
to display with mouth and gong?





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POETRY ZONE on Facebook
http://www.facebook.com/iuoala#!/groups/215321075170286?ap=1

Monday 25 July 2011

POETIC CYCLE

Poetry began with the Muse
from the day the mind was raised.
Asia and Rome on the race
with their eyes like Buttler Yeats
Pariarch, Wordsworth; Allan Poe
Williams, Marlowe and Li Bo
and the rest from jungle zones;
but the death denied their inks
and debarred their lyric blinks
to release and flow for life
with the minds that rescue lives.

As the age of jet arrived,
narrow minds were changed to wide
to replace the taken souls
and refill the lyric holes -
That is now the time we live...
though a day we'll also leave.
Now we are tagged the Butler Yeats;
to rebounce like rocky beats...

Time will come and inks shall dry
and the pen will also die;
Death will soon request for us
and replace the poesy bus...

BEAUTY PAGEANT

A Saturday opened my mouth:
Some pretty girls in jungle zone
displayed their brains to shape their land
for better life in decent styles...
From A to Z they kept their breasts
and all the parts that move a mind
except their tongues and smiling seeings...

Oh dancers and dramatists;
Orators and activists;
Men of Muse and lyric stars!
How I wish a second chance
Fly afar to jungle sight -
Tap at least the jungle tips
displayed by these talented hips...
The beauty here is all-in-one!


Saturday 23 July 2011

THE DRUM COMPLAINS

                                                            

African Drum (Saworo...Gangan)
 I speak to those that hear my voice:
With falling beat and rising tone.
I cherish those that hang me on
and share my says with countless joys...

I speak to those that hear my voice:
In rumbling room I play my part;
With grumbling voice I shape a path,
But so I look like baby toys...

I speak to those that hear my voice:
My sufferness displays your joy;
with curvy cane my heads destroy;
You laugh at me like beggared boys...

I also need a smiling seeing -
I have my right like human being!

Thursday 21 July 2011

Fucking Foreigners

By The Jungle Poet

Not only those that trek beyond
Their mother's house and father's land;
Not even those that join a class
with ignorance and colour clash;
but any being with living soul
that once a day will enter hole
and leave the world the way he came -
like passengers with target frame
and waving night with million stars -
are tagged as none but ''foreigners''!

Wednesday 20 July 2011

A MINDFUL MADNESS

Yesterday,
I sweat hard - and indeed
I was relieved...

Today,
I care for - a bit smile
For the work I've done...

Tomorrow,
I know not - but for sure,
Well it shall be...

Everyday,
My mind moves - and requests
For my ''bests''...

Sunday 17 July 2011

SONGS OF BUTERFLIES

So my folks display apart
when they see the little Stars...
when the men of drinking bar
sit with tones of bottle stars.
So I fly a little far...

When I see the shiny moon,
So my wings display the fun.
When I feel the scent of rose
so I move from fields to folds...
Then I fly a little far...

When I sleep on scentful leaf
So you think I never live...
Just attempt to move closer;
Then I fly a little far...

Saturday 16 July 2011

THE LAYMAN'S POEM

Minding words is not my taste;
All I need is just the key
to the room of greyish Muse -
to derive a deeper dream
that can speak at ease my mind...
That is just my dream for now!

ALL-IN-NEED

Day and Night;
Blaze and Rain,
Land and Cloud;
Up and Down;
Left and Right;
Hand and Ink;
Reed and Sheet;
'You' and 'I';
'He' and 'She';
'They' and 'We';
Black and White;
Young and Old;
Rich and Poor;
Red and Blue... -
All in need!

POETIC LICENSE

Liberty to write with ease;
Writing without gallop;
Stepping on Chomsky's rules;
Striking the Halliday;
Freedom without comma;
Clearing the road for mind;
Painting the way you wish -
Licence to every poet!
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Friday 15 July 2011

HELP THE POET TO WRITE:

Setting: The Poetry Zone (Facebook)
..................................................................................................

                                                                                                           (Enter Lohian and Ojo)
Lohian:                     Dear poets, what are you waiting for?
                                Post your poems.

Ojo:                         I am waiting for the voice of nature to
                                to awake sleeping pen.

Lohian:                     Sleeping pen with it's dreamy ink!

Ojo:                         The cloud is heavy and nature seems to
                                be silent to the plight of my pen

Lohian:                     But, I mean pen is poet and ink is nature!
                                or vice versa

Ojo:                         Yes, but the pen cannot hear the voice of the nature.
                                And the nature quiet to the state of my pen.
                                Oh, when we, the dream, come to an end and
                                I’ll be await to reality...

Lohian:                     Let clouds hang on… the sky hold it for a purpose... perhaps …
                                It knows ... when poetry in you rains!

Ojo:                        Ah, time is on the race. A journey no man can stop.
                               What purpose? What purpose?
                               Can some one speak to my hear?

Lohian:                    Read the new post of Mutiu… the clouds started splashing
                               down!
                                                                                                        (Enters The Jungle Poet)

JunglePoet:              Having done with teaching work,
                               So I entered Poetry Zone -
                               Just to feel the lyric hands
                               And at least relieve my mind -
                               Lohian calls for poets to ink
                               and alerts their minds to flow
                               but it seems Ojo denies
                               to at worst release a line...

                                Lohian calls the Muse to rain
                                for Ojo to drive his mind
                                to regain his lyric inks
                                and display the lyric signs -
                                but it seems Ojo denies...
                                to recall the lyric signs...

                                Help Ojo to ink a line;
                                Call Ojo to check my signs;
                                Feed Ojo with lyric bread;
                                Ask Ojo to shake his head -
                                Then I think his mind will grow
                                and display a lyric show...
                                :D :D :D :D :D!
                                                                                                           (exits Ojo)
Lohian:                     :) It seems Adediji Oluwadamilare Ojo disappeared
                                in cloud in search of rain of poetry.
                                Thanks, Thejunglepoet.

 JunglePoet:              Warmly welcome!

Wednesday 13 July 2011

WHAT MY MIND IS RINGING ME

Ever since I knew myself
and researched about the mind,
I've opined to live my life
for the peace of living kind -
So my mind is ringing me...

Even if I have to start
From the root of lyric grace,
I have vowed to spend my life
in the cause of lyric race -
So my mind is ringing me...

Everyday my soul will say -
that the day is always young;
that the trip of million miles
must be kicked in fact a night:
so my mind is ringing me...

Tuesday 12 July 2011

SAY A BIT ABOUT THE SITE


Going through some scanty files,
Reading through some lyric hands;
Curling from the lyric sites;
Asking from your poetry bloods;
Searching all the world corners;
Getting tips from Jungle Poet;
Calling gods of poetry minds -
Through the verse we call couplet,
Say a bit about the Site.

On My Road: Possible Solutions!


..............................​..............................​..............................​.........................
ON MY ROAD. On my road to worthy world, come across a litle girl. On her chin rolls some drops. Tears of what i never know. With querries filled my mouth. What cause i still never know. On her white attire, my two eyes glanced. Then i saw a dirty stain, so it caused her bitter cry. Who will help my litle girl, to remove her dirty stain? .....Ahmed Bolaji Abdulrauf
..............................​..............................​..............................​............................

Going through your lines again -
how I wish the little girl
meets a man like Jungle Poet,
who can use his lyric lines...
wash away her dirty stains...

Or you tell the little girl
When you meet her face again:
That the stains on clothes can clear,
but the stains on heart remain;
And can spoil a work of years
just within a single sec...

Lull the girl with Jungle lines -
Wish the lad the better ones...

A NEW SUDAN

Years of hungers and the strokes;
Years of colours rule apart;
Years of Omar and his folks;
Years of racists rule desert -
All today has come to pass...

Though we tear the tyrant's strike,
Facing now a new tousle
All because of power bike
That is fixed with free whistle...
Now again we rase the race...

All the ropes of brotherhood,
Just because of selfishness,
Have been cut with sharpened hood
By the pigs of common mess...
Now today we come apart!

SHOUT AND BOW!

If you fail to shout aloud,
You will die with empty mouth!
If you say you'll never bow,
then the fools will teach you how!

BLOOD OF POETRY

BLOOD OF POETRY
By The Jungle Poet.

Blood of poetry flows in me,
Blood of poetry dives with ease -
Dancing all around my veins;
Every day and night it rains...

Blood of poetry flows in me
From the Muse of northern Greece -
Keeping me alive today;
Just for me to share the ray...

Blood of poetry flows in me,
So I play with lyric sea;
All alone without my kin
Like an orphan with a din...

Blood of poetry flows in me,
Not because my mind is free -
Don't you know it's never late?
Share your mind with lyric slate!