A poem

[Trailblazer]

Hallo My Name is Miles Oganetuma, I am from Nigeria.

I have spent many a year in London between the years 1997 and 2003. I have and will always be in my heart a poet like my hero Benjamin Zepherlli. Here is one of my poems that has a comedic twinge and is about the constant use of cell phones in the UK.

Phones

Phones would play inside her head
And where she slept,
They made her bed
And she would ache
For love and get but phones

PHONES

Lordy, child
A good days comin
And Ill be there to let the sun in
And bein lost
Is worth the comin home

PHONES

You and me, a time for planting
You and me, a harvest granting
The every prayer ever prayed
For just two wild flowers that grow

by

Miles Oganetuma

 

[Mutt]

lol

 

[night]

Lol indeed..
"comin"

 

[Tajike]

Hallo My Name is Miles Oganetuma, I am from Nigeria.

65% for you, 15% for your business associates and 20% for me. Last offer.

 

[night]

Hahaha +rep

 

[jatin]

65% for you, 15% for your business associates and 20% for me. Last offer.

Haha, it looked like a scam mail from the first line, i bet Tajike was hoping it would turn out to be one!

 

[Jaboldinho]

I believe I speak for all of us when I say: lol.

As every1 thought at first so did I: this is a scam mail. But obviously not, just a pretty odd poem about PHONES!

 

[Yossarian]

65% for you, 15% for your business associates and 20% for me. Last offer.

LOL....hurhurhur.....too funny, man.

I don't know which is funnier, the poem or that response....both pure GOLD imo.

 

[MaestroZidane]

the poem is funny, but tajike's response is just Sublime..

 

[Trailblazer]

Thank you for kind words

And Tajike we in Nigeria dont scam, Scams all say Nigeria cos it only Africa country you have heard of. We Nigerians are tricksters not scammers

 

[leungtl]

Nigeria cos it only Africa country you have heard of

I think you're slightly underestimating the Western world...

 

[Parra Power]

Every where is darkness; it penetrates
the yellow haze - a sharp razor
burrowing through flesh in search for
the red amber
I bleed
My soul runs dry
There is nothing anymore
Just blankness

 

[Trailblazer]

That is very dark Parra Power, I like but I prefer comedic and fun poems.

Sorry leungtl didnt mean to upset but people who fall for this scams are not as smart as you probably

 

[Tajike]

Thank you for kind words

And Tajike we in Nigeria dont scam, Scams all say Nigeria cos it only Africa country you have heard of. We Nigerians are tricksters not scammers

Was just kidding, Trail. Hope you don't take it personal

Facy is that every single scammer I've baited untill now was Nigerian. Plus the fact that 419 is a Nigerian law.

As I fellow poet I must say I kind of like your work though I'm more a fan of the deeper work

 

[Jaboldinho]

Every where is darkness; it penetrates
the yellow haze - a sharp razor
burrowing through flesh in search for
the red amber
I bleed
My soul runs dry
There is nothing anymore
Just blankness

OK, you MUST be emo.

 

[Trailblazer]

Hello friend it's me again, Miles Oganetuma the poet. I try something more dark and deeper like the work of my hero Benjamin Zepherlli - I hope you enjoy

The plains burn thru you like fire
but still you must walk
Walk on the plains til your feet are raw
Though why you never know

Oh Lord why do I walk like this, why do I walk the plains?
The summer is comin, the guitar man is strummin, but still I walk
Walk til my feet is burned

by

Miles Oganetuma

I hope you enjoy it, it's about how I walk the plains

Tomorrow I share with you more poems

 

[Tom]

Someone give me a subject to write a poem on.

 

[Ubik Valis]

Someone give me a subject to write a poem on.

Young girls?

 

[Tom]

Give me ten minutes

 

[Tom]

Tell me your name

I look,
She feels.
I listen,
She feels.
I touch,
She feels.
I feel,
She feels it. She feels it.

I look at her beautiful face.
She feels.
I listen to her mesmerizing voice.
She feels.
I touch her majestiaclly soft hands.
She feels.
I feel her touch on mine.
She feels it too.

I look at her beautiful face projected on the screen.
She feels.
I listen to her mezmerizing voice speaking to me through speakers of old.
She feels.
I touch her majestically soft hands in my thoughts, my dreams.
She feels.
I feel her touch on mine, on the brain, the heart, the soul.
She doesn't feel it.

For she is but an image.
For she is just a video.
For she is just a spectre.

"Valentina" she answers.
I feel it, I feel it.