Phillips Tayo 1 year ago

@Feeleeps 3 min read Write a comment #poem-poetry

I Can See Now!

A poetical satire of my sanity mind reflection of my the latest trending political happenstances ahead of the next general elections.

I can see,
Now not never,
Not like shaggy drunk,
Of myself awhile ago,
I see clearly,
Nay the enmity,
Of mine soul, mind,
Against Palmwine spiritual.

The tapper will climb,
The wine gourd will come down,
The whole suckers will gather,
Of their shouts, eerie wails
Of the loud 👄mouths,
Of futile promises, swearing,
Of floundering acts ink by lips,
As if bravery was kindred in their lofts,
I am alone, resting against wall.

Don't mind a drunk,
Who can see clearly now
Earlier than the parrot,
Whom will have whisper,
Yet, I will say mine NOW!

Isn't true that a new king,
Is nearer to the throne,
Two glad minds are up,
Dancing hawking their bells,
Footsteps plenty behind,
From house to house.

I can see clearly NOW!
That the Palace Gong,
Won't Echo if hands won't strike,
Akin to yawn of a man's sleep,
When sleep overcomes flesh,
A man will snore away,

A sleeping man,
Lost the ace of the pack,
Laid in the acre of Land.
Wake or Death,
Time won't bark,
Time will just tell,
Harmless as it shouldn't be,
In the finality check choice.

What echo is not of the Gong,
The hands dictate its finality,
To be delightful or melancholy,
Since the Gong has no 👀 EYES,
Only the prevailing ECHOES!

I can see clearly NOW!
The masquerade isn't a spirit flair,
Even if it moves niggardly,
People are nearby for shade,
So that it won't derail,
A human carries the mural clothes,
If a voice speaks beneath,
Not of your creator nor angels,
But a MAN of a kindred,
Whom we can't meet thereafter,
Since we are of the EARTHEN,
Nobody shouldn't be CAJOLED!

I can see clearly Now!
When people call a name,
For praises or retribution,
Of the Chief drummer,
Flanked by his retinue,
Singing feats to high heavens
The spirit is smooth will.

Let the curves bend,
Be wary of their talks,
Maybe the sunlights dim,
On them midway their cruise,
Of the good jolly days,
Of the eat, wine revelry,
Mouths will change tastes,
Twist, twinged stretch,
Of sour...sweet flavor.

Torn apart tumbling,
Since the journey to greatness,
Shoulders must shoulders stand,
Not to shudder nor shiver,
To touch or drop off,
Seeing clearly how greatness,
Is like in reality, not dreaming.