© 2015, Chykepryor.
Except as
provided by the Copyright Act
[15
December 2015],
no part of this
publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any
means without the prior written permission of the publisher."

Poison Tree..

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:


I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I water’d it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;

And I sunnèd it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;

And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veil’d the pole:

In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree.

~William Blake,

Dusty Rhythms ,

Bone Chilled i sit atop a precipice,
Staring out to the streets below,
I watch humanity flow below in all
shapes, sizes n kinds,

It's impossible to think they all
have issues of their own that
keep them tossing at night n
gives them nightmares,

I hear this Rhythm gray with dust,
n streaked with cobwebs telling
stories old as time,

Ticking clocks in Humanity's
quest for Survival & Happiness..


~Chykepryor, 2015

Today It Ends,
The Laughter it's a Farce..
The beauty a deception,
Soon I'll be the dust I walk on.


~Chykepryor, 2015

ChykePryor:
Dusty Rhythms ,

Bone Chilled i sit atop a precipice,
Staring out to the streets below,
I watch humanity flow below in all
shapes, sizes n kinds,

It's impossible to think they all
have issues of their own that
keep them tossing at night n
gives them nightmares,

I hear this Rhythm gray with dust,
n streaked with cobwebs telling
stories old as time,

Ticking clocks in Humanity's
quest for Survival & Happiness..


~Chykepryor, 2015

This is awesome; you write good poetry, brother. But, is there a reason you punctuate the way you do? Your style is quite strange.

llaykorn:


This is awesome; you write good poetry, brother. But, is there a reason you punctuate the way you do? Your style is quite strange.

am around iganmu now bro..a place after iganmu...dnt really know d place sha.

llaykorn:


This is awesome; you write good poetry, brother. But, is there a reason you punctuate the way you do? Your style is quite strange.

Thankyou,

For the comma There's no reason,
Other than a new line i think..

It's also because my opera mini browser muddles up everything n won't put spaces.
Now I'm so used to d double fullstop thingy..

Book Of Counted Hallows..
Chapter One-
Inner Demons


My mind,
It's Cavernous innards
A Temple Scorched black by
misty creatures with smoky
viscera..

It's presence ringing across the
empty halls where Happiness &
Grace once dwelt..
The nights are inky, the days are
hazy,
Even the Sun gives cold
comfort..

I sit like an imp, a victim of the
raging battles within,

A mannequin in the hands of my
formless masters sworn to do
their bidding as long as i am flesh n dust.

~Chykepryor'15

Youth

I want to live my life in my youth..

To find that girl who loves me for who i am,
Whose ringing Laughter resound in the deepest chasms of my heart,

Whose eyes are deep with all the Love she feels for me.
Her hair curtains of brown bliss,
Her Skin ebony as all the soils of Africa,

I love an Erudite girl with big rimmed glasses who's a writer n a lover of books, who sings like a Soprano sorceress..
At night we burn candles for our future,
In Church we'll ignite heaven with A mixture of Tenor & Soprano..
In the day we'll race across fields of white sand n green Earth n watch the Otamiri flow by.
A girl who'll nurse me like my mother n cry when I'm ill..

Then one day,
One good old day, after the fires of our passion have been kindled we'll stare at blissful copies of us sleeping in cots n swear to protect them..

Our love won't wane cos in the end I'll love to die in your arms when all my strength fails..


~Chykepryor'15

Then I found The greatest gifts were not beauty n poise,
not wisdom n health
nor a charming voice neither deep soulful eyes...

In the end..
It would av always been a merciful kind heart brimming with goodness..

Cos in the end it's the best you'll ever have, safe from Time's Ravages.

~Chykepryor'15

Path

Every step i take A Tremor Seeps through crevices erupting in Orange Splashes of golden magma..
I fall, I rise, I laugh, I weep, I love, I hate, I strive never to yield to mediocre..

My thoughts resonating through Ornate Polished Marble Halls of my mind..

I hope Atlast that one day whilst Astrolling Memoirs Cul-de-sac, atop hills of morrow,
With billowing Robes & a glowing gem of forget-me-nots forged in blue Lava,

I will say It was worth It.
All my Struggles.

Chykepryor'15

My Spirit courses in Swathes Of Colour, Let my vines bloom, There's nothing more to do, I miss my confidant.
~Chykepryor

Ambition
I had Ambition, by which sin The angels fell; I climbed and, step by step, O Lord, Ascended into Hell. Returning now to peace and quiet, And made more wise, Let my descent and fall, O Lord, Be into Paradise.
-WH Davies

Enmortality

I am not young,
I've seen 300 revolutions..
A hundred comets, wished a thousand
wishes over a thousand shooting stars..
I have survived the scourge of the black
death, the purge of London's Fires..
I have seen the sky glow with atomic
energy, felt the ground tremble before my
feet..
I have watched civilizations rise n fall..
Now i get to watch man travel at mach 5, n
soon I'll be among the first colonists
birthing new Humanity across the galaxies
at almost the speed of light..
I am living proof of Humanity's resilience...
How then can U call me young when my
eyes burn blue over a thousand years.


~Chykepryor'15

When i need you,
You are never never there..

A bouquet of Forget-me-nots..
Sprinkled pebbles from shallow brooks..
Wisted roots from weeping willows..

Chykepryor'15

You are Urs Truly,
'coz when all light has faded into the void darkness of Oblivion,
You would always be there for U..

There Is none like you..

Chykepryor'15

True Love can be defined as that Illusory feeling in our world of Illusions, that Is not Fear, not Insecurity..
Where U are in Parallel Universes but Love has forged a fiery portal n bonded 2 hearts together as one in a blazing Fabric..

One who sees beyond looks, embraces ur Imperfection, & loves ur Soul for who you are..


~Chykepryor'15

I didn't tell him i would be leaving,
I didn't want to say goodbye, but i tended the chores.. I fed the dogs and watered the plants, i ordered for more food..
I even chose the colours myself, i bought the box n dorned its inside with soft wool..

Janet would notice my absence first, not because it would b glaringly obvious to dogs but because a connection we share would be snapped..

When he returns from work, he won't find me hunched over a desk studying vast volumes of literary works for my exams, he will assume i took a solitary walk down Calamwolde Cul-de-sac to ease my tensions but how right could he be ?..
Ever since i flipped the switch i av become a cold mass of metal, but yet he won't give up..

It's 12 n he jerks to reality on d sofa he dozed off, Janet is barking from afar, i hear them as he thuds up the stairs, They found me curled up in a fetal position, i hear him gasp n start sobbing, I'm heartbroken but i can't help, this tunnel feels so dark n d light beyond is so cold n unfriendly, i want to go back...

I try to move but i can only give spasmic jerks, bundled in the stretcher, every sleeping pill i took in d bottle raging n erupting clouds of black death, dulling my senses..
I slip into Oblivion..

A bright Light..
This must be heaven..
I stare up into those eyes looking down on me with fear, relief n love..

I say this is a good Imitation of Heaven.


~Chykepryor'15

WordSmiths..


There are all kinds of smiths,
But one stands Out..

The Art of Wordsmithing..
A person who wordsmiths is a wordsmith..
We see stories in every action, n anything..
Our minds are vast canvases n we paint with brushes of light.
We are called writers, poets, stiff, nerd, geeks, shrinks, bores etc..
But i prefer been addressed as A Wordsmith..

Wordsmithing is no mean Feat, n it's art can only be appreciated by we or those blessed with a certain foresight to appreciate intricately woven strings of words swirling around ornate frames of wild free roaming thoughts strung together, beaten, melted n forged to give an amalgamation of Lavender & Gold..

Now let me show u how to smith words..

A wordsmith like every smith has his workplace, his is his mind, he gets to work by setting his coals alive, slivers of stories strung with every thought, word, smell, sound n sight...
He gathers every scrap of thought, melts them n watch them crumble as they burn into fiery glowing semi-liquids,
but this time our creation does not cool it steps out from the cauldron burning white hot, alive n living, it walks away across green meadows, sprawling deserts n vast oceans n beyond into the horizon birthing new galaxies, leaving footprints of Lava in it's wake n a soothing breeze painted with all the colours of the wind..


~Chykepryor'15

I didn't tell him i would be leaving,
I didn't want to say goodbye, but i tended the chores.. I fed the dogs and watered the plants, i ordered for more food..
I even chose the colours myself, i bought the box n dorned its inside with soft wool..

Janet would notice my absence first, not because it would b glaringly obvious to dogs but because a connection we share would be snapped..

When he returns from work, he won't find me hunched over a desk studying vast volumes of literary works for my exams, he will assume i took a solitary walk down Calamwolde Cul-de-sac to ease my tensions but how right could he be ?..
Ever since i flipped the switch i av become a cold mass of metal, but yet he won't give up..

It's 12 n he jerks to reality on d sofa he dozed off on, Janet is barking from afar, i hear them as he thuds up the stairs, They find me curled up in a fetal position, i hear him gasp n start sobbing, I'm heartbroken but i can't help, this tunnel feels so dark n d light beyond is so cold n unfriendly, i want to go back...

I try to move but i can only give spasmic jerks, bundled in the stretcher, every sleeping pill i took in d bottle raging n erupting clouds of black death, dulling my senses..
I slip into Oblivion..

A bright Light..
This must be heaven..
I stare up into those eyes looking down on me with fear, relief n love..

I say this is a good Imitation of Heaven.

~Chykepryor'15