Summer was here, the day of the snailing school boy
On the shoulder with smelling poles and GPS tool box
In a slow space, he jet passed near the baseless summit
As if herd of cows, he hoofed up the heel sarturating
Four great strengths but with one escorter’s lace
The tour guider of that day afternoon race
While the wind swiftly spoke in all angles
The grey day leading on a silent blades rangles
He was the talk of the town heading up like a leader band
So at once he noded at the pull of the land
He crossed the river empty between ontop next was the one
The great searchers of national TRIG pillar line
Where the wanted to seall their GPS receiving station
That’s the machine accepted the river siltation
But that hill, he gave much respect and knocked upon loops
Because his air breath lapsed, and lapsed of whoosp
He fell down just close the pillar door way
And he saw the entire horse race passing by in prairie bay
To the west the sun glared red near the district council
And to the east stood a blue cloth pencil
In the middle was an ever green eye angel
Wrapped with his best cry of breath tam-tam tassel
He slept a few minutes and nocked off again
He rose from the mighty of his stomack grain
And received a final call while on the pillow case
The pillar they remained twice darkened meal verse
That day he grabbed so hard finger nailed
On the summit they started the journey on rail
After dismantling the radio station basement
That masterpiece of that day play movement
That was a darken sky, the school boy went down
And dropped down non reversable mail of dawn
A picture can be made from the words that appeal to the senses. These senses are of touch, hearing, taste, sight and smell. Using one or more of these you can see,taste and even touch while you read or hear the poem being read. Here is an example: Then ablack eye is seen at hand, with protruded lens, in such abowl tingle, that resembles afused seed inside the womb. Look at these words: black, protruded, fused, bowl. What are they telling you? This is the way how word pictures are formed from words that appeal to senses.
The flovour of mount Mulanje grins
In the thick of low clouds it grips
The palace of peace wrapped in sighing love
While species of birds, fly in amazing gaze
And up the thickest sleeps the king of the game park
As the spirits welcome new comers at such traditional table
That table of flovoured soup
That sinks in the touring level
The mother’s love that hisses
The great ancestral home
There, sapitwa wears on a frozen dome
and comes out like a cursed torso
that leads height of the time
above no body’s reach
Here ministries of the land
hide and settle
As it provides unit scores of running noses
The spirit drink and dance
Adorned in odd shaddows of humanity
Mountain of hope to run ancestory life
In the midst of our political rife
for we are no more ignorant of your kingdom
That elevation of hope,
Poets are really hard to find because they weave words like spiders. They can use a verb or a noun that you often know and build a vivid picture in your mind and take you to another level of music that has never been played in your individual self.
Have alook at this poem
Oh, you are so big and wide
O, how rocky and murky you are!
You are so young and long
Oh, you are so devil and vile
O! How dare you smile at me like that?
Oh, you are so little and rustle
Oh, how wrinkled and wicked you are!
You are so sticky and slippy
are you old and oily?
Like, o bendy and clipped road.
What makes the poem music? Is there any picture you saw while you were reading it? Re-read again. What do you see and hear?
Look at these words
-big and wide
-rocky and murky
-devil and vile
what are they trying to mean in this poem? Look for words that describe the road. Hopefully you have created the picture of how the road might look like, music being heard on the other side. That’s how poets do. They usually talk about things in nature as if they were human.
I would like to extend my desire of writing poems to you readers. However this blog type is meant to equip you so that you understand what poetry is all about. Poetry is all over in our lives. What is needed is to appreciate the art of a poet. Happy reading!