POEM COLLECTIONS

I CAN’T FORGET THESE SCARS IN A HURRY 

I took a look at two lovers,
Taking photographs to keep sweet memories,
Moments that are pretty transient,
I call it a mere passing phase;
That turns Topsy-Turvy with time,
When the wax winds down wasting;
Like they were once under a spell,
The moments of laughter and promises;
Will now be left in the hands of memories,
Once it was cheers,
Now it is tears,
These scars can’t be forgotten,
Can they?
And the least I can do is getting past my pasts.


Lessons of love well learnt,
If you have never been hurt,
Then you can’t tell pain,
Which I have had enough to drench my soul like rain,
Ushering in this unfriendly harmattan season.
I feel these scars could be trimmed,
If people could be schooled;
From the experience of many that have this road taken,
Maybe, only then would these scars;
Be reduced,
Be stopped,
Like a baneful traffic holding varieties of cars.
I await a time when people will understand these transient sparks that end with scars,
And patience to see the fire and not hold on to mere spark.


It takes more strength to kill these hurts,
Even though the healing comes falling like stars,
I fell back to the canyon of pain’s strings playing like jazz,
When I fight vehemently to forget my scars,
These scars kicked back and swirl all round my soul,
Like I drank wine from several jars,
I fought to forgive my transgressors,
Yet, these memories still fresh on my mind,
Like a beautiful cloth put to pieces by a child with a pair of scissors,
For these scars “I can’t forget in a hurry.“

ACTION IN THE MIRROR

In thoughts alone imaginations blown,

Reality swirls up the road shown,

Here’s Jack,

There’slack,

There’s lack,

Here’s Jack,

Inseparable this reality.

The exegesis not far fetched,

Jack has lack,

Enormous;

Colossal;

He calls for friends,

He reaches for his family,

No one there to beacon,

None to hold,

He looks out at nowhere for gold,

Jack’s left in the island pretty cold,

His economy is on the edge frustrated,

He’s Financially prostrate,

His life not celebrated,

Smile line on his face to frown smile,

A thing not appreciated;

All round Jack is laughter,

His only hope is action in the mirror.

©P. McCoy

{BIG-DREAMS INC.}

KISSING THIS SOULFUL DUST SO SWEET 

I saw this beautiful pack of sand,

Stretch my hands to reach for it, 

Cause for long dreamed I to have a hold onto it. 

Yearning, 

Daydreaming, 

But with all these hallucinations; 

Kissing this soulful dust so sweet. 

In my soul, this  Exodus voyage, 

On the road to fetch it, 

Not enough Strength in my storage, 

I found my self somnambulating,

My mind kept running backwards;

To reach for this soulful dust,

I can feel my heart to the garage of damage, 

Kissing this soulful dust so sweet. 

Now comes the need for Jewish rest, 

My body calls for a nest, 

I strayed to breakthrough unknowingly,

Alas! My once heavy soul less mind to rest,

Cause I found it,

And I can testify it’s beautiful a pack of dust, 

Kissing this soulful dust so sweet. 

©P. McCoy

{BIG-DREAMS INC.}