2016: EB POETS EXERCISE IV

Roses are Red.

Sam Ojiyi

Blue skies fell and the heavens pissed in the wind

While thirsty souls with wide open mouths drank from the rain

Heartless drainage where vengeful oceans of emotion flood

Cliches tire, yes Roses are red; but so also is blood

Leonell Echa

Was it poets who purchased that phrase?

From a shop defaced, bruised, beaten and dead?

Driven in a pickup…trucked out of place?

Or did bakers so cream the butter to just blow the bread?

Hypermind

In the violence of desperate relays, godspeed felt so delayed.

Heard every click and drop of bullet to the sand.

In between first victory, target time and finish line

It all blew up and defeat was accepted, all red had left were roses

Desmond Adeoye-Adetoba

Drape in red and exuding in fragrance

The eyes with delight and nostrils enchanted

Red, the color of life, flowing with animated rush

At the sight of Roses sprouting flesh and curves.

Rudolph Ruddapoet

Rouge, a pain striking through the church hills

Knocking the virgin pews of my kneeling heart

Rose is a wood

Plucked from the vein of bleeding wall

Umar Jimeta

They came to the alter for the slaughter, but not every blood was red

They all went for the funeral, but not everyone was dead

It was time to plow but they all sort to rip where they didn’t sow

Little did they know that life has a price so that you must pay what you owe

Prudence Obadan-Enujiofor

Time stalled as droplets of fear flooded my ailing heart

The portal of eternity beckoned with glamour

With ambiance so right en conscious so spent

All my eyes ate was roses in the boudoir of red death

Anre John

Few knew not all Roses are Red

Prickly thorns on this seductress’ bed

She came in spring, warts and all

Withering at twilight, falling at fall