*"Echoes in My Mind"*

The things I write, the things I do
The things I see, a different world
Everyday goes by, but I feel like I'm stuck
In a time warp, where reality is rough

I see things that I'm not sure are meant to be
A world of chaos, where humanity's lost its key
People say I'm crazy, and my poems are a cry
For help, for hope, for a glimpse of the sky

But I love the way I am, with all my flaws and fears
I'd rather be a misfit, than a face in the peers
You might think I'm sick, seeing things that aren't there
But it makes me feel alive, like I'm floating on air

In my head, I become invisible, forgetting the pain
Of a world that's often cruel, and drives me insane
But in this invisibility, I find my peaceful nest
A place where I can hide, and let my spirit rest.

I'm an upcoming poet and I hope you all accept me here. Please like comment and share my poems
I will be very grateful for that
Thank you guys so so much 🙏🏻

It is difficultto get the news from poems yet men die miserably every day for lackof what is found there.

You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing, and dance, and write poems, and suffer, and understand, for all that is life.

— Jiddu Krishnamurti

But I was always coming here. I though about one of my favorite Sufi poems, which says that God long ago drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. I was never not coming here. This was never not going to happen.

I think that I shall never seeA poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is pressedAgainst the earth's sweet flowing breast;A tree that looks at God all dayAnd lifts her leafy arms to pray;A tree that may in summer wearA nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;Who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like me,But only God can make a tree.

Each word bears its weight, so you have to read my poems quite slowly.

What Is life without love?
It would be an empty space.

#poeticthought #poetry #poems #creativity

There's two kinds of women--those you write poems about and those you don't.

The Ibibio people have a rich tradition of storytelling through oral literature, including:

- Folktales (e.g., myths, legends, fables)
- Proverbs and sayings
- Riddles and puzzles
- Epic poems and songs
- Historical accounts and genealogies

These stories convey moral lessons, cultural values, and historical events, passing down Ibibio heritage and wisdom from one generation to the next.