13th November 2010
13th November 2010,
The first time he left his parents to sleep with his grandparents;
But with the love of his muse to praise the world!
Because his parent had an appointment to fulfil somewhere.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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It Is Time For Africa
It is time for Africa to show to the world what we are made of,
And throughg this World Cup 2010 with our muse!
For the world will see what we are made of and,
Of our various cultures to muse up with the games.
With dancing and music to welcome you all like the butterfies,
Becasue we are made up of many colours!
We will tell the world who we are with this 2010 World Cup,
So you are all invited to South Africa;
Of nature, culture, colours, languages and the beauty of South Africa!
For the ball will roll and legs will play,
And we will share the beauty of all the games with joy!
Because the hospitality of Africa brings you closer to our heritage;
And through one love, peace and unity to muse up with you all!
Come one come all,
For it is time for Africa to show to the world what we are made of;
And this World Cup 2010 will praise the muse of colours and beauty.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Sunday The 13th Of November
A rum for a ram and a sheep fopr a ship,
Sunday the 13th of November to remember!
Like the male lambs of the first year when,
The blood started to flow.
One young bull and one male lamb,
One big ram and one male goat,
But one is destroyed out of the twins expected;
It come out as blood on Sunday the 13th of November.
Of a spanteneous reaction,
And this blood flow is the evidence;
But our faith will always lead us on,
Like life in the wilderness of Sinai.
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like the old blood in a clay pot;
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like the synchroneous act of sadness;
There we lost our appetite.
What is sweet is now soar,
What is joyful is now sadness,
Three days later with an accident;
Like the silent journey on one's mystries.
Sunday the 13th of November,
Like two loaves of bread baked with a romance;
But the silver trumpets should be sounded now!
For the blood flow had taken one of the twins away.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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11.11.11
Today is the 11th of November 2011!
And, you were born at 11: 11 A.M.27 years ago! !
However, the kiss of your lips with my muse was like,
The sweet muse of love and care in the land of beauty!
For, you are all that i need.
At 11: 11 P.M. i found your nakedness to the world so sweet!
And like the words of love to satisfy my muse in the land of beautiful roses;
But, i have a lot to learn from you as well,
Because, you are 27 years old today and,
You are a virgin! !
You were born 27 years ago but,
The sweet love of your muse came and touched my heart!
And, you will always remember my kiss;
For, this love is all about you and i! !
And like words of peace in the land of unity,
For, i am always ready fro your love.
11.11.11!
And like the date reserved for many Germans to marry;
But all over the world are the works and words of love to move us on,
For, you are like the words so sweet to touch my lips!
And i will always remember you because, you were born on this day.
You came into this world 27 years ago in the land of survival! !
Naked to the world to respect your muse;
But, the joy of your birth had brought peace to your culture,
For, you have really made a mark to respect my muse.
You were born on the 11th of November 1984,
And today, you are 27 years olf to respect the muse of love;
But your first kiss came along like the works of peace,
Because, you waited for it for a very long time! !
And today, you are ready for marriage;
But, try to keep your virginity for the man of your heart.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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The Circle
From parent and child
to friend to child to parent.
I've grown and reflecting back.
The circle is clear to me.
As a child looking up to them.
Then eye to eye
with the coming of age.
Still I looked up to them.
Many the role my parents played
guiding my course through life.
Their status with me
changing as older I grew.
Entering the world of adults
leaving adolescence behind.
Friends confidants
and equals they became.
When times my needs demanded
support direction advice.
Always they were there.
On my parents I could rely.
Taking my place as a parent.
Their wisdom a well I drew from.
Their strength
became a staff I leaned on.
One day to me
it was suddenly clear.
My path through life
followed the footprints they left.
When came the time
in their autumn years.
For safe haven they looked to me.
Their obligations I realized fulfilled.
It was for me now the time
to carry that load
they had gladly borne.
The circle had come full turn.
poem by Kurt Hearth

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11th November 2010
11th November 2010,
You are 26 years and you cannot miss my love;
Because you are Sarah and i want your love,
And like the muse of your love in the land of the living.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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25th.05.2010
The intelligence of the boy was noted in the class,
And of the muse of love to invite us for a talk;
For his teacher had already seen his wonders,
And Mareen and Steffi could not believe their own eyes.
It was 25th.05.2010,
And the appointment was at 11: 30 a.m.!
But these pleasant words were like the comb of the honey,
And they recomended to us for a special school for gifted children for him.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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The Spirit Of St. Louis IV
In my consortium,
In my realm,
Born on Friday the 13th;
But i broke my right hand in primary three,
And today i am a left handed.
Thanks to my teacher who taught me to switch to the other hand,
And like the freat men and women in the land of plenty!
For my gifted talent had made me who i am today,
And like great men and women who were left handed.
A typical example if 'Albert Einstein' who brought about the Energy Theory,
And the world had come along with it!
Because, E=mc².
Bill Gate of the Microsoft fame is a left-handed,
President Obama of the U.S.A. is a left-handed,
Like the Day of the Left-Handed celebrated on the 13th of August;
So the dedication of this poem is for the left-handed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Remember the 13th
Our hearts were beating faster,
Yet the air getting more hotter,
I thought I wanted water,
Yet it was not the matter,
The day was worth while,
Remember the 13th
We were walking up and down,
The birds of the air witnessing,
The melodies they gave,
The swift movements they made,
I can look back at the moments,
I remember you,
I remember us,
I remember the 13th
I can see the pictures,
The cars passing by,
Your lips opening wider,
Telling me you love me,
Remember your actions,
Remember my reactions,
Remember the 13th
Forget the 10th,
That day we had lunch together,
Forget the 11th,
That day we had a long walk,
Forget the 12th,
That day was full of fun,
Remember the 13th,
That day we fell in love,
Remember June, it was cold,
Remember the 13th,
It was warm for us
poem by Sir Gaylord Munemo

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Children rarely want to know who their parents were before they were parents, and when age finally stirs their curiosity, there is no parent left to tell them.
quote by Russell Baker

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What My Dreams in Life
When I was a child I'd a tough life.
I dreamed of becoming a doctor.
I dreamed of becoming a lawyer
But I ended up of being a nurse.
At an early age,
My parents were away from me
And only grandparents were there for me.
But then I understood it was for our future.
Though I'd encountered troubles with my playmates,
I was never a prodigal son to my parents.
I was just spoiled by my grandparents
And I don't blame them for loving me, of course.
When I was a high school student,
My parents trained me to be independent
That's why they sent me to the Seminary
To become a God-fearing person today.
When I went to college for study,
I took B.S in Nursing Degree
And all my teachers were proud of me
Especially on my personality.
Now that I'm a Registered Nurse in America,
Philippines, Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia,
Part of me is still missing...
I dream of a peaceful place to live
where my wife can stay with me.
I dream of a better world
Where my children can grow old.
Until all these dreams never come true,
My life is still an empty bottle.
poem by Alon Calinao Dy

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Wholeheartedly
Wholeheartedly, old, yowl, drew, tree, three, hate, lad;
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh;
That it may be well with you,
And that, you may live long on this earth.
Wholeheartedly, whole, hole, woe, where, he, rate, lead;
With instructions in the land of your muse,
But try to be very obedient to all!
Wholeheartedly, heart, dear, read, red, ear, year, ware;
With peace and love in the land of joy!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, are, weed, wed, late, date, wear, doll;
With songs of love and works of peace,
But, try to be very obedient to all in this life.
Wholeheartedly, hold, told, wheat, war, raw, draw;
And like the muse of your love in the land of the living!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, hoe, heat, het, her, had, head, well, led;
And like your works as seen by all!
But, try to be very obedient to the people around you.
Wholeheartedly, lay, ray, tray, day, at, deer, reed, tear;
And like the joy of your muse with others at home! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Wholeheartedly, heed, heard, world, word, rod, era, rode;
With the muse of the world and the works of your love,
But try to obey others in the land of your muse.
Wholeheartedly, toe, doe, do, to, hare, here, thread, art, thee;
Learn from the right people always to motivate yourselves!
For life is full of laws which are needed by all of us.
Wholeheartedly, yard, hew, threw, low, rat, yell, tar, how?
And like the sweet songs of the lovely birds up high! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Instruction,
Entreaty,
Boldly,
Obligation;
Children, obey your parents!
And, honour your father and your mother.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Consiquences
I'm living without you
you left me here in this world alone
I was pregnet with your son
who I'm now left raising on my own
Days turn in to weeks
turn in to months
turn in to years
time passes so slowly
I've cryed so many tears
Our son is growing so quickly
he's still obliviouse to the truth
the fucked up reality that he may loose his mother too
I'm all he has in his mind
he has counted on me from day one
why did you leave us
how could we do this to our son
Sure he doesnt know now of who and what we realy are
I can only hope the best for him
and hope I've done good so far
Soon the day will come when his simple world gets ripped apart
the only parent he has will be locked away
I'll have to leave my son with a broken heart
Now he has nothing
no dad is here to take care of and love him
hes left with familiar strangers
wondering why mommy doesnt love him
He wont understand why I left or why he's now alone
he wont understand why he can only hear mommys voice from a collect inmate phone
My biggest fear is coming home to him and not being rememberd
thats something I'll have to deal with because of the thoughtless act I commited in November.
poem by Victoria Ong

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November's Chill
For 'twas in November's month
the change of guards took place
the month my heart fell to sleep
For 'twas in that darken time
our Love slowly faded away
and in passing, our words were few.
And I am left lonely an' oh so cold.....
For 'twas in November's month
we became two ships in passing
entering port's harbour at separate times
For 'twas in that lonely state
two hearts screamed of Love
and the sheets never warmed again.
And I am left lonely an' oh so cold.......
For 'twas in Novembers month
we tasted Love once again
and like the first time I know home
For 'twas in that lonely bed
separately we lay our heads
yet in dream, you are near as am I
No longer left lonely an' oh so cold...........
poem by Geoff Warden

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Love Brewed
The phase of my love to you and,
The phase two of my act towards your muse;
Obsessed by my wealth and the elegance of your joy!
But, it is natural to express the feelings of jealousy at times.
Natural breasts,
To look attractive ans to smell sweet;
The natural act,
To look lovely and to look smart;
But, why should someone hurt you my love?
For, i will cry in my grave if i fail to fulfil my dreams for you.
Love brewed in the African pot,
With youthful acts to overcome the ageing nature of things;
And like the muse of poverty as seen around us,
But, i will cry in my grave if i fail to fulfil my dreams for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Flotsam
After the First World War
there floated a sea of stateless people
who drifted from border to border,
flotsam of the war, each reaching out
to find somewhere to call their own;
displaced by everyone as they tried
to adopt a homeland,
a place they could call their own.
Etched on each face was the agony
they felt being turned away
everywhere they went.
This flotsam of war.
10 November 2010
Author’s Note:
It is hard to believe that millions of people were displaced and wandered the borders of Europe for years after the First World War. However, it is true and history does record it.
DVH
November 2010
poem by David Harris

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My Brother Bill
This is the sad true story about my brother Bill
who was four years older than me.
He was born and then tossed aside by his mother
who left him to his father’s parents to raise,
then promptly disappeared out of his life forever.
My grandparents brought him up
hoping his father would take care of him
when he returned from the war.
His father also my dad returned from the war
married with another son and didn’t want to know.
They gave him a nickname in private
so no one else would know.
In private, they always called him Dopey.
My sister and I were told
our grandparents had adopted him
and he was nothing to do with us.
When my dad’s parents died in 1958 and 59
plans were made to come back to England
where my mother’s parents were still alive
and leave Bill far behind.
Then as his mother had done eighteen years before
his father abandoned him as well.
For a while, he had to live on the streets
taking handout from where ever he could.
He was arrested for vagrancy and sent to jail.
Getting out he got himself a job and began to build a life.
He got married and started a family,
until one night he came home
and found his wife in bed with another man,
and a divorce followed and he was alone again.
Then after 25 years, his job vanished
and he had to find another.
One day in 2000, he got a telephone call
and did not know whether to believe it or not.
It was a call he never thought he would ever get,
a call from his younger brother - me.
As we talked on the phone, some truths came to pass
his brother and his sister did not know about him.
They were told he had been adopted
and were nothing to do with them.
However, I had found the truth,
which incensed my mother enough to disown me.
We met one another for the first time
after forty-two years in 2001 and again in 2002.
In 2003, this sad story ends,
in the March of that year
Bill succumbed to a heart attack.
His final words were a testament to his life.
No one loved me enough to care.
The sad truth is someone did
and that someone was me.
We never had enough time together,
circumstances kept us apart,
but he was my brother
and will remain in my heart.
2 November 2009
Authors Note:
The facts are as Bill told them to me. A sad refrain to a wonderful guy who was tainted by my parents as being bad and no good. If the truth were known he was probably better than the both of them. He was a guy who would give you the shirt of his back if you needed it. My brother Bill, may he now rest in peace.
DVH - 2009
poem by David Harris

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Who Is There Left to Remember?
WHO IS THERE LEFT TO REMEMBER?
Who is there left to remember?
My parents, my brother, all my aunts and uncles gone-
My sister in another world.
In our imagination and prayers
The sky opens and souls enter
Singing praise
Our loved ones are saved forever.
But on the ground
Where we are now
All that they have been-
Who is there left to remember
The lives the world we had?
I alone am left to remember
And I alone will never remember enough.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Predictable
Parents or relatives,
Predictable;
But it was also established that you do love me,
And like the love of your muse as exposed to me last night when i paid you a visit!
But, i will always praise you for loving me.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Yagir
Ceramic,
Floor tiles,
To the window level;
With fitted kitchen to satisfy your muse!
But, i am Yagir on the walkway.
An appointment,
With paved driveway;
An appropriate thing,
With manoeuvres!
The act of love,
From the landscaping;
With,12 feet wall! !
And like your love behind-the-scene,
But followinng a tip off to meet your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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13th October
Today i am 47 years old and,
I hope i have done my best on this earth;
But i still respect all those who love me and,
All those who hate me.
To whosoever i have hurt along the line,
I say i am sorry;
And to whosoever i have helped along this line,
Do extend the blessings of love to one another.
Yes, i came into the world on Friday the 13th;
And my mind is always ahead of man,
But many still do not understand who i am.
Please, do you know me very well?
Then it is a blessing to you;
But if you don't know who i am too,
It is also a blessing to you!
For praises should rather go the Creator in heaven.
I have gone through life in many ways since my birth,
But most of them are my very hardships in Africa!
And today i am what i am with my poems to you all.
Let us put the world into a better place than hate,
Let us love one another in peace than hate,
For we still have to learn from one another;
And this world was made for you and i.
13th October,
My very entrance into this world for mankind to know who i am;
But this world of ours is still very complex! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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