THE BLEEDING PEN ANTHOLOGY 50
The proceed of man is the make of the mind,
taking turns to till the tale that twine.
OBIAGILI, the sound of a merry heart,
With languid fist in marshland.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herds wind slowly o’er the lea,
The plowman homeward plods his weary way
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
What a lazy mind?
A mind full of laziness.
It’s ne’er lazy in consumption.
It’s ne’er lazy in merriment.
JULI ADA LOVE
Unwilling to take action, to make an effort.
Disinclined to exertion.
A lazy mind; an idle head.
A procrastinated destroyed soul.
No thought of work for once,
His heart empty and dry,
Poverty is not too far to your door step,
Better resume back to work.
I tried to write with my pen
But words were too stubborn
And my mind was as lazy as a muddled stream
Which can hardly flow.
Oh lazy are we,
Like the treacherous Tortoise,
Fast to food,
But slow to work.
Work had to be done
But he was too energetic to move,
He was too busy to be productive
And too hardworking to be called a kaynard.
Hands are so short to work,
while others are having
on their table.
Olu the mind that think of success, but
too weak in spirit and body to work.
All he want is riches,
Never talk to him about hustling.
You marvel at other’s achievements.
And wish you had all they have.
Their cars and houses catches your eyes.
But you are not ready to toss a die.
The hopeful heartless man
That aim higher for tomorrow
But have dreamless dream
About future goals.
A lazy mind,
Lives by feeding on the carcasses of lies
He wantons in emptiness,
By wearing the righteous garment of poverty.
Unruly like a sun
blowing to and fro
behaving like a don
begging before my toe
Can I speak to you
Blind ‘nd lazy mind?
I only come with satire
A good friend of mine.
Kukuruku! Cries the chirping cuckoo,
With wings painted in whitish ecru.
Who dances to the tune of the eardrums of barbaric mankind,
To hearken to the voice of nature.
He brags and sweats
He lies and denies
with eyes to eyes make-up
I shall do tomorrow that which
should be done today
That is the song found on the
running tap-like lips
It is a normalized natural nations
An idle hand is the devil’s workshop,
Time waits for no man “Tick-tock” it sounds,
Only a foolish man will sleep all day,
Master of time, is a master of all.
JULI ADA LOVE
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