Poems

Poem: A Half-Hearted Account of The Definition of Life By Theodora Oyani

Poem: A Half-Hearted Account of The Definition of Life By Theodora Oyani
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Life. A rushing, painful madness. Tinged with stories and memories, like splotches of yellow on green. Of hastened childhoods, vividly recalled. Quietly remembered. The ever callous nature of the human, eternally prevailing. Death is inevitable. All the cars parked beautifully in a majestic surround. Or the body pieces that splatter themselves . . . torn […]

Poem: A Thousand Imaginations For My Babies – Theodora Oyani

Poem: A Thousand Imaginations For My Babies – Theodora Oyani
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For My Babies I want Life. I want them Beautifully Grown. I want them Intellectual.   I want them Joyous, Content, Grateful. I want them Thoughtful, Deep, Dedicated, Unrestrained.   For My Babies I want Inspiration, Journeys, I want them Lovely, Lovable, Literal.   I want them Excellent, Exquisite, Evergreen. For them I want Peace. […]

Poem: I and You – By Theodora Oyani

Poem: I and You – By Theodora Oyani
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Funny, How I never saw your Smile. Pretty, the Divinity of life when I Remember your Eyes.   That chuckle I pick out in the air when you’re not there. The first time we Kissed, The melting, The heat.   Those wishful weekends, whole days Laughing at your face, your pathetic jokes making its way […]

Poem: The Woman’s Language – By Theodora Oyani

Poem: The Woman’s Language – By Theodora Oyani
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The Woman’s language is Harsh. Critical. Unclearly Straightforward. Amusingly Amazing and Sufficiently Bitter.   The Woman’s language is a dog – Loyally Unchanging. It’s a cat – Swiftly Irreplaceable. The Woman’s language is Sweet to the ear and Bitter to the tongue.   The Woman’s language is Together. Unified. Divine. Painfully Subtle. Unnecessarily Delirious. Bizarrely […]

Poem: Pain Plus Pain Equals Bliss, By Theodora Oyani

Poem: Pain Plus Pain Equals Bliss, By Theodora Oyani
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So I married Layo, White gloves and waving. Stood off. A mad night breaking bonds. Bursting forth; surname  change and bedroom tales. First year, second year, third year bump. Ninth month, plump. Tearing pain, warm wetness, my agony. Vain. Another Layo, beautiful  baby. Got me arrays, bliss – so pain plus pain equals bliss. Fourth […]

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