Welcome to theOmen's Blog

Down and Out Who cares enough to notice the penniless? Who cares how they became all so ripen? Griping you hard to their desperate chest, Having no choice, such icy grips they have, Limping and crawling from spot to spot . Flames my chest to see such doleful pleas, Smokes my heart to hear them cry out loud, ‘‘Oh how will I succeed, Oh how do I live?” “I crave you with every breath I got in me” Sees us as barons and empresses over them all. Old and weary, young and weak are some, On the roadside beneath bridges for warmth, Looking for love at all angles they can find, Without buddies, without family without us, No one knows no one cares no one sees. Lay undernourished by the gutters of streets, Lay on the side walk miseraly resting bones, Clutching hooves passing by near and far all day, Gets hit rushing to cross to beg yet more woes, Feed on scrap and wear tatters of the ruined. They have nothing that matters to the rich, Pleased with whatever they re

Midnight Whispers   They say I make up too many things like the atoms But this much is true, I care enough to buy you a phantom Because the future is bright, it is lit by a lantern Yeah, am on earth but my mindset is from Saturn So I say, hold hate against none Let your heart be pure white like the cloth of a nun Because they say, the rougher the seas, the better the sailor Well I say, the more beautiful the seam, the greater the tailor Still they tell me, the stronger the tree, the juicer the fruit And still I say, the softer the berry, the sweeter the juice Middle of the night, and I feel a strain on my windpipe and speech So I arise like the sun from the east and mysteriously, I speak Yeah, that kind of thing Midnight whispers It goes on and on and on, something like forever But tell me now, when are you coming home, is it December? Because if I have to, I will wait for you on the Nigerian train, and please don't shout hallelujah! It is hard to believe but

Long Poem For Peace (PT4) I am awake I know you don't like me , you don't like this get up and leave you will find I will follow you right into your dreams you will no longer hide and wash your hands in innocence our cause, our reasons, our way of life its always the same side its your side its just a finger on the trigger quick snap dead explanation and a few civilians killed by mistake I'll be a mountain of bloody legs blown off by land mines resurrected arms and hands, shattered severed heads raining down I have the strength of all the men killed the innocence of the children the raging sorrow of the mothers the sadness of the fathers when they realize that it is their own sad art that paints this picture its the cold kiss of death I will kiss you this morning in the big ditch in the field you will stand beside in the cold dawn its your own child's eyes you see looking up at you its a crack, a thud the kiss moves down the line you

The Scene  her brush strokes against a white canvas- tips melting into tributaries and dams she dabbles into gardens and meadows her pen hooks into fresh fruit- breaking open infested plums birds in v-formation flap their wings over veiled mountains- as she labors over a lemon sunset a long shadow creeps out underneath her easel and gently taps her on the back she glances up, sees nothing but an apparition of a humid aridity in a forgotten globe the wind skips over the lake, throwing her hair into porcupine quills. she reaches for them, quiets down their raucous cries with a phoenix pin. as the darkness melts and clings to her a figure moves just beyond her eyes- she reaches out and her fingers caress the mist- the sweet scent of lilacs dance on her painting; soon she will see a forgotten promise come into fruition.                                                                                                                                 Elik