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eli fiati
1st October 2011, 03:35 PM
a place where
old men run
the proverbial highway
stories of their hay days.
a lad sings 'yes sir!'
and the cap-in-hand greetings
Yet sending grand sons
jogging to smoke joints

a place where
gentlemen sew to suit
fitting perfect for admiration
barely out of bentley
---- under soles
is the first welcome.

a place where
imitation of plastic dreams
is made believe.
she's a red lip
and uses a smart phone,phenomenal!
is the song of young daughters
and the gossip for enviable
competition from sisterhood
Yet she sits in stinks
to eat with sticks
noodles called fast food


a place where
the young mechanical engineer
waiting in haste
not to late
to make his mates
hate yet again.
To board the ever-ready rickety
plying wobbly,dustily
Yet engages in verbal
exchange with driver's mate
for leaning on his white steamed pressed.

eli fiati
1st October 2011, 03:48 PM
this is a poem i don't know where to begin but i choose to call it "a place where". for me this poem has no beginning and no end. Because these are things i find around me every now and then. I wrote this down hoping you the reader can add your own voice to it. You might have observed similar issues in your community which is not positive development both environmentally economically etc. I encourage you to continue this poem to say whats on our minds that is affecting help us at home, work, as people, country you name it.

Pope Bitterz D'Alomo
1st October 2011, 06:33 PM
This poem is rich in imagery and tells a lot about our ghanaian society. Thanks for sharing

MegaMeister
3rd October 2011, 04:38 AM
a place where
imitation of plastic dreams
is made believe.
she's a red lip
and uses a smart phone,phenomenal!
is the song of young daughters
and the gossip for enviable
competition from sisterhood
Yet she sits in stinks
to eat with sticks
noodles called fast food

Our plastic world described so vividly. I enjoyed reading it. Well done !

Fashion Yaa
6th October 2011, 05:39 PM
Id like to see a stanza on environmental efx of cutting buildin resorts by the beachside. But clearly there is much to be gained. Same goes for a possible stanza on traffic filled roads. Keep it up Eli.....by the way im nearly done with the suggestion u made on my short story about the Female Bodyguard of Ghadafi ....its always a blessing to read from other writers
a place where
old men run
the proverbial highway
stories of their hay days.
a lad sings 'yes sir!'
and the cap-in-hand greetings
Yet sending grand sons
jogging to smoke joints

a place where
gentlemen sew to suit
fitting perfect for admiration
barely out of bentley
---- under soles
is the first welcome.

a place where
imitation of plastic dreams
is made believe.
she's a red lip
and uses a smart phone,phenomenal!
is the song of young daughters
and the gossip for enviable
competition from sisterhood
Yet she sits in stinks
to eat with sticks
noodles called fast food


a place where
the young mechanical engineer
waiting in haste
not to late
to make his mates
hate yet again.
To board the ever-ready rickety
plying wobbly,dustily
Yet engages in verbal
exchange with driver's mate
for leaning on his white steamed pressed.