My Very own

This page is purely dedicated to my individual work. I hope you will love my work, enjoy.


There’s only one fine tune,
there’s only one like you.

How about money for a life,

how about a kiss in between a fight,

your best dress, that sundress,

your beautiful face, beyond the mirage,

your never tied laces, from the mirage,

your pure face, at dawn, as reflected on the kitchen  faucet,

your splendid gaze at dusk, as seen before the offset.

Thoughts of happiness,  

a preview of a perfect life,

visions, images of a country cabin in the winter,

In my right hand a rainbow bouquet, 

on my chest, your magnificent face.
That in the midst of this cold and mist,

the heat from our hearts would suffice,

that within all this wars and strife, our love would arise.

We are Who We are

 What are we,

if not vile offenders,

violent contenders,

who are we,

if not flawed, passionate in our jealousy,

empowered in our triumph,

and our costly accomplishments.

We are who we are,

not witheld by our anomalies,

declaring boldly, and yet mildly those be mere conjectures,

swirling in the oomph of life,

hugging in the face of strife,

kissing in the devastation of hate,

shaking hands in the utter destruction of disdain,

smiling in the face of loss and the ravishment of hunger.

Embracive unto our sadness,.         clothing it with joy and happiness.

Because we are grand,

we aspire to transcend,

loosing our minds over a little rhyme,

with reason,

we are we who desire,

we who scale,

scalers, risers, conquerors,

behold, as we achieve,

achievers, watch quietly as we dream,

dreamers, listen closely as we preach,

preachers, sit peacefully as we teach, 


For we are the moment,

the time, the holiday, the anointment,

unto others the gift,

the appointment,

the unfathomable assurance,

that all is well,

the timely miracle, misunderstood,

 often misconcieved,

and overly missed,

the unfrozen air in the winter,

the persistent corn in the summer,

the shade in the storm,

the glaze on the mild and lacklustre.

Carl Tayo


                 AS I LAY ROSES

I lay roses from the tip of the door,

gradually to the end of the staircase,

In my hand a rainbow bouquet,

partially filled with French roses,

prayers, and Love poems.

I wait for you darling,

I wait for that bell ring,
I wait for you,

as I did before I got your attention,

I wait for you that I may stroke your hair,

I wait for you, that even as you tire,

I prepare my harp, flute and lyre,
that I may swing you away,                     into the world of your desires.


Because we are all thinking the same,

we are,

 heroes, emergent,

discoverers of a way of thinking,

a manner of thought,

pacifists, oh! but  we conquer,

residents, proclaimers of peace,

Kings and queens in our own nature,

Studious, but we are mellow,

standing out in all our yellow,

expressing love in all its majesty,

using it to engulf all our travesties,

And so we remain rooted,

declaring our flaws no longer our captors,

casting them asunder,
Gazing not just onto the light of the stars,

but rather fully into the glare of the sun,

for in our eyes, are diamonds,

our sight christened by their light,

uncapped unmeasured ,

merely flattered by its shine.
Yes, we are strange,

for we agree with those that call us peculiar,

for we are not ordinary,

we agree with those who have called us ‘not beautiful’,

for we are beyond beauty
Invincible, existing beyond the human scope,

sympathetic to those who refuse to notice us,

for we are destined for greatness.
For indeed, we are heroes, emergent,

explorers, discoverers of a new way.

                    BEAUTIFUL STILL

Because, you are beautiful still,

You are magnificent,

Majestic in your own will,

You are, extraterrestrial,

Amusing, unbeknownst amongst us,

Uncomprehensible, not fulfilled even by this verse,

You are clarity,

You are wonder,

You, are, princess, unfathomable,

An enigma,

Elegant, even beyond the greek alphabet,

alpha, zeta, sigma.
You are, 

fluvial, ever flowing withing my heart,

the queen, hopefully from my dreams,

you are truth, even beyond these common cliches,

you are prime,

you are, my future unveiled.



I walk through the garden,
Slowly wafting the wondrous scents,
As my fingers wander into the depths of their pollen,
I stare at the tulips,
Then I find the orchids, then the dahlia,
Slowly as I melt into their beauty,
I notice  beyond the trees,
A light, as the twigs swing, or so it seems,
Beyond them emanate streams,
Rays of light, of wonder,
I rush towards the trees,
My mind fixated ,
Trying to imagine, what glory might be beholden within,


And there she was,
Her beauty, the work of fairy tales,
She is art,
Flawless, her form, curved of the stars,
She radiates the light of the sun,
She is clothed in splendour,
Engraved is her name, 
Intoxicated by her grace,
I stagger,
I have no further desire.

And so, I pluck her from the rest,
Carefully, that she may not be lacklustre and off form,
I curve a pot of gold,
Fill it with soil I dug from North America,
And I plant her there,
Watching over her, day and night,
I care for her that she may not need,
Guarding her that she may flourish ,
And that her true magnificence may reveal.


by Carl T



For we are diamonds,
Crystals, glistening in the winter,
See through, for we are pure,
Definite, for we endeavour to be perfect,
Beautiful, for even we, wallow in our own splendour,
For we, walked the moon and graced the stars,
As we swam in the floating delight of our mother’s womb,
And now, as I am jolted to and fro,
As I swirl, and turn, into this awkwardly position,
I fear I am about to leave this,
This new-found pleasure
About to digest the gist of a new universe,
The wonder of a trabjous adventure,
That is the future.

That as I love, with ease,
I may be loved,
That as I share in glee,
And revel in utter carelessness,
They may remember to care for me.

By Carl T



And as this songs give us meaning,
As this peace we search for gives us prosperity,
As this love, that we so endeavor to acquire, lasts for eternity,
As this honor that we soldiers endeavor to obtain, outlasts us,
As this climax that we strive to reach draw nearer,
As this magnificence that we desire, even if we do not declare,
Glare onto us,

For though, we seem to be mere beings,
Creations, of the almighty,
Though we swell in the presence of folly,
Though we appear to be no more flesh and bones,
Though for some reason, we seem to be the weakest of the galaxies,
Restrained and withheld by the magnitude of our anomalies,
For fallen have we,
Hurt, bruised,
But we are survivors,
Lovers of the struggle,
For we embrace the scars,
Though we love this metallic cars,
We even more appreciate the images,
The pictures of our past,
As we glare onto those dark windows,
From our bright side.

And as we are held back,
Patience our companion,
We endeavour to be mighty,
To scrape the scales,
To render this flaws no more our captors,
That our ugliness may turn into beauty,
That our darkness may be overshadowed by the light,
And that we may find salvation in our redemption.


By Carl T


And if she’s a damsel in distress,

I am her faithful protector,

If she’s in burden,

I will carry her weight,

I will shelter her in loss,

I will guide her upon rocks,
If she stumbles and falls,

I will lift her, embrace her,

And banish the hurdles,
If she feels alone,

I will be the fire within the room,
In the presence of enemies,

Behold, I rise as a forest flame,

And render them mere splinters.
Under the scorching sun,

May she seek shade under me

In the torment of rainy storms,

I will be her umbrella,

In the cold winter,

May she find warmth within my arms,
Behold, as I approach her,

A lad unto his lass

A prince unto his princess,

A king unto his queen,

May she know that I will care for her




Fatally attracted,

like comets stranded,

she’s jogging on the pathway,

of my presence she’s alerted,

this path is a one way,

I notice she’s slowing down,

eventually I also stop running,

She tells me her name is Brenda,

I now clearly see,

she is indeed stunning,


She’s definitely better,

better than the Porsche in the runway,

better than that dahlia I water all day,

better than those relics I’d never throw away.


She’s no princess of Egypt,

she is queen of Persia,

she’s no lawyer’s maid,

she’s the king’s heir,

she’s no man’s captive,

she owns the mansion by the pines.


Its three years past,

the scene is Westminster, England,

as I prepare to hold her hand,

at the end of the aisle,

I see that damsel,

I nearly missed by the pathway.

by Carl T



Wreckless Avent

And we can see she has no idea of what dancing is,
And she herself understands she aint fly as is,
So she guides her soul into the dark for this,
She’s all over, she must be just searching for peace,

But she herself is hiding,
Her true self, not arising,

Till dawn when her heart is crying,

But the time is not yet, for the sun to rise,
The moon seems to rule, and in its wake demise,
Death of the good, and so the wise,

And in all of her sadness, I see a smile,
Her pockets full, so she’s succeeded,
She knows she was needed,
But somehow somewhere her mom’s appealing,
That she stop this dirty business,

But clearly I can see, that she likes the feel,
Of the touch and appeal,
Of the fog and the clouds on her skin,

Despite all this things,
Though her world may not seem real,
All she wants is to dream,
To skip town and feel free,

And take care of all these bills


by Carl T



For revenge, may not be our strongest suit,
Strength, not ours to show,
Those that lack firm roots,
Those, from whom defeat often assures,
And again those who seem to lack the final endure,
Those, whose eyes seem pure,
Whose demeanor spells peace,
Or is it fear,

However, in the final pull,
In the eventual draw,
When those who of early age prevailed,
We seem to amaze,
That the keys have changed places,
As the septum switches in and out of phase,
And so do the gazes,
Which now stare at our shining grace,
At the splendour of our radiant faces.

For we are the ones who made it out,
Out of the maze,
And into our rightful places,
And now we set the stage,
Onto which we direct the pace



by Carl T



imageThey die, that we may live,
They suffer, that we may survive,
As we revel in the splendour of our inventions,
They dwell in the fear of their demise,
That we may prosper,
That we may find joy in abundance,
And that they, in safety.
For their only joy is that in the end,
As they fade into the sunset,
They may swim in the sky,
And into a place of joy and peace



I hoped I would decline,
Natures gift, its sweetness divine,
But now, my crave, my addiction,
seems very much, my future’s destruction,
now this careless rave
that seems to bring only disgrace,
ceases to desist from its storm of rage,
it would seem as though it be tearing me apart,
nevertheless, I believe I possess
strength greater than this,
that though the pressure the torment,
I remain fully at ease,
for is not this what my nature brings,
The will to desist,
An ability to squander the world’s craziest of beliefs,
And dwell in my own abode.

That though, unto them,
I appear as the kind to retreat,
I stand my ground,
With full knowledge and understanding,
Of what my future beholds.

by Carl T


2 thoughts on “My Very own

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s