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{P.L.O.T.S.} – Creatives Magazine


Creativity Is Humanities Algorithm

🌹✒️POETRYS – Adut Loi Akok (South Sudan)✒️🌹

Adut Loi Akok – Has also been chosen as our Magazine Ambassador for South Sudan.


ADUT LOI AKOK is a south sudanese young relentless poet, short stories writer, song writer, footballer and a spoken word Artist.
He started his writing in the year 2020 with short stories, and later switched after realizing his talent in poetry.
On becoming the jack of all trades, Adut has always exercises patience when it comes to his writing to make sure he reaches for the stars.

” All I pray for, is a blessing on my way”
As he answered what he would wish next in his writing endevours.
As a poet, Adut’s poems addresses beauty of mother nature, being descriptive, didactic poems, life’s travail journeys, very little of romance, childhood innocence, dark poetry and all that jazz.

Adut took a step to international collaboration where he was featured with some of the African poets both in east and west Africa. Moreover, he progressed and featured in some of the African anthologies like, ” Rainbow Africa” and the recently published book, “My Mental Health.”

It Sucks!

It sucks how I feel,
Seeing you enjoying the morn sun.
Waiting for moon to light up your night,

enjoying the lesisure – Staring at the glowing stars.
It sucks,
How I see the upheaval in you,
A real man repainting himself green,
As if real men change to colours that never Glow.
As if Real men skins aren’t more paramount than the milky ways.

It really sucks,
As you know I’m always a very gentle man,
But tonight your lingering life itched.
Tell me, if you really wish for a gown dress?
So definitely we’d get you married to the soil,
enjoying honeymoon with angels in the sky.

Tell me,do you?
Do you want us to disown you?
Real men create their own dreams,
Believed in their own inventions,
Reflections and ambitions,
real men are bold.
Please bear with me, I ain’t luring,
But it sucks!
It really sucks how I see you!



Hear__bear with me people of the blue.
This is a song of my soul__ oh crowd!
Listen to it __to the hilt,I have a clue.
I vow to afford you a smile and make you proud.

Onto the stage,I presume a broad laughter.
I’m not that painter,but I dare to paint you gold and pink.
Signing_ so melodies __ like I’m a master.
In that bluish face, I shall repaint with ink.

Dance, let’s this song ruin all your worries.
All the pangs, wrathes and evocation.
Oh come on__ stop sitting like juries!
I hope you too, believe music is every folk’s vocation.

Oh my sweet grin, how blessed I’m with you!
Oh sweet grin, how comfort my people are with Thou!


The above poem is a Spenserian sonnet.

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