Tag Archives: #Poet

The Poet: Black PRIDE – Ifeanyi ONwuBU

Photo credit: Walter photography.

THE POET: BLACK PRIDE – IFEANYI ONWUBU

Who can match the
glory of the black
woman?

Adorned like the hanging
gardens of Babylon,
crowned like a lioness
in the jungle.

The swing of her
hips is the downfall
of kingdoms,
her brown lips has
lulled their mighty warriors
to sleep,
as she has stepped
into the city and
executed a great kill.

Shooting the sharp arrows
of a darkened eyes,
any man in her sight
she’s left stunned.

Her bosom is a
cradle for kings,
her soft breasts has
nursed giants.

Yet she ties a
down-to-earth fabric
around her chest,
and she smiles while
the whole world admires.

THE POET: WHY NO DRUMS?

Mr. Peter Ekpe, Writer, Poet and an up coming Scholar, Lives in Kaduna State, Nigeria.

WHY NO DRUMS?

The lockdown hunger is a guillotine
Executioner
The hangman of the poor is the opportunistic robber;
nefarious officials stealing higher than 419ers
Only good at making laws foisted round our jugulars

Why no drums in Nigeria beating the revolutionary alarm
Drums to inspire valour in the youths despite of any harm
Most we all surrender and be dump like this forever?
To the shades of religion, we always seek for cover

The disease of myopia amongst us is in gigantic scale
Not even an atom of our education could keep us safe
Able-bodied men become broken limbs and powdered bone
Most ladies is Nigeria think alike like some Barbie clone

We continue to follow blinding light down a crooked path
The clamour of mammoth poverty will be the aftermath
We are not just cowards only to a virus
caught by shaking hands
For there is no inscription on the epitaph of a common man

After Corona, crime will makeup her face like a naughty street girl
Attracting young bloods, where countless gangs will gel
I see springs of ambition flooded through the gutters
Normal ways of living certainly will begin to stutter

A fresh master plan reverberates in their secret places
And is felt across the globe, testing all races
The pyramid has no place for the ecological balance of the poor
The tales of Revelation makes me ponder more

The exploits of technology brings forth a Savage culture
The media is the make-up artist of the face of a Vulture
To the claws of bio-terrorism, Africa we fall prey
Covid-19 is the confusion and world power are ready to play

Rivers of Tears will be shed and all religion will loudly pray
While our politician’s loot will end-up in a foriengn shopping spray
Like the avowal of failure, we say everything is to blame
Good economy comes with a cost. Are we ready to play it’s game?

So like a trabadour, let my poem traverse the nation
Changing our mindset to start the revolt conversation
The Mutants of corruption have made Nigeria the home to stay
Join the uncanny X-Men to fight and save the day.

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