Submissions by naijapoeteket (Idiong Divine)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I be an internationally acclaimed author of poetry, short stories and a novel.
SELF POEM
Published
3rd Jan 2011 11:50am
3rd Jan 2011 11:50am
Bookworm
Really not a space for me
To sleep on my soft, soft bed
With books all over to read
A lot of them still being read
My day is not yet over
Must read cover to cover.
I’m lost in the world of books
As it’s obvious in my looks
Oft am I consumed in thoughts
Of what ought and what ought not.
Only like minds appreciate
Such light which through me radiates.
That makes them call me bookworm
But do I so truly look
Just like a worm from a book?
They should just call me earthworm.
To sleep on my soft, soft bed
With books all over to read
A lot of them still being read
My day is not yet over
Must read cover to cover.
I’m lost in the world of books
As it’s obvious in my looks
Oft am I consumed in thoughts
Of what ought and what ought not.
Only like minds appreciate
Such light which through me radiates.
That makes them call me bookworm
But do I so truly look
Just like a worm from a book?
They should just call me earthworm.
803 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Jan 2011 11:48am
3rd Jan 2011 11:48am
Night Party
We thought we would enjoy ourselves
Round the clock from twelve to twelve
In May, a few days to June
We were drawn out by the tune.
Democracy, cool dance, so cool
So we were taught in school.
All would become part of the dance.
That on deck, will be all hands.
And so here we are since may
Like children, waiting to play
Under the glare of the full moon
To rehearse the dance in June.
Our tongue laden with songs to sing
We would dance the night away
And forever forget our years of pain.
Now here we are, pregnant with thoughts....
Round the clock from twelve to twelve
In May, a few days to June
We were drawn out by the tune.
Democracy, cool dance, so cool
So we were taught in school.
All would become part of the dance.
That on deck, will be all hands.
And so here we are since may
Like children, waiting to play
Under the glare of the full moon
To rehearse the dance in June.
Our tongue laden with songs to sing
We would dance the night away
And forever forget our years of pain.
Now here we are, pregnant with thoughts....
2039 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
28th Dec 2010 1:47pm
28th Dec 2010 1:47pm
God’s Own Foot Stool
The earth is such a home
Harbouring a numberless number
Of dwellers so sandy in number
The earth is such a mother
Bearing all the afflictions
Imposed on her by nations.
The earth is such a lover
And such a open lover
Laying ever so naked
For any willing husband
Who would rather rape and
Leave her dejected.
The earth is such a timer
And such a perfect timer
Counting perfectly the
degrees, seconds
Through the days, years
To the centuries and
millenniums.
So if earth be a mother,
A lover and timer...
Harbouring a numberless number
Of dwellers so sandy in number
The earth is such a mother
Bearing all the afflictions
Imposed on her by nations.
The earth is such a lover
And such a open lover
Laying ever so naked
For any willing husband
Who would rather rape and
Leave her dejected.
The earth is such a timer
And such a perfect timer
Counting perfectly the
degrees, seconds
Through the days, years
To the centuries and
millenniums.
So if earth be a mother,
A lover and timer...
1065 reads
4 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
28th Dec 2010 1:41pm
28th Dec 2010 1:41pm
If I were a Painter
If really I were a gifted painter
And as it were, I was to paint a man
I’d get my draw board, brush, paint and water
I’d work as open mindedly as I can
To bring out the true image of the soul
God created at the very beginning.
I would produce a man strong, bold and whole
One that’d be in his image and liking.
I won’t paint the fragile man with briefcase
In three piece suit with bible and tie.
I would paint a hunter with open face
Returning home from the toil of the night.
-He looks savage hunting for hares and harts
-Yet he’s truly the soul...
And as it were, I was to paint a man
I’d get my draw board, brush, paint and water
I’d work as open mindedly as I can
To bring out the true image of the soul
God created at the very beginning.
I would produce a man strong, bold and whole
One that’d be in his image and liking.
I won’t paint the fragile man with briefcase
In three piece suit with bible and tie.
I would paint a hunter with open face
Returning home from the toil of the night.
-He looks savage hunting for hares and harts
-Yet he’s truly the soul...
927 reads
6 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
27th Dec 2010 3:22pm
27th Dec 2010 3:22pm
Light at the End
When it hits my chest
It would not lay me to rest
It cannot bring about my end
So long I refuse to bend
Death on my chest
Is but a test
On my will to live up
To see if I would give up
The Giver would allow the pain
After seeing my faith on life
He would restore me again.
Death test is but in the while
Of a second
After which we can go on.
It would not lay me to rest
It cannot bring about my end
So long I refuse to bend
Death on my chest
Is but a test
On my will to live up
To see if I would give up
The Giver would allow the pain
After seeing my faith on life
He would restore me again.
Death test is but in the while
Of a second
After which we can go on.
687 reads
0 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
23rd Dec 2010 7:23am
23rd Dec 2010 7:23am
WORSHIP
The sea flowing
In low speed
Into the open ocean
That never gets drunk
Or satiated drinking
The natural salt.
The sea dancing
In undulating meander
To unheard numbers
With varying emotions
Hot when angered
Sinking high tech ships
To drown life vested crew.
Cool when pleased
Allowing a vulnerable canoe
To row with ease
Sparing its helpless
paddler.
See the sea
Breathing the sea breezes
To soothe the atmosphere.
They say it had been
Even before our births.
Carrying the glory...
In low speed
Into the open ocean
That never gets drunk
Or satiated drinking
The natural salt.
The sea dancing
In undulating meander
To unheard numbers
With varying emotions
Hot when angered
Sinking high tech ships
To drown life vested crew.
Cool when pleased
Allowing a vulnerable canoe
To row with ease
Sparing its helpless
paddler.
See the sea
Breathing the sea breezes
To soothe the atmosphere.
They say it had been
Even before our births.
Carrying the glory...
687 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Dec 2010 3:05pm
21st Dec 2010 3:05pm
Walking Shadows
I am but a
Walking shadow.
When I hurt
You don’t feel it.
We are but shadows
When I talk to you
You don’t hear me.
Walking shadow.
When I hurt
You don’t feel it.
We are but shadows
When I talk to you
You don’t hear me.
677 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Dec 2010 2:48pm
21st Dec 2010 2:48pm
FLOWER
I wish I was a flower
Not even water
Water can be angered.
...Humans are worse
They can pretend.
I don't want to be
Your angel at all
So as not to be
Invisible to you.
I only wish to be
The flower that
Decorates your soul
Not even water
Water can be angered.
...Humans are worse
They can pretend.
I don't want to be
Your angel at all
So as not to be
Invisible to you.
I only wish to be
The flower that
Decorates your soul
833 reads
6 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Dec 2010 3:43pm
15th Dec 2010 3:43pm
Unusual
You think I expected you
To know my ways
To comprehend and construe
And like my style.
I never did
Have such expectations
Oh incomprehensible ways
Sleekly complicated
Who can predict the ways
Of a young lad with maidens?
My life is a young lad
And also maidens.
And I will not suffer you
To comprehend.
To know my ways
To comprehend and construe
And like my style.
I never did
Have such expectations
Oh incomprehensible ways
Sleekly complicated
Who can predict the ways
Of a young lad with maidens?
My life is a young lad
And also maidens.
And I will not suffer you
To comprehend.
783 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Dec 2010 3:40pm
15th Dec 2010 3:40pm
We Greet You – for Dr Nelson Mandela
The lion does not ask to be king
Everyone knows he is.
The beautiful black lion
Who plays with thunder
Who swallows fire
And wraps a python
Around his waist like wrapper.
The fearless black lion
From the south
We greet you.
It is you carrying the crown
That we greet.
You that have refused to beat us
With the scepter.
We salute you.
You have refused to feast
On the blood and future
Of many unborn children
So we greet you.
Everyone knows he is.
The beautiful black lion
Who plays with thunder
Who swallows fire
And wraps a python
Around his waist like wrapper.
The fearless black lion
From the south
We greet you.
It is you carrying the crown
That we greet.
You that have refused to beat us
With the scepter.
We salute you.
You have refused to feast
On the blood and future
Of many unborn children
So we greet you.
672 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
14th Dec 2010 3:16pm
14th Dec 2010 3:16pm
Blood on the Head
No need naming names
They know
Those who played games
With the future
Of these hungry little ones.
These big bellied children
With fat heads and flat bottoms
That have never known nutrition
Someone traded their destiny
And their blood is on his head.
You who gambled away
Their soul at the foreign casino
And spilt their blood
On the altar of embezzlement
Their blood is on your head.
There lies the future of our children
Stashed far away in foreign accounts
To freeze. Never to be seen again
Soon many more...
They know
Those who played games
With the future
Of these hungry little ones.
These big bellied children
With fat heads and flat bottoms
That have never known nutrition
Someone traded their destiny
And their blood is on his head.
You who gambled away
Their soul at the foreign casino
And spilt their blood
On the altar of embezzlement
Their blood is on your head.
There lies the future of our children
Stashed far away in foreign accounts
To freeze. Never to be seen again
Soon many more...
674 reads
0 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
13th Dec 2010 2:51pm
13th Dec 2010 2:51pm
Nation Building
Swimming in the muddy struggle
Of academics
The fire in our eyes
Consuming the
Many tattered books
In dust laden libraries
Across the land.
All the time our hearts
Pounding with hope
Hope that we are
The leaders of tomorrow
We were told so
At the cradle.
So we bore it all
Stinking dormitories,
Hollow mosquito nets
Pain and stress and malaria
Learning to build a nation.
And at the climax
We flow
With the harsh current
On to the ocean of uncertainty
Wide enough for every fish
To swim or...
Of academics
The fire in our eyes
Consuming the
Many tattered books
In dust laden libraries
Across the land.
All the time our hearts
Pounding with hope
Hope that we are
The leaders of tomorrow
We were told so
At the cradle.
So we bore it all
Stinking dormitories,
Hollow mosquito nets
Pain and stress and malaria
Learning to build a nation.
And at the climax
We flow
With the harsh current
On to the ocean of uncertainty
Wide enough for every fish
To swim or...
946 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by naijapoeteket (Idiong Divine)
