Hope for Ashes: A Collection of Poems for Nigerians Before They Cast Their Ballots

by | Feb 23, 2023 | 1 comment

By BUBBLY DOYAKA (Flowing Ink https://www.facebook.com/groups/362708401864267/?ref=share)

THE VOICE OF MY PEOPLE

The barking of dogs

The cry of infants

The steps; loud run

The voice of my people.

The sound of gunshots

The tension

The unending black night

The voice of my people.

The life but death me

The lost hope

The empty stares

The voice of my people.

The cry of children

The voices of women

The falling of men

The voice of my people.

They have come

They are here

Where do we run to?

The voice of my people.

The shot; within

The repudiated reality of life

The ceiling shelter

The voice of my people.

The knock, the breakage

The last shout of dad

The last cry of mum

The voice of my people.

The void room

The ablaze house

The dead hope

The voice of my people.

The full but empty land

The absence of life

The tears and sympathy of passersby

The voice of my people.

The denial of the existence

The jailing of peace

The child is the father of the house

The voice of my people.

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BACK TO FARM

Father with smiles, went he,

But return not.

Mother, eatery delivered,

And never returned.

Then the news. Herdsmen…

Oh, Ah.

Father, mothers, siblings.

Uncle’s, maize

plantation,

A people with yellow fever.

Aunt’s corn and cassava Feasted upon,

like wedding rice.

Yet!

Go back to farm; all I hear,

Go back to farm!

which farm?

Farm where our lives are taken without justice?

Farm we lack resources to maintain?

The farm we cultivate for cows to feast?

With tears, we smile

Knowing not our next expectation.

But certain

It will be good.

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MY HOME IS SICK

My stomach cry of lack,

My throat is dry as a desert,

The cloudy eyes,

The rain falls,

The dance legs.

The ambitious mind mourns its death,

The heart faint of its mislaid vision,

The soul witnesses its dream’s funeral,

Disappointed is the brain,

Never recognize; is a dilapidated investment.

My home is sick

Merit wish never rewarded.

Use of what?

My stomach still cry

Hope like Egyptians in the red sea.

Oh head!

I cry out loud!

Are your ears sleeping?

The eyes blind too?

The whole paralyze?

Do you need help to help?

My home is sick

Our home is sick

Quickly we bade farewell.

Carrying and leaving behind nothing.

History will be only a fiction.

Tomorrow leaders; denied todays fact

We need a cure

Who will?

Is beyond the doctor

Oh dear heads,

Please forget all hairstyles;

Attain to us

Cure us.

A finger is better than none.

A living dog is stronger than a dead lion.

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VOICED OF THE SURVIVALS

Remember how you run home

When faced with terror?

How do you use parents as shelter?

When the home is the only security

Needed to feel safe?

When parents are the only thing

Needed to feel protected?

When the home was indeed

Home sweet home?

Home now

Home sorrow home

Peace has been washed away by war and crises

Security invaded by terrorism

Parents forced to visit the land of no return

Home now in need of protection

Dying of hunger and thirst

Dry and empty like a desert

Though the streams still flows

The fruit trees still stand

And ever green.

Though empty, yet I remember

The sweet memories of home sweet home

As the memories live on

Home will be sweet again.

THEY ARE DOING WELL

They are doing well, aren’t they?

Lamenting over the suffering of the masses:

Yet with folded hands, with blind eyes and deaf ears.

They watch at their affliction?

They are doing well, aren’t they?

Make life become trash:

Trashed into big holes for manure.

Houses burnt to ashes?

They are doing well, aren’t they?

Running a system that…..

Recognizes leaders only.

What is a leader without followers?

They are doing well, aren’t they?

When they judge on;

All citizens have right

But some have more rights than others.

They are doing well, aren’t they?

Making citizens certified lairs

Providing employment in…..

Ministry of illegality and inhumanity.

Kidnap, fraud, social services, and terrorism

They are doing well, aren’t they?

Mirroring us as them

Been unaware of all happenings

Victims of twice beating?

Note: These poems are under protection, kindly contact the publishers (cliqjets Consulting ) @ +2349015582083 for permission to copy this work.

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1 Comment

  1. Faith

    Interesting poems
    Thanks for letting me know

    Reply

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