Welcome, Guest: Register On Nairaland / LOGIN! / Trending / Recent / NewStats: 3,198,713 members, 7,969,081 topics. Date: Monday, 07 October 2024 at 07:03 PM |
Nairaland Forum / Entertainment / Literature / Poem Hunting ;) (3896 Views)
My Experience In The Job Hunting World! / Hunting (2) (3) (4)
Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 2:08pm On Jul 18, 2015 |
Over the years, my Love for Poem and Novel grew...so, I want to buy this acres of land for storing My Ever green Poems... Let me go hunting for them.... (Notice: This Land Is PRA - Poem Reserved Area... Poet Zone...Keep Off!). Poem No1. “Piano and Drums” by Gabriel Okara When at break of day at a riverside I hear the jungle drums telegraphing the mystic rhythm, urgent, raw like bleeding flesh, speaking of primal youth and the beginning I see the panther ready to pounce the leopard snarling about to leap and the hunters crouch with spears poised; And my blood ripples, turns torrent, topples the years and at once I’m in my mother’s laps a suckling; at once I’m walking simple paths with no innovations, rugged, fashioned with the naked warmth of hurrying feet and groping hearts in green leaves and wild flowers pulsing. Then I hear a wailing piano solo speaking of complex ways in tear-furrowed concerto; of far away lands and new horizons with coaxing diminuendo, counterpoint, crescendo. But lost in the labyrinth of its complexities, it ends in the middle of a phrase at a dagger point. And I lost in the morning mist of an age at a riverside keep wandering in the mystic rhythm of jungle drums and the concerto. 1 Like 2 Shares |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 3:00pm On Jul 18, 2015 |
Poem No: 2 is short but it telefaxs memories of my home town to me....Shout out to all Ibadan! "Ibadan" By JP Clark Running splash of rust and gold-flung and scattered among seven hills like broken china in the sun. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 3:09pm On Jul 18, 2015 |
Poem No 3. This one I read in SSS 1. "Night Fall in Soweto" By Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali Nightfall comes like a dreaded disease seeping through the pores of a healthy body and ravaging it beyond repair. A murderer’s hand, lurking in the shadows, clasping the dagger, strikes down the helpless victim. I am the victim. I am slaughtered every night in the streets. I am cornered by the fear gnawing at my timid heart; in my helplessness I languish. Man has ceased to be man Man has become beast Man has become prey. I am the prey; I am the quarry to be run down by the marauding beast let loose by cruel nightfall from his cage of death. Where is my refuge? Where am I safe? Not in my matchbox house Where I barricade myself against nightfall. I tremble at his crunching footsteps, I quake at his deafening knock at the door. “Open up!” he barks like a rabid dog thirsty for my blood. Nightfall! Nightfall! You are my mortal enemy. But why were you ever created? Why can’t it be daytime? Daytime forever more? |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 3:28pm On Jul 18, 2015 |
Poem No 4. This My Lecturer said was about the civil war in Nigeria back then and also symbolizes the current state of the Nation. Casualties By JP Clark. The casualties are not only those who are dead. They are well out of it. The casualties are not only those who are dead. Though they await burial by installment. The casualties are not only those who are lost Persons or property, hard as it is To grope for a touch that some May not know is not there. The casualties are not only those led away by night. The cell is a cruel place, sometimes a haven. No where as absolute as the grave. The casualties are not only those who started A fire and now cannot put out. Thousands Are are burning that have no say in the matter. The casualties are not only those who are escaping. The shattered shall become prisoners in A fortress of falling walls The casualties are many, and a good member as well Outside the scenes of ravage and wreck; They are the emissaries of rift, So smug in smoke-rooms they haunt abroad, They do not see the funeral piles At home eating up the forests. They are wandering minstrels who, beating on The drums of the human heart, draw the world Into a dance with rites it does not know. The drums overwhelm the guns… Caught in the clash of counter claims and charges When not in the niche others left, We fall. All casualties of the war. Because we cannot hear each other speak. Because eyes have ceased the face from the crowd. Because whether we know or Do not the extent of wrongs on all sides, We are characters now other than before The war began, the stay-at-home unsettled By taxes and rumours, the looters for office And wares, fearful everyday the owners may return. We are all casualties, All sagging as are The cases celebrated for kwashiorkor. The unforseen camp-follower of not just our war. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 3:40pm On Jul 18, 2015 |
Poem No 5. "The Fence" By Lenrie Peters There where the dim past and future mingle their nebulous hopes and aspirations there I lie. There where truth and untruth struggle in endless and bloody combat, there I lie. There where time moves forwards and backwards with not one moment’s pause for sighing, there I lie. There where the body ages relentlessly and only the feeble mind can wander back there I lie in open-souled amazement There where all the opposites arrive to plague the inner senses, but do not fuse, I hold my head; and then contrive to stop the constant motion. my head goes round and round, but I have not been drinking; I feel the buoyant waves; I stagger It seems the world has changed her garment. but it is I who have not crossed the fence, So there I lie. There where the need for good and “the doing good” conflict, there I lie. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 11:06am On Jul 19, 2015 |
Poem No 6 on my Ever-Green List is "The Pauper" by Richard Ntiru Pauper, pauper, craning yours eyes in all directions, in no direction! What brutal force, malignant element dared to forge your piteous fate? Was it worth the effort, the time? You limply lean on a leafless tree, nursing the jiggers that shrivel your bottom, like a baby newly born to an old woman. What crime, what treason did you commit, that you are thus condemned? And when you trudge on your Hot pads, gullied like the soles of modern shoes, pads that even jiggers cannot conquer. Does He admire your sense of endurance or turn his head away from your impudent presence? You sit alone on hairless goatskins, your ribs and bones reflecting the light that beautiful cars reflect on you, squashing lice between your nails and cleaning your nails with dry saliva. And when He looks at the grimy coating caking off your emaciated skin, at the rust that uproots all your teeth, like a pick on a stony piece of land. Does He pat his paunch at the wonderful sight? Pauper, pauper crouching in beautiful verandas of beautiful cities and beautiful people. Tourists and I will take you snapshots. And your MP with a shining head and triple chin will mourn your fate in a supplementary question at question time. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 9:38pm On Jul 19, 2015 |
Poem No 7 is a poem i read in SSS3 "Africa" By David Diop. Africa, my Africa Africa of proud warriors in ancestralsavannahs Africa of whom my grandmother sings On the banks of the distant river I have never known you But your blood flows in my veins Your beautiful black blood that irrigates the fields The blood of your sweat The sweat of your work The work of your slavery Africa, tell me Africa Is this you, this back that is bent This back that breaks Under the weight of humiliation This back trembling with red scars And saying yes to the whip under the midday sun But a grave voice answers me Impetuous child that tree, young and strong That tree over there Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers That is your Africa springing up anew Springing up patiently, obstinately Whose fruit bit by bit acquires The bitter taste of liberty. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 10:52am On Jul 20, 2015 |
Poem No 8...this one is for those - including who are curious about the future - "The Panic of Growing Older" By Lenrie Peters. at twenty stilled by hope of gigantic success time and exploration at thirty a sudden throb of pain laboratory test having nothing to show legs cribbed in domesticity allow no sudden leaps at the moon now. Copybook bisected with red ink and failures– nothing to show the world. Three children the world perhaps the world expects it of you. No specialist’s effort there. But science give hope of twice three score and ten. hope is not a grain of sand inner satisfaction dwindles sharp blades of expectation. From now on the world has you. |
Re: Poem Hunting ;) by omitooguns(m): 11:36am On Jul 20, 2015 |
Poem No 9....This Poem was written by a poet whose papa was also a poet... "Rediscovery" By Kofi Awoonor When our tears are dry on the shore And the fishermen carry their nets home And the sea gulls return to Bird Island And the laughter of the children recedes At night There shall still linger here the communion we Forged The feast of oneness which we partook of There shall still be the eternal gate-men Who will close the cemetery door And send the late mourners away It cannot be music we heard that night That still lingers in the chambers ofmemory It is the new chorus of our forgottencomrades And the halleluyahs of our second selves. |
(1) (Reply)
Intimacy 18+ Prologue / A Good Writer Should Help Me Write This / Literature Section Diary Thread
(Go Up)
Sections: politics (1) business autos (1) jobs (1) career education (1) romance computers phones travel sports fashion health religion celebs tv-movies music-radio literature webmasters programming techmarket Links: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) Nairaland - Copyright © 2005 - 2024 Oluwaseun Osewa. All rights reserved. See How To Advertise. 27 |