The Shot - Poems For Review - Nairaland
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| The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:32pm On Oct 26, 2015 |
THE SHOT Across enemy line Came stinging rockets Reducing our platoon to nine. Bullets squirts off its sockets, One slitting a soldier's bowel Like a razor "On your heels!" Says the Colonel, Signalling his friend, the major. Six cowards dropped their accouterments And carried their legs Away from the cantonments, Ignoring our pleas and begs. They ran out and into the militia zone Like a brave coward... Booom! The militia let off their own - They matched forward (and).... Further buzzed on Like bees towards a honeycombed tree, Shooting from every corner and turn At any grassy-carmo they see. The colonel's rifle became sick A magazine, its antidote. His pistol also went bleak... Surrender or also bolt? Far from us three I saw them all, The 6 cowards got down with an RPG I watched their mutilation fall. Fear pinched me But professionalism won't let me be. My fingers lost a grip to my tool Due to my shivers, I heard the Major say "poor little fools" With pitiful quivers. Kpaa! A pebble of death Hit the colonel's throat and he fell to the ground, The Major yelled as the Colonel's breath Got lost in the cacophonous sound. Like an animal the Major charged, Squinting through his rifle Into their midst he barged, His life suddenly lost in a daredevil trifle. Taking down about twenty four Militia before my eyes, Then retreated on the floor Panting towards me while backing the sky. He raised his arm, and shook his head He's left with just one shot off his magazine. His eyes went browny-red That's far from the worst fear I have seen. Because our situation was dire, In confusion, I saw him bit his lip, And his fingers all red like a wild fire, With his arm loosing arm grip. He stole a brave glint and laughed like a child, But I knew it was his fears - The roar from the other side... He secretly wiped off his stubborn tears. Aha! For once, I saw a brave man cry, I believe he was worried about his family. Who wouldn't when he's about to die? Their pictures, usually the last in our memory. He pulled off his last shot And cleaned it with his sweat, I cleaned my lense too off its dirty spot And assumed my Russian roulette. We shook hands like comrade-in-arms And positioned for the last shot of our life. 'Click!' 'Kpaa!!' ... Our tools fell from our palms My last image was that of my young wife. Baby, that last shot was for you, My camera has really made me brave. Hey! To my boss, this is journalist Rotimi Tolu Reporting live from my grave.(Over!) 17 Likes 6 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by joseph1832(m): 12:43pm On Oct 26, 2015 |
Mr Tim has dropped one, Everybody come, take one, Be careful not to take all, Else you take none and then fall. Texanomaly roll, shake some, Firestar drop, twerk some, Llaykorn come and read some, While I come and spread some...   3 Likes 3 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by Chuksemi(m): 10:46pm On Oct 26, 2015 |
Powerful. I feel this one. |
| Re: The Shot by OMA4U(m): 10:53pm On Oct 28, 2015 |
The boss has done it again!
Do you mind sharing the background info of the poem? |
| Re: The Shot by OMA4U(m): 10:53pm On Oct 28, 2015 |
The boss has done it again!
Do you mind sharing the background info of the poem? |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 3:10pm On Nov 02, 2015 |
OMA4U: [b]Ermmm.... The Shot is a narrative poem with a,b,a,b rhyming scheme. It tells a story of the experience a journalist (photo-journalist) attached to a platoon recorded at the war front. His event started when his platoon was reduced to nine soldiers of which 6 out of the nine abandoned their battle and fled, but only to be downed by the militia's RPG. Among the remaining soldiers are a Colonel and a Major (two bosom friends with vast war experience) and a journalist. The Colonel soon got killed after he ran out of ammo. This prompted his friend, the Major to charge in anger like he was about to avenge his friend's death but retreated when he discovered that he's left with just one bullet. With only one bullet left, he got prepared for the worst especially when he sighted like a zillion militia. The journalist who has been capturing the war event could have opted out but was just too professional he wanted to the last of it - he wanted the world to see his works even if cost him his life. When the Major signaled to him to prepare for the worst that he's left with one shot, he brazed up and prepared his camera to capture his last shot too. Unfortunately, they all died that day after taking their last shots each. The Shot from his camera was his dairy. [/b] 7 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: The Shot by Qaisar1: 12:13am On Nov 03, 2015 |
Touching! 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by JigsawKillah(m): 8:51am On Nov 03, 2015 |
Sick! 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 11:38am On Nov 03, 2015 |
| Re: The Shot by basille(m): 7:12pm On Nov 03, 2015 |
Mr.Timpaker teach me how to write like you na! 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by llaykorn: 8:21pm On Nov 03, 2015 |
basille: You're not the first to ask him this......but he never answers us.  1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:40pm On Nov 04, 2015 |
| Re: The Shot by whitecloth: 4:34pm On Nov 04, 2015 |
This is beautiful.
am impressed, I like writing Christian poetic article. 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by noble4d(m): 8:01pm On Nov 05, 2015 |
Wow? Bro this is terrific. I'm kinda too busy to write new poems, anyways, I hail thee. 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 2:05pm On Jan 15, 2016 |
The Shot (Part 2) Ladies and Gentlemen, Khaki and silk, With a mask of shame I stand before you As a victim, a coward, A caricature and a loner. A body of scar and pain, Deserving and undeserving, They're now mine to live with, Even the air now mock me As it caresses the bullets in my bones Like a flute it sings out my betrayal. I loved myself more than the people I swore to protect, I have only one life And I was selfish then and I ain't now, Air no longer smells soothing when inhaled As my breath suddenly makes no perfect sense. Two terrorist held a family hostage With guns pointing to their heads They were fretting in bondage And they seemed serious in shooting them dead. My thought suddenly elope with fear While my team were far from near; Kpa!!! My decision cost all their lives - That family and the two terrorists. While I shot myself on my hand, hip and leg To escape 'super' questions on the mise-en-scene, My lies won me the Oscar for deceit With a misdemeanor in impatience. I spent weeks nursing my wounds But the bigger wound rest in my conscience. Today I appear before you - My uniform in a mess, My rifle rustling away in a box, My conscience on per second pinch With laughter and smiles hard to make - Like a stoned face; with guilt Making a fountain from my eyes In regret on many strings. Yes I fumbled with my duties And I can't pay for my deed Because suicide is painfully expensive! Besides, honour rest in thee who wields a gun, I bestow that honour in you..... Let me have my shot! 7 Likes 4 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by firestar(f): 11:23am On Feb 12, 2016 |
Sadist. |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:46pm On Mar 21, 2016 |
The Shot (Emotions) Far across the desert sea of Sambisa Lays an inland of crime bustling militia Wielding tools that coughs out death, To it we crawled with our four chained-legged monster On the wrinkled naked sands with a mask of bravery, Hiding the fear of failure that glows on our faces. Like a duck we caravanned into our mission Snipping a tattered militia in a ragtag 'danshaki', His head headed his heap of shield and his eyes glued To the wall behind; death was alive once again, As it took lives at ease in its theater of thunderous applauds. We shot into their defenses, causing a pandemonium which exposes their desperation and lack of control. A young lass in hijab as if immune to bullets Flung towards us crying, she seemed lost - Her steps steep the ground in a somewhat compass of confusion; Our guns stopped talking. Our emotions overwhelmed our gun's lips - It kisses pause! But she ran and hugged a soldier Whose waiting arms fell out the sky like a butcher's chop. Twelve soldiers were killed by suicide - Oh young lass! Again, our bullets sang our pain into their end, Their decimation became easy with a stain of anger in us. Then another lass sprouted out in the open, A modus somehow similar to the first. My comrades again hesitated and kissed pause. Private Oche dunt his rifle at her, she fell... And my trigger clinched my finger to let out a shot To her stomach pouring out her duodenum. We watched her struggle to breathe till her life was gone. But on searching her hijab, she had no suicide vest on.... My shot killed an unarmed girl............... 3 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: The Shot by Dklef(m): 1:11pm On Mar 21, 2016 |
Damm! This is art man. Tim Pee are you a journalist? |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 1:18pm On Mar 21, 2016 |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 1:23pm On Mar 21, 2016 |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 10:59am On Sep 08, 2016 |
The Shot (The Damned) One shot and a boom awakened my dead fear, Bravery rolled down my cheek in a tear That is bedevilled with a loss I can't bear. From a mortar to a landmine, My platoon reduced to a meagre wounded nine Trapped in a theatre of shreds, One step, one boooom!!! Many deaths: Brothers sleeping on enemies deathbeds. I and the last nine made a daring retreat But found out it was a suicidal retreat, We were trapped in one of death's greatest cheat. With a heart, heavy and a sweaty palm I imagined how death couldn't be anyway calm, Must it really stare at us with no option? How daring! No sign, no caution. But we aren't going down with no action. For two days we waited on a single spot Under unfavourable weather both cold and hot, Picturing how our last fight would be fought. My bullets were all engraved with "Fucktards", Each for anyone of those _bastards It stings - my feet held tight to my booth So it wouldn't run when pain escapes from my tooth, Then in convoys they came like a weed without root. Dust glued the air and painted the cloud, Their coming was daring and loud Like a buzz from a soldier ant crowd. I smelt the flaring fragrance of their fury And felt the tinge of fear unknown to me. Suddenly, the air smelt different like a grave, Having dug plenty for my friends, the brave; I know. We sure aren't going to be saved. They stopped at about a kilometre away from us, We wondered why they paused, Are we that cursed? Don't we both deserve an honourable death? We're ready to be committed to mother earth. "Common you _fucktards!" we screamed. But they turned and left, it was like a dream. I guess they know we're dead already for real. It's just a matter of time we're blown for real. 4 Likes 3 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by llaykorn: 7:54pm On Sep 21, 2016 |
timpaker: The last line had a tear in my eye. Shot is a collection of beautifully heartbreaking pieces. Chance made me check; I never knew you added to the first poem. Please don't stop this. There are still too many stories to tell of unforgettable shots. 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by noble4d(m): 8:05am On Oct 03, 2016 |
timpaker:nice poem Bro |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 11:58am On Oct 24, 2016 |
The Shot (Assault Team - Eulogy of Private Abubakar) On that hilly bush That we're to crawl and push Into the defense of the enemy A place known as 'death colony'. A very loud wail Stops our trail. The wail travels with pain That could make any eyes rain. Our faces foams foggy cloud As a serpent stood proud It stung again and made a hiss; A king cobra kiss. Abubakar writhes and cry He knew he's about to die. He still struggled to kill it But it was fast; and about twelve feet. He tried to aim its head With his dagger to have it dead But fails and his face went pale, His hands were shaky and frail Like a parkinson patient, His breath becoming deficient. And a hole lays three foot Beside his bushy boot. In it hosts a bowl of snake Whose sight could make a heart quake. He wondered which pains the most, A bullet hole or poison in blood's hose. There was no room for bravery - No, not in nature's treachery. Death was already his guest It was knocking on his chest. So he unpined his grenade from his vest And grabbed the snake to its nest In two seconds life locked its sight That was Private Abubakar's last night Now lets pop a shot of whisky To him who made our journey to victory less risky. 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:02pm On Oct 24, 2016 |
llaykorn: Hehehehehehe. Thanks for stopping by. That particular poem is a true story and it happened in Borno early this year as reported by one of my friend and today he's MIA. Oga Noble4D where have you been hiding?  |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:08pm On Oct 24, 2016 |
Recall: The Shot (Lieutenant Yakubu's Wedding) Fitted grassy suit Lights are at its brightest We've seen your Lover, And the 21 concubines that salutes your guests Relax, they knew why you chose her... She's by your side Always, like your heart to your head Lay with her with pride Beneath the flag on your boxy bed She's still like a steel She is, sexy under your arm, The world that we feel, Remain safe in your palm. See how her mouth Is rustling away - Needing kisses above your numb pout, Please kiss your bride As we end today in stride. 3 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 12:30am On Nov 07, 2016 |
The Shot (Elephantman) Beneath a blanket of surprise With the cold wind of death Blowing, the night unending, A sun sets and refuse to rise - A small giant perpetually sleeps Yet his candle snubbed his snuff. Griefs overflood the desert, As we put him into earth's care. Our voices spoke in breath-like tunes - silence, And for once our guns lost its voice too. How can death butcher our trunk? How do we console its giant shadow That weeps, weeps and weeps? The elephantman, the true king of the jungle, Was ushered into his funeral in a bird, Like a true-born king No widow's groan, no soldier tears, As tears aren't for heros, for he'd say: "If anyone must die, let it be me" Words that makes God cry, And men smile for he gave us all honour Knowing he has lived a reason to die. Comrade! Now lets take our shots... Special Dedication to Late Lt. Col. Muhammad Abu Ali (the Elephantman) 6 Likes 6 Shares
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| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 5:28pm On Nov 11, 2016 |
The Shot (Parting Prayer) Obedient gun, Honour me, Show me your loyalty isn't for fun Musical gun Entertain me, Sing me that "ta! ta!! ta!!" sound of pun Pretty gun Attract my preys So I can charm them one by one Smoking gun Protect me, Let my trigger make death run Coughing gun Are you now sick? Or has your enemy refuse to rise like the sun? Crying gun Wipe your arm, For your sweat will soon be gone Talking gun Humour me With the victories we have won Faithful gun Don't betray me Squirt death turn by turn Feable gun, Don't stop.... (...............) Oh see what death has done Silent gun Deafen me Let my fears get lost to never return Loving gun Lay with me Till my bones are worn Mourning gun Weep not Loving you was fun Saluting gun Call me at my grave The hero that i have become. 2 Likes 2 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 7:05pm On Nov 11, 2016 |
The Shot (Survivor) Many bodies decaying in the bush Some manuring dead trees to life And a soldier wanders into its track of dangerous rife, Knowing he could be them in a second but further he pushed. His gun grew hungry and his dagger thirsty And his tongue swam in flooded desert. He walked, he crawled and rolled Till sleep dressed up in death's garment And tried to seduce him. He could no longer smell life But he had to survive, If not for anything but for the tale. Night came and the cold crept in, Death seem closer to him As he stares at his dark picture on the ground, The moon flashed its teeth and the bush dimly glow, Allowing him take another look at his surrounding... Still nothing... Help seems to have absconded.... he mused. Tired and hopeless, The music in his heart began to loose its beat, The dreaded door of death began to open With a billowing cold from heat, But one sound was confusing to him, It was like the earth was falling down... He closed his eyes to surrender to death But it fled, its cowardice amused him And that he wondered till few saving hands grabbed him. He decided to wait for death's return And stole a peep from his funeral. He had been nicely dressed but his beret was tilted wrongly, His signature dark glasses glued dusty dust, So he lifted up his hand to mend them For even in death his handsomeness shouldn't be tainted. He made a move, He heard a voice, He opened his eyes And he was in a chopper Being airlifted to his base. 1 Like 2 Shares |
| Re: The Shot by WriteousDavid(m): 2:09pm On Nov 18, 2016 |
more sweat to your armpits.. raise the glass.. let's take a shot. 1 Like |
| Re: The Shot by Switup: 7:01pm On Nov 18, 2016 |
firestar:i love ur signature 2 Likes |
| Re: The Shot by timpaker(m): 9:44am On Dec 07, 2016 |
The Shot (Snipper's Gaze) Sweating, from a distance, Palm blistering still My rifle seeks a chance To lock a perfect kill. Striking the photographer's pose Amid sandy sweats Waving on the fountain of my nose Steaming my lens wet. My arm still-steady Like a robotic mannequin, Eyes yet not ready, Prey visibly unseen. So I stood still as silence, With a squinting stare Submitting to the jungle's ambience And my instincts utmost care. A glint passes by My target was locked, Making my patience sigh And my blink knocked. I bit my lip And lowered my finger, Taking a sip Of breath for the trigger. Kposaar!!! Goes the thud of hell, Silence awakens. A head shot and he fell, His skull broken. Attack!!!... 4 Likes 4 Shares |
Education <poem> / A Poem Against Xenophobia / The Other Side.
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