"kofi" poems
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 of memory
It is the new chorus of our forgotten comrades
And the hallelujahs of our second selves
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 9:10 PM UTC
They began without notice, in the city of Mombasa
By the Al shabab shooting baby Osinya in the head,
Killed the mother, leaving a slug stuck in Osinya’s head
Killing and mauling many others macabrously,
Killing for no other reason, but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
They had initially lynched the West Gate Mall
In Nairobi, killing the aged and seasoned darling
Of African poetry and true fountain of peace
The dearest Kofi Awonor, in full watch of his son,
Confirming a trail of the ghastly curse of fate and death
That totted him arduously from his home in the west
Of the tropical gulag that makes the land of Africa
From where the terror maestro ; Boko haram reign scot free
Mayheming, Killing, ****** and kidnapping harmless virgins
Killing For no other reason but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
They have now killed fifty peasants in Mpeketon town,
****** them in circles to puncture their virginity
and brutally kidnapping those that are not *****
Using the AK 47 and the Ak 74 to shoot and ****
Without reason nor course but failure of mind
Botched down by authenticity of holy diversity
Heavenly packaged in God’s idea of tribe,
Uhm! An African man with a gun is a brute of brutes,
Giving an African a gun is simple mess of the world
In to helter-skelter poise tilting peace higgledy-piggledy,
Killing one another like animals premised by Charles Darwin
As overtly seen in the warring Congo and CAR,
Where Africans **** one another in a stupid dint,
To ape Rwanda or no! To outshine the Jewish Massacre
In the Ammonium chambers of fuehrer Adolf ******
This stupid Africans baser than wild beasts,
Who told you that your greatness will come
from killing your neighbours; the fellow peasants?
These African men are the modern homoguerrillus,
Which one call cheap war making man
They and **** ! **** **** **** **** **** ****
For no other reason but faith and tribe,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
Gunshots of the gunmen in Africa are not
A song of the caged bird, no whatsoever,
They are cowardly maneuvers of the weak
As the weak and cowards rarely forgive,
They arm themselves to the teeth
With deadly weapons from Russia or wherever
Only to shoot and **** the old and malnourished
Peasant women, killing the likes of baby Osinya
Shooting a suckling baby to prove your heroism,
These African men are really a Whiteman’s burden,
They **** their fellows from cockcrow to chick roost
For no other reason but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
Why do you take the great ones?
You come with your death notes
And without any prior warning
You leave scores of people crying
Why leave the ones that are dumb
Why can't we have a referendum?
I don't think it's fair to remain stoic
Maybe you will see truth ,the logic
And the reason to reconsider things.
Nobody likes what your visitation brings
Stop taking the people we love most.
Take a break from job and read this post
Tell me afterward if I'm right or wrong
We are tired swaying to your funeral song.
Today you took the great Kofi Annan
Almost on the same date you took my Nana.
Day before yesterday you took Aretha
Like you took my dearest Aunt Martha.
©IvanBrooksPoetry
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
By Jennifersoter Ezewi
I heard them call Kofi
When my sugar turned coffee
At the presence of a thing
Called coffin.
I know the living Kofi
Who doesn't come late
But is now late at the
Expense of a call called death.
The peace movement resound Kofi
Who couldn't respond from a coffin
But his legacy resound peace
That could not be bound.
Here is Kofi
Whose presence bespeak peace
But the day announced requiem
As nations sounds plaintive.
Goodbye Kofi,
Africa will always remember
That you united nations
Before your exit.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
In the dark we groove for light
Awaiting again the lion's roar
To awaken us from a stupor
A Maniac infuse to our culture
Mislearnig adventures incured by our search
Searching for light with the touch in hand
Searching within the endless tunnels of knowledge
Bellowing our rich forest and mangroves
Bastadizing the deep sea of life bestowment.
True and of a truth...!
Silence is a guide but we lost touch of the hunters skills
Skills that unwind the pantheon, crossed the hyaenea
And put paid to the antics of the Foxes
Our quest is now an inquests
Following the foxes of this sphere in a hide and seek dance
A salient dance of alienation between the Hunter and the antelope.
Will the lion ever roar again..?
Chinua Achebe, Kofi Awenora,Senghor, Bongo Mbeti,
Dennis Brutus, Alex La Guma, Anthol Fugar
Nelson Mandela, Cyprain Ekwensi,
Christopher Okigbo and now Gabriel Okara
....And other great lions
Living and dead whose roaring sounds
Cascades our spheres and beyond.
The great lioness;
Bessie Head, Nardi Gordimar,Mariana Ba,
Mabel Segun, Amata Aido,, Doris Lessing
Helen Oviagere, Buchi Emecheta.....!
Your breast has not dried up yet
And your ******* still drips with milk of knowledge
Only we lack sulking skills to quesh the hunger and thirst
We cry for trivialities searching for food outside our barns and homesteads
We long and thirst for great sayings with Witt
Idioms with Music accomplishments to rummage deep into our marrow
Pickerng into our very being .....Healing!
We long for the roaring Lions
Seeking sounds to penetrate deep into our persons
We long for true words and essences
Piercing through the very depths of our soul
Written by
Otuogbodor Okeibunor Abuja, Nigeria
— The End —
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 12:25 PM UTC
I put the sharpen on em,
I hear the choppers coming,
Can’t eraser the past,
Everyone think I’m high off something. (X2)
Catch a vibe, I’m bumping.
Match with left swipe, I’m thirsty!
Oil up the pipe, I’m gushing.
My girl play my trumpet as good as Cindy Bradly.
So you bet imma be going down her pipe, like I’m jump man!
(Mario sound effects)
Popping the cherry off,
Got her yelling mozel tov!
Bringing down her walls, like I’m Gorbachev.
Sensual tingling heat, blasting out like a Molotov.
Fronting like a boss, spending cash mischievously!
Disrupting the masses, by saving music
Obviously.
And a lot be hating, but they just mad that they can’t understand me.
Because my lyrics go over their heads g.
So, I wont apologize for spreading the truth homie!
And I may never win a Grammy,
But I don’t need trophies to prove I’m the greatest g!
For my lyrics be piercing,
Are you listening?
Or do I need to put the sharpen on ya?
I put the sharpen on em,
I hear the choppers coming,
Can’t eraser the past,
Everyone think I’m high off something. (X2)
Catch a vibe, ya tripping!
I’m not in my right mind, I’m slipping.
Pull out the lean, I’m sipping!
Oh, lord please have mercy.
My vision getting blurry.
And If it ever comes back, find out where’s Perry?
I’m immediately regretting this decision, like I’m Ron Burgundy.
Can’t **** my struggles away like Timmy’s fairies.
If only real life could let up,
When I scream parley.
Who knew pirates had better morality than society eh?
Can’t it see I’m just living on a prayer like I’m Bon Jovi?
And just when life starts giving me a push, I get robbed like Kofi.
It only takes 5 seconds for things to go Nagasaki.
If only things could roll off me like I’m Rolie polie Olie.
If only I could hit three pointers as good as Steph curry.
Or be as funny as Bill Murray.
But as long as you fans still support me,
That enough for me.
And if you hate me, I might have to put the sharpen on thee.
I put the sharpen on em,
I hear the choppers coming,
Can’t eraser the past,
Everyone think I’m high off something. (X2)
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
“In their greatest hour of need, the world failed the people of Rwanda.”
- Kofi Annan
I have never desired to step inside
a mass grave, but the white marble top
covering a piece of the ground like
a band-aid on a wound silently
invites me in with an open staircase.
The closer I move toward the
entrance, the more I am reminded of
hate. The hate lingers on the ground
around the grave, humming a ballad
reserved for attempted extinction.
Machetes, guns, and axes were the
instruments in the orchestra that
played the tune of death on this piece
of land. The screams of children,
gunshots piercing flesh, bone
breaking under blunt force. I enter
the grave not knowing what to feel.
My heart beats consciously as
I control the flow of air in and
out of my body, trying to play life’s
song amid the loud lingering hum
of hate that has seeped from the
ground above. The light that enters
does not brighten my feelings;
it only reveals the moments of
death on the walls which are shelved
with skulls, some with bullet holes,
some with fractures from machetes.
I move through the thin corridor
fearful of making eye contact
with the skulls for I do not want to
stare into the empty eye sockets
to see individual death. Femurs and
humeri lay like ***** clothes thrown
into the corner of a room. No longer do
they represent one human. Outside the
light warms my skin and directs my heart to beat unconsciously,
my breath to rise and fall in unison
with my steps. It shines upon a new
tune being played. Children laughing,
mothers yelling, hymns being sung. It
spotlights a beauty of humanity:
Reconciliation.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:06 AM UTC