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Two Poems from our Holocaust Poetry Collection

 
 
IF I WASNT A KNOT, COULD YOU STILL TIE ME?
   
Author: Duo Zetak
   
Poem:
IF I WASNT A KNOT, COULD YOU STILL TIE ME?
   
  feels like the storm is coming
old has a different connotation
for those in danger of aging
wasting away
the longer the wait
the longer the days
the more time spent taking your time
coherent to a type
a tape recording
of the last epiphany you had
about how life is a monster
a beast without a plan
that eyes see the colors of life
like hands feel pain
like heads turn in surprise
and chests pound like drums
letting war ring out loud
persecuting the ear with hype
as if fighting was a celebration
for human life
or danger was life's only breath
taking on death
with a voice like a mute
screaming
as we age
excuse
and blame
our sins on fame
fortune and faith
our lives are running short
like candles in the wind
or a sleepers song
singing
let war ring out loud
like time had a say
let death come
and take us all away
let war ring out loud
like time had a say
let death come
and take us all away
praying our tears will be heard
crying our prayers will be wiped away
time tells us all
were only here to stay
as long as we have enough blood to pay
so lets drench these fields in life's name
the sacrifice to live, is the cost of death
if the freedom of life is given up
the fear of death can be shed
as the weight of heaven pushes down
until you have made hell your bed
sleep and let time fly by

if life leaves you in the night

then you cant complain you're dead
   
  More Holocaust poems
 
 
Cries From the River “Nun”
   
Author: Oluseyi Akinbami
   
Poem: Cries From the River “Nun”
   

Glib giant of the river borders
The discerning ears of the ancient river goddess
Where caravans cascade to unseen voices
And hills ruminating with man as man

Acumen that captured first instruction
From river “Nun”
Before wasting garbage in corruptible form
Impaired the source of livelihood

Brother blood spill, as they with Khaki gangs rumble for rights
Profligate bands in union vexed by demons
With arms like Pirates
Subdue our river for gain profitless

Ruined face-stretching pains like coverless carpet
A reserve of the gods, purloined by strangers
Of THIS color and THAT whom THESE employ
What damage! Without rescue from poverty

Insipid insanity of blood brothers who murdered
Innocent Wiwa in the struggle
For gain he would never reap
And the Masters watching the drama, laughing us to scorn

Eroded ornamental gift from the gods
And obliterating the daily reverence for His favor
Scratching the walls for war,
With the goodliness in our manner

Leave, we pray thee, let us make sacrifices to the gods
Who knows, he may be appeased
To cleanse our river of blood
Spewed by THIS, and THAT.


Indomitable spirit of brotherliness,
Speak from all nations of their ills
Where these tyrants in sleepless torture of their gin
In torment and pangs to their graves

Mingle not with suckers and rippers of our land
Despise their dromedaries and honor not the rogues.
Treat a thief like lepers
Banish them from homes of honor
Oust these moneybags void of dignity
Whose wealth were gains of wearied laborers,
Quarantine these gangsters and strip them forever
Let them to limbo flee and return never to shatter our joys.

Motherland, who begat these beast, heartless Jews of our Jewry?
Where are the laws of boundaries, which men regard in days of yore?
Covetous creeps from strange lands in amity with rebels to loot
And this they did, without a heart.

Odi, sons were shattered by wicked gunmen and mothers
Widowed by murderers of Aso’s “kill and go”
And fathers wailing deaths of their hopes and flower
Come and see, the bruises and scar on our backs

Tell me of our crime and bring the strong reasons
To the courts of sane men
Tell all the evils of banishments from inheritance
A cynosure of the evils of Colonial lords by “countrymen”

In that grave, at the river bank, chivalrous blood brothers sleep
A monument for seared conscience.
Nostalgia greets visitors at the bank of river “Nun”
Here, we sleep awake and wake asleep, watching invasions of thieves

Malady too hard to swallow, stinking sores on their honor
Oozes of gas abhorred by the buds of our tastes.
Lingers long and lingering still,
Where are the just of earth, and men of dignity?


Ecstasies will end and joys are but temporal,
Gather gold like dusts, they will watch you buried in shame
And the silver like heaps will turn to dross,
Diamond and brass will rot, but men of integrity will glow.

Oh that this hideous scourge would cease,
Our mothers still in rags adorn, sea creatures are gone,
And the fishermen estranged from their love
They die before our eyes, which suck the breast.

Karma, kindle just retribution to the destroyers
Herdsmen who from their thrones dictates our judgment,
For the innocent NINE whose body they mutilated
With cords of criminals, like lambs for sacrifice

And death, must once more summons
The most boisterous like him
Desired to become a HERO, lived a NERO, and Died a ZERO
So shall all, who masked in darkness to pervert justice

Restore, restore says the god, but heedless they go
And these Shell wearing a Chevron in amity with looters of our land
Removing landmarks and that none permitted
Go, enough is the evil, go and loot cassava in the west and rocks in the north.

Abomination beyond comprehension,
Destructions like never heard,
The south side emptied and mourners are many
On the west end side of our “Negritude”


Dedicated to the Poet Gabriel Imomotime Okara

 
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