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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
Meeting you has turned my path
Into a golden one like
A dying flower that is being watered
I am being treated just like
A loving father treats his son
Knowledge is being shared
Your impact has no bounds
I thank my stars and our muse
I thank God for creativity
I wish you more blessings
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
Dad lived in the wild, Hunted! Just name it. Then he said, Nothing more than to hunt, The American buffaloes. That is our task!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
Mother where are you,
Can you see what is happening?
The world has gone crazy
The world has turned upside down
Men live in their heads now,
Feet barely touching the ground,
And don’t know where they’re going!
Nobody seems to know!
In the light of your leaving
I begin to understand
The world revealed in your words.
O Grand Mum,
How I weep in your absence!
I think of you every day,
Of all the sober thoughts
You harbored for my future,
But the listening ears you trained
In me still struggle
To make sense
Of a world you left too soon.
For the world does not yet hear your words
Or feel their impact as I do,
The sweetness of your pudding
Does not feed the hungry of
The earth as God might wish,
And the news of recent days
Seems to be all that you foretold
Desiring my protection.
O Great Mum
How I wish you had not
Gone so soon, that you might see
The tragedy that I see now
In our world.
We cry all day and night,
Yet it seems the great God
Has abandoned us, gone deaf...
We are in grave predicament
Though we are born to die.
As a vessel of your Holy Words
I swear to take the
Message of your love
To my generation.
I do this to pay
My great respect!
I will place your silent moan
And the groan of my own generation
On the altar of the living God.
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2016
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
The wind is blowing, Even the animal race is feeling the pinch. As the cat and the rat are caught up. The cat is worried, That the rat is no longer coming out. As the rat has taught the children, To smell the cat. So the cat is starving. Going to the bush is a problem, For the cat. For he fears the cold and trap! The rat is worried that madam is not buying enough fish; Nor is there leftover anymore, For man, Now eats the flesh and the bones. For the rat there should be no risk, When there is no guarantee of the economy. So the race continues!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
Peter and Paul, two of a kind,
Lived across town. Friendship calm,
Cool and calculating. Warm and hot!
Heaven knows no better. As they lived
To chase beautiful skins, Jane and Janet came,
Two of a broth, lovingly cool and charming! Each
Had the responsibility, of taking care of two awesome
Species of mankind. Many times they have shared God’s
Innermost secret in the open. No fuss, no qualms.
I think, it is so!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
There is confusion in the lands. Hunger, starvation, fears! Hearts melting, For dictionary bears no definition. Yet for those of us,Who live in the heart, Signs of all the good things to come. Old page needs closing, For the new to begin!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
The giants in the lanky tribes, Abandoned their masters, Their overlords in the Isle. And chose the land of peace And freedom for benefactor. We in our lands approached America, our dream land. And saluted their flag. We thought that America would understand. In our culture, A friend does not need To tell his friend that he is hungry. A friend sees the hunger in your face And does something. Yet, it is not late. We the children now say not like our fathers, That we stand with America. Now we hope they should understand!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
I saw an old man, On the dusty road, Of life . Dried, parched and tormented! An old man, dried parched, and tormented. Tried and tired! An old man traversing time and bounds, Yet it does not seem, How far in going! The journey seems un-end! There he goes, Trudging along parched soil, Listening for a soul to catch. Yet none cares for his wares. He goes on putting head down, For the people. Lifting Loads! None brought him home, For a quench of thirst, And fight stomach anguish! Now, in trepidation, He lay stretch on the trunk, Of a fallen pear tree, In ugly soliloquy, As passers- by hurried past! Now, a darling soul in her pilgrim, Brought fresh corn and water, First of a kind, And asked after his name and occupation. The old man fully assured, Surrender and thank his stars!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2016
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
16th day of December shall
Ever be remembered, For it
Represents light, Born about
Two and half decades. The shining
Light of its generation. May God
Be praised. For making it possible,
For lifting me high ,For meeting the
Right people at the right time. I thank
God for creativity!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2015
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Sunday Igwebuike Poem
Down the road in ages past, Visited by a people, Across the mighty waters. Clutching the big book and sword! All etching for the souls of our people. The sword killed my people. The book said, "Thou shall not kill." My people could not understand. They took some away, Weeping bare as they went, To accustom strange culture!
Men gave up on the way, Oh! my ancestors are crying, Bring back my children. And again, for the oracle, They told us to pack. The oracle that tells us, The truth. My talking oracle gone? No! For the oracle is the soul of a nation. Oh! My ancestors are crying. Bring back, bring back!
Copyright © Sunday Igwebuike | Year Posted 2016
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