Best Kidnappers Poems
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Bandits Boko Haram, notorious religious discriminators
Organized by the so called defenders of Allah,
Killing and maltreating of human beings and
Opposing to modern civilization and human rights
Hell and the burning fire shall be your dwelling, for
All shall be judged by the Almighty God;
Rapists and kidnappers without faith and honor
Aboubakar Shekau and his infidel notorious gang,
May Allah pardon them for their unpardonable sins.
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Her eyes leak and her mouth sobs
Her heart beats to the rhythm of the drums
Her leg shivers and her hands weak
On the actuality that a cankerworm has eaten deep
What an absolute notion of melancholy
A disgrace to the race of humanity
An avalanche of great pain
On the WORLD it pierces with dismay
Man kidnaps man, woman kidnaps woman
Blood against blood, funeral upon funeral
A nightmare, a scarecrow to one
What a breath taken downfall of man
Armed forces, wake up from your sleeping slumber
Humans remember that the other's your brother
Fight this maestro of maudlin deformity
And resurrect freedom to National unity
This is the CRY against KIDNAPPING
:: This poem was recited by me for the book launch of THE KIDNAPPERS written by Dr Nathaniel
He said he was on quite a spree.
I asked what his next crime would be.
I meant it in jest,
As you’ve probably guessed,
But he took me literally.
Kick against indiscipline; they say,
But they kick against our income;
Kick against the youth's progress,
Kick against the future of our futures,
Kick against the heart that tend good
Rather than kicking against indiscipline.
We still have prostitutes in our streets,
We still have drunkards languishing
Right in the gutters of our streets;
We still have gamblers right beside my nose,
We still have armed robbers parading
And hurting people with their guns and nobody
Is kicking against them in their operations.
What are they kicking against here?
What are they made to kick against there?
We still have boys that have their trousers
Put on their waists, and their pants showing.
We still have fraudsters in their cyber world,
We still have 'YAHOO' boys and girls;
A foregone culture that needs a re-visit.
The gods of our land still weep for a
Change of identities by their children.
Once a glorious country has turned into a dump
Of great nuisance from the animal kingdom.
They Kick against indiscipline but they don't
kick against their pockets that are full of
money which where exploited from us.
They arrest every youth on the street selling,
And jobs are never seen for them to do.
We still have kidnappers right on our doors,
We still have corrupt leaders barking behind,
We still have ritualists with their ego so high;
Are we not in the end time?
Who is deceiving who here in the country?
Men still beat their wives, and, children
Still insult their parents without looking back.
Our education is dead of cultism and cheating,
Sex trade and child abuse are still rampard here,
What are you kicking against, yourself?
Marital problems still blind many of us,
Churches still burn their members and
Some are deceived to perish in hell.
What are you kicking against, friend?
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
All Right Reserved 2016
Justice howls like barking dogs chasing down the hollow street
Justice flows the same way blood gushes down his trembling feet
Justice echoes blatantly through woodlands and valleys
Ringing upon roof tops progressing door to door
And crying out loud.
Justice weeps for innocent children
Children who have been robbed of their dazzling youth
Children whose lives have been taken too soon.
Justice sings a solemn tune, a tune without a rhythm
A tune that only the victims can sing.
Justice mourns for mothers and fathers
Mothers who have been waiting for their daughters
Waiting for their daughters to reunite but they are far out of sight.
Justice wails desperately for her suffocating son
A desperation that we all could hear
A plea for mercy as he gasps for breath.
Justice marching in the street,
Marching from east to west
Marching from north to south.
Justice uncovering lies and rumors
Stripping them of their abusive power
and exposing cruel, mean-spirited perpetrators.
Justice pounds on the door of the city
A city whose inhabitants are cold as charity
Exchanging popsicles for ice
And eluding justice in broad daylight.
Justice blaze in the air for broken women,
Women who have been raped, murdered and abused
Women who have been openly harassed and accused
Justice beckons to the heart of the shattered city
for liberation from this awful misery.
The cry for justice hammers on the door
of heartless blackmailers trading lives for a determined price
antagonizing the innocent, making sordid deals
in the community to disrupt peaceful homes and families .
The cry for justice screams at the conscience of
Barbaric kidnappers who have been destroying lives
And committing cold blood murder in the middle of the night.
The cry for Justice climbs every mountain top
The cry for Justice voyage over land and sea
Bellows in the heavens and finally made a stop.
©2014 Christine Phillips
My Story of Nigeria....
Inflation rate high
Regionalism become noxious
Life's expensive in the South
Ritualist in the East
Fraudsters in the West
Poverty in the North
My Story of the North...
Bandit and kidnappers on the highway,
No free road to ride without a raid,
Demand for ransom,
Only with currency,
People's clamored,
government worldless
Media houses turn to medium of segregation,
Social media turn to social division..
My story of North.....
Life without liberty
Sleepless nights to the masses
Gunshot gunned down my neighbor
People becomes prey without prayers
Everyday promises from the army
Solution cease from existence
My Story of North...
Attack to kidnap
Community slaughtered
Blood spill out
Many become homeless
Live lost!!
Job to jobless
Youth traveled beyond the region,
For a greener pastures...
While the region's pastures is parched...
My Story of North
Bloodshed is an everyday affairs,
Everyday Newspapers news saddened..
Attack on the masses,
Houses burn down to ashes
Mass burial in the community
Wives becomes widows
Children becomes orphans
My Story of North
Only few with a voice
Many voice become voiceless
Youth resort to drugs,
Ladies to prostitution..
Parents create hostility within...
Majority dominance, minorities impotence..
Minority tribes divided
No love but hate..
Gbomogbomo {The Kidnappers}
Most rebellious Mangroves limbs aloof
Straddle the leprous ocean swamp,
Here, no room for German bridge,
And no passage for slippery marble tarmac;
Clashes of mysterious legs on the steppping stones,
In the repulsing reeking creeks, hide pearl big guns
Aimlessly whip to drum ricocheting report;
And hailed everlasting to shatter pater-familiar
Bloody dripping flesh and blast scatter bones,
To enrich the coral rough oil soil of bunkering.
I didn’t write this poem
Because I was supposed to.
I didn’t write this poem
to talk about my feelings.
I didn’t write this poem
to talk about the world.
I didn’t write this poem
to make anyone cry
or laugh
or scream
Or have a bad dream
I didn’t write this poem
To convey a message or theme.
I didn’t write this poem
To make some rhymes
I didn’t write this poem
To waste your time
I didn’t write this poem
About punishment and crime
I didn’t write this poem
So I could philosophize.
I didn’t write this poem
To give you a history lesson
I didn’t write this poem
to make you stop and listen
I didn’t write this poem
because life sucks
because people die every second
because some of those people kill themselves
because there are at least 32 ongoing wars right now
that in the end don’t solve a problem but make more
I didn’t write this poem
Because there are people who haven't eaten in days
Just waiting for the day they collapse into their grave
There are people whose life has forever changed
While rich people sit back as their life is always the same.
I didn’t write this poem
To talk about all the good getting punished
And all the bad getting rewarded
About the rich getting richer
And the poor getting poorer
The privileged gaining privilege
And the oppressed getting oppressed
About the kids getting kidnapped
By the cruel kidnappers
Or about the dying people dying
In the hands of powerful people
Who are getting more powerful.
I didn’t write this poem
So you can go out into the world
And stand up for what’s right
I didn’t write this poem
So you could feel sympathy
or guilty
Or angry
I didn’t write this poem
To make you feel any way at all and
I especially didn’t write this poem
For you to have fun.
I didn’t write this poem
For me to have fun.
I didn’t write this poem
For people to be amazed
And to want to write poems like me
I didn’t write this poem
To win the slam
I didn’t write this poem
To be a poet in the future
I didn’t write this poem
For you to do something about it.
I didn’t write this poem
To do as little work as possible
I didn’t even write this poem
to get it over with, no,
I didn’t write this poem for any of these reasons.
I wrote this poem because
if I didn’t, no one would.
Please, free Will
I heard he has been caught
He must be important
They talk about him alot
Are they asking for a ransom
If so, then who will pay
Who are the kidnappers
That have stolen Will away
Now that they have Will
How much will Will cost
Do we have the will to pay
Or has our Will been lost
I can see the headlines
"Can you Free Willy Please"
We'll start with North America
Then campaign overseas
We will raise the money
Will will be free again
Now that he's been paid for
Can our Free Will be maintained
If we all have "Free Will" does that make us the kidnappers????
What I am supposed to do
When everything around me has gone crazy?
What am I supposed to do
When my beloved country
Chooses the path to perdition
Rather than moral rectitude?
What am I supposed to do
When millions of my compatriots happily
Wallow in criminal poverty
While insignificant few parasite on our Commonwealth
As Lords and masters of our
Collective destiny?
What am I supposed to do
When my country men
Cannot sleep with two eyes closed
As terrorists and kidnappers
Have become our eternal nemesis ?
What am I supposed to do
When a new opportunity is
On the horizon
But my compatriots prefer the status quo
Hobnobbing with their slave masters?
What I am supposed to do
When the hope for a new Nigeria
Keeps slipping through our fingers
At every election cycle?
2023 elections are around the corner
Nigerians must get it right this time
I cry and point to the right direction
So that my compatriots can follow
That is what I am supposed to do
Stand up Nigerians
Take back your country!
Torrents of thoughts torment me
Floodgate of distractions rack my soul
Avalanche of delusions
Decapitate my mental faculty
As I muse over the degeneration
That has dogged my beloved country
She manifests every aspect
Of a failed state
The giant of Africa has lost control
Of her Territory to terrorists
Bandits have re-colonized my fatherland
Kidnappers strike terror into the hearts
Of weary and hapless Nigerians
While her economy continues to
Stumble and wobble with ignominy
In the hands of oil thieves
The ancient perpetrators of
rape
Against our father land
Are shamelessly like vultures
Gathering and flying over
The carcass of the comatose nation
To gang-rape her to death
Arise fellow Nigerians and stand firm
Let us take our country back
From chaos to path of sanity
Waking up from my sleep. I step outside to check the
mail. I get a postcard of a missing child...the trend
seems to never fail.
Julie was abducted at a park. It's been a long 18 years
now. She's presumed dead, because of the fact that she
was never found.
I turn on the the TV, clicking the channels and now I'm
appalled. "Breaking news- child abducted at a busy
shopping mall!"
They found a missing child dead, "Gone too soon," is
Michael's song. You were here just yesterday, but sadly
today, you're all but gone.
To Timothy, Henry, Toby, Jermaine, Jennifer, Emily and
Shelbe. I hope you are still with us today, I will always
pray for thee.
To those we lost like Samantha, Peter, Amber, Caylee, and
Chris. So precious you all were to us and you are sadly
missed.
I shed a tear for each of you as if you were my own. How
can people hurt little kids? Tell me what the hell is going
on!!!
I stare at a playground where once a little girl played on
a swing. Someone took, raped and killed this child...please
stop this crazy thing!
In anger I speak to kidnappers, the Master said this, so I'll
repeat. "It would be better for you to have a stone around
your neck and thrown into the sea."
Whispers I am hearing as if they were from a little child. It's
her blood calling for revenge...it's starting to make sense to
me now.
Hear the whispers from their graves as we near the final hour.
The Avenger of their blood hears them and the whispers are getting
louder.
i remember when
the sky was not tainted with smoke
when the oceans were clean
and the families told jokes
i remember when
there were no worries
there were no kidnappers
when life wasn't in a hurry
i remember when
people you did not know
walked by you smiling
and saying hello
i remember when
there was no pollution
people didn't use foul language
and everyone didn't fight but created a solution
i remember when the world was a better place............
The rumbling and shovelling
Pandemonium and desecration
The killings and maiming of souls
Boko harambee, the harem of
murderers
The genie let loose, murder
incorporated,
Unlicensed to kill
It's the wild! wild!! North on
the brink!
The north overrun
The hounds on the run
The hunt only just began.
Boko haram has taken the
center stage
The grave is filling, yet it takes
more and more dead.
It's the Wild! Wild!! North on
the brink.
(Written on the 2nd May, 2015)
N.B. presently Boko haram, Killer herdsmen, bandits, kidnappers and others have overran Nigeria and overwhelming the Security forces.
Several times I have glances of a,
Past life in a time that is,
So familiar to me, just not this one.
The one thing I always remember is a,
Woman whose beauty and those,
Deep blue eyes I will never forget, ever.
It was the age of King Arthur,
Camelot and the magic of Merlin.
Then it goes away and I'm back,
Only remembering someone I use to love.
I dream of her at night only waking,
Up with tears in my eyes knowing,
I have lost her all over again.
Definitely dreading this meeting,
With my boss opening the door I see her,
Like I'm magically thrust back into the past,
Cam, Is it really you ??
She walks up to me like a dream,
She stands in front of me,
Touching my cheek she says yes I'm real,
I have searched centuries for you,
As she kisses me I hold her tight,
Never wanting to let her go,
As I hear my boss say Tell Zeus,
I'm glad I could help.
Yes Percy I certainly will.
Percy Seriously ??
Yes Queen Lauren I was protecting you,
Until they could come back for you,
Until it was safe out of Olympus.
After all King Arthur is your cousin,
He awaits your return.
The kidnappers are in the Brigg.
Queen Cam are you ready to take,
Your beloved back to Olympus.
Yes we're ready.
The kids are dying to see both their mothers.
Come on Lauren let's go home.