Compatriots Poems | Examples

I Don't See What You See

Sparrows enjoy a certain reputation
For intimacy and hope

Crosby Stills and Nash sang of them
In Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
As compatriots to the morning
Air
With guitar strums and high notes

Truth be told
Sparrows are bulkier than the normal song bird
And not particularly
Pretty
Brown and gray as a mound of dirt

Chirpy jerky punk band

And they have no problem with crowding out
From a bush or bird feeder
Finches and chick-a-dees

They’re kind of a bully

Push around those that are smaller
Who carry pouches of yellow and pink
And tiny symphonies

They clog up my eavestroughs with nests

Right now
I watch one sparrow land on top of another
And the tree branch bends down
Under their heft

Bounces up and down
To their sex
Again

The limb
Seemingly
Waving them off

Or so it tries

As if it’s saying
Get off me you animals.

The Best That I Can Be

Oft times, I truly desire with a passion
to write like my fellow poets.
In doing that, I cannot see, the beauty 
in my own, and fail to recognize it.

To create poetical magic, I have to dig 
deep into my own reality.
For with that, and that alone, comes truth,
clear as crystalline tea.

I never try to impress wiith words, I shan’t  
use in my daily life.
The words I pen, hopefully, will bring joy
sans clouds of strife.

A comedian on paper, is for witty, poet 
compatriots to be.
All I can write about is wishing humanity
awakens, as I dream by the sea!


                       9/13/2024

             @ Panagiota Romios

He Has Only Just Begun

It comes out of its chamber,
Summoned by the evening,
It stands on its podium,
A lamp for the night,
It tells us it’s time to retreat,
Rest for a while in the twilight blues,
Let go of the burdens of the day,
Tomorrow’s city doesn’t want to be overburdened.

Sometimes it stands alone,
Sometimes it is surrounded by its compatriots,
Even in the darkest of nights,
It pledges its allegiance to its Creator,
The glory of the night,
It doesn’t fight for its place,
At dawn, it goes back to its chamber,
Thankful for the opportunity to hold sway.


June 9, 2024.

HEARTLESS PATRIOTS

Once again, they horde the fuel
Tricking everyone to blame the gov't spoil.
Weeks ago, they pledged loyalty
To serve her faithfully with all might
Yet here they are, inflating prices, pocketing taxes.

They saluted the flag with pride so grand
But in their eyes, Sierra Leone is a battlefield 
Where, like a jungle, the fittest survives
Even if leaving compatriots to die
To a grueling inferno on a highway drive.

Like a puppeteers, they toy with prices
Steal and champion every vice there is
Their loyalty to the country is a hollow shell
Where offsprings of deception dwell
Their places of worship arenas to trample the hearts of their compatriots
Treating each of us like idiots.

A heartless patriot, an empty shelf
Striving to fill up, putting country behind self.
Wretched monsters by all indication
Boasting of knowledge and the best education
But the day of reckoning looms, where truth will eclipse their deceit.

Unmoored

white balloon of pulse beats
its sluggish hops on March land
matted with half melted snow
freed from a nearby high rise balcony 
cut from its red and blue compatriots 
still hooked onto the railing
a matter of strings becoming frayed 

small white blimp
reacting to a wind that means much less to others
unsettling to think it can't find its mooring
its bustable skin
flimsy
like the shallow breath of an aged sleeper
how long before it flees to some kind of shelter

small white balloon 
soon to be picked up as litter
bouncing in its frailty
blow by blow
a swivel from side to side
and always
its sense of being   under seige

STAND UP WITH THE PROBLEMS OF MILLIONS OF AFRICANS

as some African 
young leaders 
are  standing up 
with the problems
of millions of Africans.
they know well  
about
the work they are doing ...
Africa's advocates 
who know 
the consequences 
of the dangerous tasks 
which they are  choosing ...
Just  to help their compatriots. 
they can be wiping out  
silently
at any moment 
by the  problems 
makers. 
Young leaders who saw 
the struggles, 
Struggling to convince 
some folks 
Who ignored
their struggles 
for centuries. 
But 
Africa will rise 
Africa will rise up 
Africa will rise and 
shine the whole World.

From Every Patriots Grave

From the patriots grave there comes a disturbance
a sound so faint it is distant less. It floats in on the wings of absurdity.

It defies the continuity of human expiration, upending the status quo
and invading the promised tranquility of the patriot's rest.

The sound stirs forever sleeping neighbors, displeasing compatriots
who had, as fated, come to peace with nonexistence.

Old threats, assumed battlefield defeated, are revived in the incoherent
oratory of an amoral man's quest for unrepressed power.

The sound he summons is autocracy rising, growing louder, 
and not that far away. Pomposity begets confusion, discord follows.

Was this not the screamed rhetoric of long ago? Incendiary promises to
make their country great again. Instead, oratory that set it afire.

The fires, so long ago, dead heroes died to extinguish. New tyranny disturbs
forever slumber. Dead heroes, in graves, have no more to give.

We need new patriots to rise, to resist today's promised tyranny and quiet the hatred that hovers over America and the graves of heroes. All deserve peace.

Black Mercy

We all know the day,
Which we came to fay;
We all remember the day,
Which the black and white were faraway;
We all mark the day,
Which our power became black not grey.

So horrible,
That we were so gullible;
Why is our case always like moth,
That fly into a flame?
Why are we always victims
of 'Black Mercy'?

The Journey of years
Get worse in sneers;
In the beginning, 
We rose a compatriots
But a little trick from them—
We became children
That chase after butterfly,
Not considering a pit ahead.

When will we be out of our predicament?
When is our self-slavery ending?
We pledge all days, all nights,
But the nation has failed us,
All days, all nights 
We always cry to remember
The freedom as a slavery 
Which is a 'Black Mercy'

A Poet Needs Compatriots

There is magic in life, but you must let go of anyone,out to destroy your soul.
Of these there are a plethora. 
Are they descendants of Sodom and Gemmorah ?

These poets…simply cannot let you joyfully be!
Unless, your ideas match theirs in tandem, in modern poetry, do you see?
Dare you be different, they turn against you, indeed, hastily!

So, you must find other writers of sterling integrity.
If not, you are cursed to ever be a nothing poet.
Sadly doomed, to their odes to mediocrity!    

                          7/25/2023

Through the Eyes of Love

The eyes of love are the eyes of God
The eyes of love do not see evil
The eyes of love see the good in others
The eyes of love see those in need
And respond accordingly 
The eyes of love do not hate
For he who hates his brother is  a murderer
And remains under the power of death
Cause a murderer has no
Eternal life in him
Christ gave his life for us
And so we need to give our love to our brothers
For true love shows itself in action 
Respond to your brothers 
Respond to your sisters
Respond to your neighbours
Respond to your compatriots 
Respond to the whole world
Through the eyes of love
For God is love

A Nation On Call

Compatriots of democracy,
yet again witness a change of power,

With eyes no longer blind, 
we'd hold you accountable this time,

for revival and hope renewed,
we will stand with you

though times are perilous,
and  life a little rocky

but in this whirlwind of dust,
the people are resilient

we are first compatriots of democracy,
and on this windfall,

we rise and obey
the clarion call.

Making Sense of It All

Please help me in my confusion 
Come to my rescue 

Do not leave me sitting all alone
On this lonely beach of abandonment 

Help me my brothers
Help me  my compatriots

Help me you all men of good will
To make a modicum of sense

From all disconcerting confusion around me
My country has become an enigma

Difficult to fathom and rescue
From self inflicted contradictions

We were in the abyss of despondency 
We were in dire need 

To wriggle out from Economic strangulation 
Kidnapping and banditry 

General insecurity and insurgency 
Glaring leadership failure
 
And like furious flash flood 
We trooped out with hope in our hearts

With one goal in mind
To cast our votes and make a change

Particularly the youth eager
To put their trust once more

In a system bereft of any trust
And like a Gale of disappointment

Our hope came cascading down 
To the abyss of disillusionment 

And cacophony of claims and denials
And waiting for the unseen hands of destiny 

To steer her from annihilation 
To the habitual and perpetual state of  inertia

School Days Now and Today

At 60 you hope for another school reunion
of your compatriots'
After all this was your first corporate flagship
(Blazers and satchels) 
Grandparents now, some retired
What is more reticent
is some of our teachers have died
but their legend lives on
such full characters
magnificent in their valour
deserving respect
Yet Facebook the great replacer
of friends reunited
cannot illicit enough responses
for a reunion or reaching out for figurines

Nigerian Patriot In Us Detroit

Ade is a Nigerian patriot
But permanent in US’ Detroit,
There, charming Nigerian Flag hoisted,
Bared schemes upon him foisted…

Ade, The Rare Nigerian Patriot,
Scarcely planning to leave Sweet Detroit,
Shall unfailingly shoot all of them,
Giving his Giant. causeless problem:
Politicians who might risk Rigging
He’d begun their graves a-digging:
For them the cheapest US caskets,
A little costlier than Mum’s baskets;
Never to stubborn pressures relax
On compatriots evading Paid Tax…

To keep performing civic duties,
From where he had kept quaffing fruities.

What Am I Supposed To Do

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!

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