Insurgency Poems

The Lost

Those we lost to the night,  
Gone before the sunrise,  
Summoned by the unseen,  
Taken to the beyond.  

Those who have lost to time,  
Worn down by its passage,  
Sometimes sit on the porch, basking in the daylight.  
Time stops for them as they journey to the beyond.  

Those we have lost to conflict,  
The warmonger’s toolbox is filled with devices and schemes.  
Conflicting emotions surge within us;  
There’s a falling away,
An evil that stubbornly persists.  

Those we have lost to brutality,  
Carried away by insurgency,  
A matter of urgency;  
Though some returned,  
They were haunted by torturous trauma.  

Those we have lost to rebellion,  
Who journeyed into the meadow of darkness,  
Sailed into the heart of a turbulent sea,  
Cloaked by the desert of time.


August 9, 2025.

india talking to ourselves

sky has no limit
earth has limits
overseas India-centric radicals' insurgency
one dragon, dragon's Asia, dragon's world
amidst global wars,is India occupation country spirit? world spirit?
will there be cross border aggression or war within country?
wear your soldier hat
be war ready
fulfill the call of duty for which you arrived

SEVEN THOUSAND ISLANDS

SEVEN THOUSAND ISLANDS

Some five hundred miles East of Vietnam
The Phillipines is a multi-island archipelago
Named in honour of King Phillip of Castile
It was Spain’s mid sixteenth century deal
But colonisation and ownership a farrago
Won by Spain but then lost to Uncle Sam

Conquered by Japan in Second World War
Won Back by US but became independent
Restoring a Filipino focus with some urgency
And fighting regular communist insurgency
In mid 60’s, Marcos was elected president
After economic growth, he changed the law

Since he escaped the country in disgrace
It’s been ups and downs in the economy
Marcos’ son, Bongbong, recently elected
By Covid, all has been severely affected
Yet few challenge the nation’s autonomy
And as for its future, just watch this space

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

When the Presidency Was a Travesty

Our country's history
Soured by a presidency
For thee I mourn.
Land where so many died
Because of foolish pride
Trump's faults I must deride
With words of scorn.

Stripped of our liberty
Mocked as a travesty,
For thee I weep.
Tears fell across the land
Four years in his command,
Democracy was banned.
Mayhem ran deep.

Covid germs filled the air
"Drink bleach," he did declare.
Then sent a throng.
Treason... insurgency
With frantic urgency.
Hostile convergency.
His crime was wrong. 

Our country, strong once more
High will your banner soar
From sea to sea.
Your wounds will then be healed.
When Trump's deeds are revealed
Songs across plains and field
We'll sing with glee.

If

If Black is beauty
We should have the fury
Ready to bless the scary 
And chase away the treason treasury 
To stand all a one unity

If Africa is great
That all true records she ever chest
Are ours; should it be colligate?
A snatch cum valid blood attest
Or be the genuine far away debate
 
If Man is a true clan
Will he submit to condone
And stand in place for his fan
To watch destruction under his pan 
While taking refuge off plan
 
If Woman is a weak vessel 
Should she be overlooked actionable
Clinch to addle 
While we claim no boss; continue to saddle
For all the pleasure pleasing nestle 

If nothing is to be counted upon
Men will make no peace of anyone 
And find only hell a daemon 
But somethings are to count on
Yet killings are all of fun 

If the aftermath results war
Nigeria becomes what we saw
Eating up the law
Burning in insurgency and hatred raw
Have we more to abhor?

On the Run

Nigerians are on the run
Refugees in search of Asylum 
No more sweetness in their fatherland
Their dreams have crumbled 

The giant of Africa is in shambles
With hope of her youth buried under the rubbles of
Man made insurgency
Banditry and insane killings

Evil holds sway everywhere 
While goodness scamper to safety 
Succor for the needy 
Has been looted by the greedy 

Kidnapping has been legalized
As perpetrators haggle ransom 
With constituted authorities 
Like in the open market 
While security forces stand aloof 
Awaiting their share of the pie
Armaggeddon is surely here

At Crossroads

Nigeria my Country 
Assailed,buffeted and violated
By evils of unimaginable proportions 
Lies prostrate at the crossroads 

Insurgency an anathema in our country   
Has torn to shreds Our territorial integrity 
Banditry and kidnapping like cancer
Are gnawing at our very existence 

Human lives are more devalued 
Than  our cursed currency 
Nothing looks strange any more
Nothing is certain any more 
The Shepherd has lost control 
And the flock scattered
In all directions 

Don’t cry my beloved country 
Cause help is on the way
Beyond these challenges 
Nigeria looks beautiful 
But woe betide every Partaker 
In this national calamity!

Cold War Clientele - Benguet Province, August, 1978

My thumbs pressed on the trigger.
The M-2 bucked its load.
I squinted down the barrel
And watched his head explode.
An early morning ambush,
A steaming Luzon hell,
For Ferdi and Imelda,
Our Cold War clientele.

The mission was generic:
Suppress the NPA*. 			
It didn't really matter
Just who got in the way.
I carried out my orders
And did what I was told,
But Christ, the kid I wasted
Was only twelve years old.        

*New People’s Army – a Maoist insurgency

Let Nigeria Indignantly Confront Her Biggest Problem

Let Nigeria indignantly confront her biggest problem,
Before it turns her scandalous emblem;
Back to life nurse her quitting economy;
Long ceased to be relevant to her agronomy
More appearances make in the world cup
To with the greats sup
And in mind keep that a failure to Togo
Will mean “No where to go”…

Also, Nigeria should start swiveling her presiding
To promptly cripple baleful insurgency;
Into the nostrils of her laws breathe God’s commandment
That wouldn’t beg a tomorrow’s amendment
And her greatness start reasserting in Africa
To this point impress on Voice of America

My Mind and Medical Emergency

My Mind and Medical Emergency

My mind made me have a medical emergency,
To meet God was met with  a severe urgency;
On Him relied;
This, I denied;
Sinned and needed wafer than wine insurgency.

Jim Horn

Me and Ourself

I’m living inside you, but you don’t know me, 
Your faint insurgency mind beget me gradually.
Every morning you and me drinking a cup of tea
You like too much sugar, but I don’t like it totally. 
As you are getting more and more timid and weak, 
And slowly I’m getting more and more stronger. 
You didn’t face this world and became a stranger
You cried alone and wanted to remove the dark quick.
 
Your inability generated me with inseparable soul and body,
You lost your love, your hopes and saw chaos in every heart,
Deception broke your heart and made you like shoddy,
You became weaker and I was written in your chart.

You are now strong and invincible, but not alone
I’m always sitting in your beautiful heart of the salon.

Tullamore,Ireland
07/02/3015
05:15 AM.

Pride In the American Troop

They held the field, men side by side,
Their will intact, their fears subside.
They mustered in so many fields,
And held the ground, refused to yield.
At Lexington went toe to toe,
With British troops, a worthy foe.
McHenry saw our banner fly,
Against a burning brightened sky.
At Antietam, when thousands died,
They calmed themselves, fought on with pride.
On the Eastern front fought hard and well,
To rid the world of immoral hell.
The Ardennes saw fight most severe,
The troops fought, fought through their fear.
The Pacific saw men die galore,
To turn the tide at Corregidor.
At Heartbreak ridge fought through the night,
With Stand or Die their mantras might.
Khe Sahn saw men fall in droves,
When overwhelmed by local foes.
Fallujah helped the world to see,
The need to fight insurgency. 
Khandahar pit the American,
Against the dreaded Taliban.
Our troops maintained, our troops prevailed,
Against each foe our troops assailed.
And though they fought with honor deep,
The fight they fought for peace to keep.

Apostasy of a Prophet

This Casuistry is a paradox
Fallacious    feelings           repress
A Sophistry you ingress    Chemically redox
Tergiversate under scrutiny.  A misfit – an anachronism.  Elusory emotions to express
My argument a confused paralogism	Chicanery  
Fugacious Piety worships AWAITING THE FALL  
An elaborate machination Formation of 
this Cabal To unravel this conspiracy
Renegade inspiration
A
Live 
Grenade
Revolution call.
Societal crumblings
A mind poisoned by barricades
Limitations.
Cures itself
By questioning everything
Invalidity, obscurity, corruption
Topple under 
Plots of our Coterie
Political pressure
Militant insurgency
Worship the gun
Worship the steel

Guerilla tactics 
Metro
Urban
Rurally
Camouflaged pawns
Stratagem
Pieces on the board are people
Playing for real.
Didactic Leaders
And 
Pedantic parents
They’re history and experience
In perspective reveals.
Cycle of manipulative
Elite, controlling
The pariahs
Starved in appeal.

Rite of Passage

There was insurgency-
in white night.
Moon will stay to witness 

the murder
of a golden leaf.
What was the promise of a ripe
language ? The yellow thrust ?
Keeping a date with death was not all important.

There were
lots of poems to be underlined,
preened and straightened. The dirt had
accumulated. A metaphor
will remove the stains.

Any confession will
take away the mystry. Who killed
the nothing ?

Unrelenting
the apples were crashing.


Satish Verma

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