Long Herdsmen Poems
Long Herdsmen Poems. Below are the most popular long Herdsmen by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Herdsmen poems by poem length and keyword.
Blown by Atlantic wind and sail in chains
once were ragged souls like chattels branded -
from the Guinea Coast to old Port of Spain
African herdsmen on slave ships landed.
From my father’s car I saw the canefields
where slaves cut from cyan-see to cyah-see.
Where broken men of burden stooped and kneeled
my father would stop to cut cane for me.
Now broke are those fetters of time and fate
in that dark and soulless age of tyranny,
and I in old plantation, horse ranch and estate
on his fold-out walking stick seat sat his knee.
In its powerdrive push-button auto as a lad
I rode the hills and streets of old Trinidad -
in that big pale grey Plymouth Fury I swear
I saw ghosts of the mills and the ploughshare.
Written: December 2009
What if insurgency or killings last longer than necessary
What if none of the government is involved
What if it is through external influence
What if they are bound to occur
What if all Boko Haram actions are not of emissary
What if they are not been dissolved
What if it doesn't to any affluence
What if none turns a cur
What if Bandits never exist
What if more lives got lost through other means
What if the constitution don't address resolution
What if there is no room for punishment
What if Kidnapping persist
What if it can be traced to genes
What if ransom increases elocution
What if it is recognized as an ancient
What if Fulani herdsmen killings continues
What if the farmers succumb
What if the acts bring peaceful night
What if the more thanks the more trouble
What if Oil bunkering stops
What if poverty crumb
What if all Barrels are tight
What if no barrel makes rubble
If all these have been ravaging
Should we all agree
If all these have truly being
Won't it be better we rule by decree?
Old tree...
Down at the middle of the vale
Telling tales of an ancient people
And their lore
Around are hilly peaks
Silent in the disquiet below
And just a little while,
The rain will come;
Crawling and calling,
Crashing...
In torrents,
Seeking all true natures disciples
And paint the land in refreshing ink
With morning dew and a green swathe
Wild flowers don't bloom here
But I see the green just as pink,
Just as yellow and just as sweet
Its just a little closer to heaven
They will charge you a dollar
For some water or Cola
As they wait on you, in soft velvet collars
And to behold such beauty
Is not about profit
No one ever pays to get to heaven
Still...
Old tree telling tales of an ancient time
When lions roamed and roared
And herdsmen trembled for their flock
A time when there were no roads
And heaven was full mosquitoes and disease
Old tree..
It is Incredible to see famine in all the places, on earth, in heavens and underneath the earth.
Various lives in each kingdoms are crying for bailout package;
The animals , human, even the ants, are demanding for bailout;
The birds in heavens, the fishes in the sea and the dead bodies underneath the earth are not left out.
Protesting for their stolen rights to be restored and a total removal of famine.
What a world of protest and bail out we created for ourselves?
Sleeping with one eye closed and one eye opened has become new security measure.
Land and sea that supposed to yield its kinds are into serious famine.
All creatures, are now fasting as a result of famine YOU brought upon land and sea.
Homes of the poor, famine is biting harder than ever before; the ants that eats from home are starving of hunger, aquatic animals are dying, herdsmen are now eating sheep meals.
The bridge of success has been broken; replaced with struggles and hawking in the streets of all nations.
Hawking yes! Our bodies in streets under a dark blue lights, where both literates and illiterates are equal.
I am driven to famine by YOU.
Famine made me to do what you all called terrorism, kidnapping, suicide bomber that you invented and now condemned with one side of your lips.
In my famine, you employed me to destroy innocent people, properties of nations and made more monies for yourselves.
The more you drive me into famine, the more my bile is split.
Calling for famine is calling for war and calling for war is calling for more famine.
Stop political greedy war, democratic famine war in all nations will stop.
Written by
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe
Gently she stopped to enter a cab towards her destination,
And out of consciousness my heart glued to her good looking face.
In a soft voice I greeted her and in the same way she replied with no need for explanation,
This created talks between us with the expectation of graduating to the new phase.
Her beauty is more to be compare to the city of Texas,
Wisdom is her nature and understanding is her being.
To talk of her shape is like turning a wow to a daily song that has been.
Yet that never get beyond her skull to be a vashty,
Humility is her name but when you dare step her toes death is your reward.
Her reward of death is not as our herdsmen and of our government,
For the words that comes from her mouth is enough for suicide mission.
Hear my daily cries that come from a righteous heart,
To make your heart to accept me for an everlasting bliss.
Judge me not with my act or dressing for these I amended but end in vain,
Rather let your judgement be in the truthfulness of my heart.
Hear my prayers rear gem for days count on me daily,
And for my joy to have no end and in this I give you my love.
How can I explain to you,
you a poor mortal,
what a free spirit is?
Consider I have no bounds,
I go just where I fancy.
I relish moments of madness
without ill effects.
Can you see me waltzing
with a fiery tailed comet
that orbits around far off Arcturus,
in the Herdsmen constellation?
Imbibing its bright soft orange light,
enjoying its hard-to-observe buried corona?
Can you imagine me swim amongst
the spiral and elliptical galaxies?
Bask in their dense luminosity,
irrespective of their fluctuating temperatures?
I've kissed so many moons,
and frolicked with Venus,
watched in awe a cataclysmic nuclear explosion,
as some old dwarf star goes nova.
I've seen all this and more,
but rest assured, o miserable mortal,
that I yearn to be substantial like you.
For you can do so much.....
but not I,
no I can never love or be loved
like you.
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.
Marauding herdsmen, simple
in disposition,
but yet
sophisticatedly armed
straddling an AK47 as
the rod of a stockman.
The simple farmers, genial
in disposition garnished
with infectious courtesies
straddling simple tools.
It's a fight to the slaughter
not of cows so sacred
but
Of grazing rights and farmlands
Of pastures and food crops
Of the North and the South.
The sacredness of the herdsmen
and cattle.
The lowliness of the farmlands,
life
at its lowest ebb.
Impunity!, impunity!! where the
rule of law reigns supreme.
The herdsman as sacred as
Buddha.
But the farmer as droppings on
a dunghill;
to be trampled upon.
Blood and dust a mix with
derision.
Blue blood runs in the
herdsman's veins
The herdsmen reign supreme in
Nigeria.