Long Kidnappers Poems
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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.
Driving on blacktop, eyes lighting my way.
A big bright ball follows, alongside the freeway.
He’s bouncing along nonchalantly without a care.
I tried to outrun him but, he is still there!
The huge luminous ball suddenly disappears!
Sinister cumuli sneak up and quickly appear.
Intermittently he peers through their masks.
But, he could not see, giving up alas~
The kidnappers would not set him free.
The dark-hued night was sullen and broody.
Midnight passes, showing a glimmer of promise.
Shinning up above was a grand starry fortress
Slipping out timidly, brighter than ever~
The big bright ball, the nights’ dazzler!
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
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
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!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING I AM BLESSED RETURN HOME AUDI PARKED I AM QUICKLY REMINDED OF MY DESPERATE PLEAS THANK GOD I RELOCATED JUST IN TIME SECTION 8 HOUSING SAVED ME AND MY FAMILY FROM BECOMING VICTIMS OF THE STRANGE AUDI PARKED INSIDE ON THE FLOOR A DEAD WOMAN COULD THE KILLER BEEN SENT TO MURDER ME MY CHILDREN HERE WE ARE AGAIN AUDI PARKED HEART MEDICATION TAMPERED WITH ELOQUIS FIR MY AFIBRILLATION IRREGULAR HEARTBEATS ALSO HELPS WITH BLOOD CLOTS METOPROROL FIR SEVERE CHEST PAINS MY GOD I FEEL VIOLATED ABD SAD FIR MY NEIGHBOR BREAKING IN MY HOME TO TREAT A HEART PATIENT WITH TIES TO THE DEAD WOMANS PARKED AUDI IS IT CIRO THE MAFIA THE KIDNAPPERS THE THREATS RETURN I AM LIVID ANGRY HOW DARE MY NEIGHBORS ACTION BREAK IN MY HOME USING KEYS HE REKEYED OUR LOCKS AGAIN USE CAR USED GOLF CART SALEMAN USUALLY HAVE SPECIAL EQUIPMENT TO REPLACE ABD DUPLICATE LOCKS FOR MONTHS NOW EVERY TIME WE RETURN HOME ELOQUIS METOPROROL TRAMADOL KLONOPIN EVEN VIAGRA FUNNY I FEEL SAD FOR MY BURGULARS WITH HEART CONDITION OR PERHAPS AN ELDERLY PERSON WITH NO INSURANCE
Believe it or not, their ubiquitous webs
Are everywhere; they are the dictators
Who kidnap, maim, torture and kill teachers,
Poets, ordinary folks and babies in their cribs.
They rob and ransack innocent citizens,
Steal elections and after a lifetime in power,
Categorically refuse to leave the tower.
Very often, they do everything to muzzle the chickens.
Monsters are constantly in disguise,
They are well dressed, they wear uniforms,
They know how to blend and to socialize.
Monsters, at every turn, want to control the dorms,
Manipulate the data, fool the media,
Hire henchmen and spread false propaganda.
Monsters behave like manipulative magicians,
They suck the air out of the innocent bystanders,
Befriend desperate and impoverished musicians,
Surreptitiously inveigle the nosy neighbors
To exteriorize their feelings, and they spy and lie,
At every opportunity; and at every occasion,
They bury their preys alive in the dungeon.
Believe it or not, monsters are like rats,
Their appetite is insatiable; they crawl under the mats,
Bite babies, steal millions, and hide the money in overseas coffers;
They rape young boys and girls, and destroy the future of many.
The revolution was not done right ‘cause the kidnappers,
The pick pockets and their accomplices are still under the tree.
Those raccoons, those bedbugs don't go away easily.
They outlive the exterminators. These goons are really bright.
Be cautious, because they are out there day and night,
Operating at every meeting and at every party.
Believe it or not, all bad things must come to an end:
The lies, the crimes, and the arbitrary executions of the church band.
Copyright© February 2012, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry books:
As we speak,
My children and I are famished
Our fireplace is cold
Our pots are empty
It is may, but it feels like December
Our thatched roof is covered with mud
And our barns ravaged by corruption
Our ears, cranium are saturated with pledges
But we thirst for truth
As we speak,
We see blaring, blazing sun but no light
The moon, stars dangle over our head
But all we see is shadows, darkness
We have minister of power
But remain powerless
We have a labor minister but remain redundant
We have teachers but no experience
We have armed forces, no security
We have minister of defense
But remain defenseless:
Consistently and continually defaced, clobbered
By Boko Haram, kidnappers and masquerading kirkmen
As we speak,
We have rivers
But remain immutably thirsty,
Wash our dirty linen with spittle;
While we await
A prophetic proclamation
To liberate us from decades of decadence and oppression
As we speak,
We have laws but lack equity
We have brothers but no curators
We have brain but lack logic
We have power, no knowledge
As we speak,
The more we think, ponder
The less we evolve
The more we project and visualize
The less we discern
As we speak.....
Birches took a vote after the child left the forest
Next time, two wanted to capture her, to keep her always
Ninety-six others voted this was wrong.
The magical birch had a new idea.
Let me create a phantom child who will traverse the river.
She will be seen only in moonlight, and she will laugh like this one.
Her titters will uplift us, and make us joyous as the two legs sleep.
The two potential kidnappers groused, but the rest agreed to a trial.
Magical birch called on all of the nocturnal creatures for input.
Fox chose her hair. Raccoon chose her shape. Owl chose her laugh.
She was created into the water a few hours before the sun rose.
The forest woke up to her glorious laugh, and felt excited and joyful.
What shall we name her? Bee asked. She disappeared at that moment.
The sun had risen. Name who? Grasshopper asked, having missed her.
The night creatures smirked, happy she belonged to them alone.
A name was a great idea. They decided upon Diana of the Birches.
The magic birch was deemed the official Birch Maestro.
He created other creatures for the forest, propelled by this success.
If you see her reflection, please pass by without a fuss.
The forest of the night likes to think she is unseen by two legs.
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.