Long Waka Poems
Long Waka Poems. Below are the most popular long Waka by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Waka poems by poem length and keyword.
WANDERING PLACE GET ME WAKA
Hey, hey heyyy yeah yeah, hey, hey hey O yeah
Elevate high, high, soul high
reach komot touch skies
adrenaline get me wetin
wandering place get me waka
same space different place
i shall no bi be dismayed
placed on top a separate plate
be no on top dessert
wandering place get me waka
sweating mai crown be moist
sweet be the voice
you be mai choice
come close
wandering place get me waka
so beaming down
i waaka di town
mai head up
i hide for dem bush
mai hair needs a brush
wetin di heck
no gi me gimme dat look
need no kudi cause i get cabbage
lettuce carrot you
wandering place get me waka
same space different place
i shall no bi be dismayed
placed on top a separate plate
be no on top dessert
sweating mai crown be moist
wandering place get me waka
Elevate high, high, soul high
Reach out touch skies, adrenaline got me wetin
Pidgin English
8/18/26
by James Edward Lee Sr.2026©
WANDERING PLACE GET ME WAKA
wandering place got me moving
same space different place
I shall not be dismayed
placed on a separate plate
Be no on dessert
Sweating my crown be moist
So beaming down
I walk the town
My head up
I hide in them bush
my hair needs a brush
What the heck
Don't give me gimme that look
Need no cash cause I got cabbage
Lettuce carrot you
wandering place got me moving
same space different place
I shall not be dismayed
placed on a separate plate
Be no on dessert
Sweating my crown be moist
wandering place get me waka
English verse
8/18/26
by James Edward Lee Sr.2026©
Musical love
Our love forged on the Mount Fuji
Dining, wining and dancing to the beats of Garbage Fuji
Many times shot were we with the film Fuji…
We sit crooning to the songs of apala
Where the drummer frenziedly beats the apala
Our dance steps perfect to the beat weren’t palapala…
And we also saw the need to sing our own juju
Stringing beats of love, people wondered we used juju
Young, old danced, fell in love – unscared of the ojuju…
We are not musically like Fela
But our love for good makes us Fela
We are nothing but jolly good fellas
Who will gleefully dance like Rockefellers…
The power of love will make you sufe
Like the days when our parents danced taka-sufe
And we near-nakedly played, hopped in turns at suwe
And innocently called all Hausas Sule…
I won’t leave you beloved – hence this waka
The song of mothers birthed from love, sang despite shouts of waka!
From neighbours, far and near, as they rock us to sleep – shaking their baka
To their own sonorous voices, with no instrument – unlike the commercial waka!
© YTC… ‘019
VOICES & CURSES AGAINST A CROOKED THRONE
Thunder fire you, Oh crooked throne,
That feasts on ?44 billion gone.
Betta Edu, Halima Shehu—names we know,
Public funds turned to private flow.4
Thunder fire you, Oh oil-soaked hand,
That hides ?500 billion from the land.
The NNPCL’s shadowed books,
While the people starve in empty nooks.8
Thunder fire you, Oh fraud of state,
Ninety-two projects abandoned to fate.
Fifteen billion lost in dust and lies,
Four hundred more never touched, though financed high.¹²
Thunder fire you, Oh weak mandate,
Born of a Constitution that twists our fate.
"On your mandate, you & your followers shall fall"
Your incompetency is printed across the wall.¹6
Votes without majority, legitimacy thin,
Yet you sit enthroned while hunger grips in.¹8
Thunder fire you, Oh blood-stained field,
Five hundred Nigerian soldier's lives unsealed.
Bandits roam Zamfara’s cold blooded night,
Sokoto soaks in fear & cries in endless fright.²²
Thunder fire you, Oh silencer’s bill,
That jails the critic, bends the will.
"Waka shege banza" echoes in the street,
And activists, except a few, fall beneath your feet.²6
Thunder fire you, as naira breaks & inflation climbs,
Poor mothers mourns & count their last few dimes.²8
Thunder fire you, Oh broken vow,
Renewed Hope is hollow now.
Twelve thousand dead, their names erased,
Ten thousand kidnapped, children displaced.³²
Thunder fire you, as you caused Plateau’s tears,
Farmers flee farms, Benue’s graves, Borno’s fears.
New terror group, Lakurawa rise, Sokoto burns,
Yet your useless promises yield no returns.³6
Thunder fire you, Oh defence in shame,
Zamfara governor Matawalle’s post, a cursed name.
The army outgunned, your people you betray,
While terror thrives and hope greatly decays.4°
And when the storm breaks, fierce and true,
The cry of the masses will thunder through.
No Aso Rock, no palace gate, no armored car,
Can hide your sad end & the shame of who you are.44
VICK MANUEL POETRY
{VMP}
Copyright ©?26th April 2026.
Endless nights unfold above,
Moo mefala ya legodimo e swantšhang lerato la rena.
Where cosmic orbits picture our love.
Ka 1948, leswiswi le la kgale le ile la ikaganya,
In 1948, this ancient darkness aligned itself,
Mola Kgoši ya Dithorobero (King of Terrors) e sa fela e nyaka go tlemaganya
While the King of Terrors still sought to bind
Moya wa rena ka lethogo la go homola—
Our spirit with a silent curse—
Fela dinaledi tša ditšhakatšhaka (fireflies) tša mollo tša tšhuma kgauswi,
Yet stars of fireflies of fire ignited nearby,
Tša phutholla go hlatlamana gare ga bošego bjo bo kasetšeng,
Unfolding sequence in the middle of the quiet night,
Ponego ya gauta e e benyang ka botse,
A golden vision shining beautifully,
Ya dipalo le ea nnete,
Mathematical and true,
E ngwetšwego wena fela.
Written for you only.
Ka boikemišetšo bjo bogolo re kgotlelela sefoka se,
With great determination we endure this challenge,
Re nyatša meriti kgahlanong le difahlego;
We defy shadows face to face;
Ga go na lehu la go straightforward le ka kobang go rata ga rena,
There is no simple death that can bend our will,
Re ipolela maemo a magodimo, re eme tšwiri.
We claim the heavenly realms, standing firm.
Gare ga lešoko le le kgodišang, seetša se thuba bodiba,
In persuasive grace, light breaks the deep,
Mme sa tsoša ditoro tše re di bolokileng—
And wakes the dreams we kept—
Moratwa waka yo motse, diphakeng tša dinaledi,
My beautiful beloved, in the spaces of the stars,
Botse bjo bo sa felego bo ka se ke ba hwa.
Eternal beauty will never die.
Form:
To the red dust of the Highveld plains and KwaZulu koppies;
Where young feet roamed and in its earth-breathe did romp
Beneath golden haze, as in an oil canvas, the sunset lay
Painting goodbye to,
The scent of those African flames
The flames in the old shanty towns, farms and braai-kos lapas
Young and old shared stories, with some mischief untold
In those rivers, I swam
And those mountains I climbed
And the oceans where I caught my first catch
A toast now–to my brus!
Though my complexion speaks olive and my tongue something strange,
The red of the dust still flows in my veins
My Ouma, my Oupa, my Granny, and Gramps
To that same dust went back,
The one I left behind.
Farewell.
…and, through the air, I went by waka,
To descend in that Cloud!
To a land of milk and honey,
With favour to plea,
A ‘shout’...
…that I may dwell now,
my breath in Yours,
and as we hongi,
a taonga between you and me
nga mihi
te tama
Black clouds writhe, winter dancing Waka Waka
tumultuous River flows where rainbow trout jump
far in distance she waved with our babe
now both are gone with orange Spring daisies
my legs become logs in this turmoil of liquid
Remembrance ~
Remembrance ~
let legs do the walking across the dried up River
where orange Spring daisies bloom nevertheless
women with babes walk slowly along its banks searching for buried Love letters
primitive trout have laid down their backbones
Waka Waka is unnecessary ~ the war is no more
Wars continue across the planet unabated
human spines under bushes or frying eggs
Love still rules the roost at varying depths
babes are both fat and starving
daisies but for one day orange and white
Rivers run torrents of tears at Spring
he watches rugby team doing a Waka Waka
Remembrance ~
woven into nervous networks with dances
____________________________________
For far shires beyond the western red sun
I’m leaving the Land of the Long White Cloud -
to journey across the red and blue horizon
where cockatoos in bloodwoods sing aloud.
Tainui, that great waka in the sky -
the flight of the Koru carrying me
into the far orbits seven miles high
at altitude above the Tasman Sea.
Trading in my black singlet and swanndri
for a swag and a croc tooth akubra,
so hoo-roo Long Bay and gidday Bondi
where blokes drink Bundy Rum, not Coruba!
Thus here I am a skyrider who flew
on the wings of Tainui back to you.
And on its metallic longrider wing
I gazed the moon and stars, the setting sun.
No man has seen a more glorious thing
and for me no greater journey begun!
Leaving a world where reality bites
for the Dreamtime People’s great southern land -
among outback bushies and cork hat urbanites
in the convict Land of the Long White Sand.
Trading in my black singlet and swanndri
for a swag and a croc tooth akubra,
so hoo-roo Long Bay and gidday Bondi
where blokes drink Bundy Rum, not Coruba!
Thus here I am a skyrider who flew
on the wings of Tainui back to you.
There I was lost to love's outcast curse,
to my fits of rage and ravage of woe -
to God in Heaven and demons on Earth
till the last flight from desolation row.
Now the Sunshine Coast is the life for me
in palisades and canals by the sea.
Written: July 1997