Turbans Poems | Examples

Sardauna of Sokoto

The Sardauna, the prince
 Champion of the masses
 The leader of the North
 The defender of the realm
 Princely yet accessible

 The Prince Royal
 The north your realm
 Though tribe and tongues duffer
 You still make the difference 

 Portrayed as a northern zealot
 Of the scion of Usman Dan Fodiyo
 Royal turbans in purple array
 A great thinker and visionary
 
 Achievements so colossal and huge
 Colloquial rantings so high yet can't 
 be denied
 Institutions still blazing the trail
 Posterity have seen your travails 
The Sardauna, the Northern Prince

 Decades have come and gone
 None in the northern realm holds your sway
 Selflessness your true identity
 Legacies intact, history made
 Posterity the true judge
 None have your charisma
 Nor your impeccable persona
 Those that took after you have all 
 gone astray
 Going after the god of mammon

 They are all pretenders
 To the crown of your realm
 With trending events these past decades
 There is none in the realm that holds your 
 sway.
 The Sardauna the Northern Prince

Snake Charmers

When the snake charmers walk along the lanes,
The excited kids follow them in chains.
Holding their snakes in round baskets and pots,
The charmers search for the suitable spots.

Wear specific attire for they have flair, 
Grow handlebar moustache, long curly hair; 
Keep hoop earrings, zari turbans on heads; 
Put blobs on foreheads; hung bead chains with threads.

Sitting cross-legged in front of those pots,
Grabbing our attention, untie the knots. 
Carry their flutes made of dried bottle gourds,
Play their music notes, expecting rewards.

The serpent rises from with its hood up; 
They move knees to the snake; a right set up.
It sways hood and makes hissing as if charmed,
Charmers too believe the same and affirmed.   .   

How do the charmers run the show freely?
Are they not afraid of them really?
The backdrop secret is ignored and skipped
The poor serpent’s fangs are almost ripped.


A STRAND (1066) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 04-02-2022

Placed : 1st

Priorities

As humans we are exempt from many indignities,
imagine you were a fish just waiting to be stuffed,
no place to hide, pre-determined, after you huffed and puffed,
shortened life-span, of no consequence, the classic also-ran.

Kipling said: 'To be born an Englishman is to win
one of the great lotteries in life,' an out-dated
and racist comment but ironically with an element of truth;
however, goalposts have moved - what price a black Englishman?

My nephew says: 'No problem,' until you pass through
US Immigration - don't want any grenades hidden under turbans;
the extremists say they will never stop, have already,
fools, wasting Allah-given lives just like the stuffed fish.

Yes, we know, at least the fish is eaten, they're beaten,
contributed nothing, except condemnation, 'in a black room
with white curtains,' at Mombai Station.

Kano

The hush sound of the mountains 
Such an eloquence that thrills the mind. 
Beautiful landscape terrifies the drumstick;
Groits! 
D blizzard environment, a scene to flourish the hyenas 
D still waters, fogs sent!
Such blessing I dare refuse? 

This beauty I long to hold, 
For Cleopatra never heed the call, 
The call for loins, the risk taken for it - àágùn. 
I cease to wonder what the beauty of life brings! 
Such a candour, its callousness offer 
What a myriad of history, its experiences  are! 
Its cadence, mankind lives for 
For this, I crave for? 
An endless thought. 



When thoughts precipitate, myriads of wits are birthed 
The first strand of grey, has come to rule
For being seconded by its dryness
A still scent of cold; breath
Dis terrain - beauty for all
Turbans; the beauty  I see more.

Mindful

Are you mindful of the fact that the man there in the turban 
Is not a chimpanzee?
I know this because that man is me.

If you close your eyes, you’d never guess my race. 
My nails are the color of blood and my nose has been known to run,
But Heaven knows I don’t bite.  We came to have fun.

I’m on my best behavior. Don’t you worry.
Please give me a chance. We don’t eat with our hands.
I just dropped in to savor the goods.

Learning how to speak is part of the game, but 
Could you please give me your name?
It could be Smith or Smythe. How can one know?

Let me say this: it’s a joy to be laughed at.
My name is not easy, but please do
say it right and without making faces.

We’ll stay out of your way. 
I’m not blocking the aisle.
We’ve been standing here for only a while. 

Our turbans aren’t glass,
So there’s nothing to break.
But for your sake, we’ll put them away in the car.

So long?  Good bye? 
No cause to get jumpy. Your voice grows angry.
Okay, all right. We’ll stay no longer.

As you stroll through the park
Why not see our cousins the apes? 
Wave so they’ll know we are all friends.

Spy Games- Starring Kim Kardashian

Are you as surprised as I to find 
That Kim Kardashian is a international spy 

But don't worry she's on the side of right 
Working this time for the good guys 

The pics that this twit tweets 
Is spinning turbans around in the Middle East 

Corrupting the minds of the men and their youth 
As they google eye over what she let's loose

Though Miss K. is not the one to blame 
It's mainly the fault of Uncle Sam 

She's just doing her civic duty 
In the posting of selfies in her birthday suity 

I've had suspensions for years believe you me 
The Kim isn't as dumb as she appears to be


I heard that Iran has accused Kim Kardashian of being a spy... 
Who knew!

Entymology

Turbans in a short hat? Never. No that's right never. It is the will of the integral self to be employed only by one's belief in flow and source is not sauce so don't raise your hat to an irate bun. Balmy bewildering belligerent buffalo. Er no not a buffalo. In fact it is the antics of a stick insect. Interrupted is not intrusive it is inspiring. Creatively calming chaps could change clams. And the big fish laughs ho ho ho. Xxxx irrigation irrigating igniting ignorance. Ha. Yes lots of hahahaha and several billion xxxxxxxxxxxxx and waltz. Good. Great isn't it. Wow. Exciting. Wonderful. Haven having heaps. Fantastic. Be not a pin be a staple. Xxxxx haha haha haha. Xxxxx unconditional x p y q with a ! And a z z z entomologist.

Myth

A myth and a fable can be found on a table. When an old man does look in an ancient book. Dragons and periodic charts do not mix. But historical inaccuracies a horse with wings can fix. Flee flee flee little mice. For that watering hole will attract bison. Heavy bodies and lots of hooves. Oh dear. It is never to be said that the honest truth of a pillar in a dome is slated with a burning bushel. But when a bushel of faith is carried by either a sea maiden or a voyaging spring queen the time for flutists,piccolo players and harpists is rife. And turbans link to dance and jump, headdresses and bangles leap in feathered and clawed unison (circling), moon painted bodies of the tribal ones wave spears, and all is a united effort. All is a unison. Globally positioned. But no monetary aim. So take a mixing bowl and create two hundred and eighty-nine deserts on ten minutes. Great. Kiss then. Good. *** horticultural horse hoeing horizontally and a big sneeze from a teacup. Fantastic so clap clap clap. Monetization Z

Corrosional Clam Creates Calm

Talismanic turbans trade togas. How great. Short grin large grin. Big beam. And now an elephant in baggy trousers dancing. Peachtree waving. Chutney calling. Tantric trade. Tanks. Till not a tailor. Traditionalists trumpeting. One six zero. And a purple patterned silk cloth. Rice dance then. Kilowatt jewels. Oooh sparkly. Good. Hahahaha green relish. Hahahaha many many many many turrets. Xxxx Adriatic sea. *** corrosional. Z

But She Did Happily Voice Her Opinion

My Sometimes Song

I once knew a poet called Rhoda Monihan, 
Who was thought always to visit the Sanhedrin, 
By her parents who said, 
That god was not dead, 
But she did happily voice her opinion! 
 




For Laura Loo's Famous Last Line contest:


But She Did Happily Voice Her Opinion! 

But she did happily voice her opinion! 
Even though she was a woman cross dresser, 
Rejected by those who were family familiar, 
And made to feel like a used can or onion. 

An atheist as well amongst Christians, 
Not slack and did not just float into atheism,  
Not apathetic to philosophy and to skepticism, 
Prepared to remark upon and criticise turbans. 

No blond hair to indicate purity and righteousness, 
No blondness to propose truth and good, 
Just black hair, normal and with no mood, 
To pacify the quick spirited, pious countess. 

What gave her the right to speak? 
Her body: her legs, arms and voice; 
Her mouth or voice said she had a choice, 
About which she was not often weak. 


1st March 2016

Mangalyaan--Voyage To Mars

_________________________
MANGALYAAN ( VOYAGE TO MARS)

_______________________
It is alright how we came.
But one cannot deny our presence.
We are in the Mars club.
found our way ahead in a bicycle!
No one helped us to be here.
It is our Vedic skills,
made way for cosmic dreams.
If you like it or not,
we made our entry silently.
We may have used a bullock cart,
a buffalo for our space ship.
Cow dung as fuel.
Does it matter?
It is not to conquer Mars.
Just to be there to do our bit.
Entire universe is a puzzling mystery.
The more we are in,
the more we entangle in the puzzle.
Depth is so deep.
Neither end is seen nor beginning.
But there is hope.
Hope in and for humanity.
Please wear your DESIGNER HATS
We wear our turbans.
Please do cartooning,
But do not mock at us in a cartoon.
It is not for mockery but for good taste.
Let us do something,
useful for humanity.
Not to make a Nuclear winter out of greed.
We chant a hymn.
a mantra that reaches beyond galaxies.
A couplet for our liberation.
Om Shanti, shanti, shanti. 
(Peace on Us, Peace on us ,Peace on us)

Fen Blow 1

The soil whiplashed by the 'nnoyed North-easter 

         into the path of 'nnoyed vehicles farmed and not,

         as the daffodils bow in submission as is their nature,

         while the clever tulips close their turbans to survive.

Free Cee Is There a Fanatic In the Attic

IS THERE A FANATIC IN THE ATTIC? 

There sat they, satisfied
satiated knowing hundreds of souls had died
there sat they midst flat bread and Allah's wine
making plans that would send shivers up my spine

missals, mortars, murder and mayhem
we, always vigilant and leery of them
a man walks into a large train station
and for this he gains whores in Heaven and fascination

face the west for that's whereupon their eyes remain
never certain if, under their turbans, there's a brain
the youthful, the elderly, the old and the new
one must consider that which a fanatic extremest will do

Mrs. Jones in America fears Mrs. Al Newasrah' Muslim son
because each one is fearful because each one has a gun
and so they face each other on an arid land each grimace a sign
because both have plans that would send shivers up my spine
    © 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

Why Its Like a Freakin College Reunion Here

MIND THE MINES

listen,~ 
I have this like conundrum, 
A choice 
and probably a problem with either one or one million complaints
And curse the portrait this universe paints
With the blood of those in turbans atop
And no matter how loud I scream the world won’t stop
Cease
Surrender
nor accept and live with people who are willing to be tender
The world has always been a world of trouble for me
And if John Doe had problems his would be doubled by me
Perhaps it’s because I seem vulnerable enough to ache from whatever the universe throws in my direction
unable to make any  correction
nor connection
And watch the hills to tumble as mountains turn to mud and clay……
Perhaps today
 © 2011.….Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~
FONDLY ~free cee!~

Landing In a You and Me Land

LANDING IN A ME AND YOU LAND

listen,~ 
I have this like conundrum, 
A choice 
and probably a problem with either one or one million complaints
And curse the portrait this universe paints
With the blood of those in turbans atop
And no matter how loud I scream the world won’t stop
Cease
Surrender
nor accept and live with people who are un-willing to let everyone be free
The world has always been a world of trouble for me
And if John Doe had problems they double for me
Perhaps it’s because I seem vulnerable enough to ache from whatever the universe throws in 
my direction
unable to make any  correction
nor connection
And watch the hills to tumble as mountains turn to mud and clay……
today
 © 2011.….Phreepoetree….~free cee!~

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