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Best Poems Written by Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka

Below are the all-time best Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka Poem

In My Father's Land

I hate it although that's my side story. 
The breaking of the chains
The knitting of myself on the ground
The subjection to the crucibles of questions:
Of what reason should my going be?

Oh my good home!
The love of my homeland
The love of my brothers and sisters
The friendship shared with people of my homeland
This becomes my response in the land of aliens.

Love felt and sustained
In my heart there is joy at the thought of my home 
Moved with tears if denied to come home
In vain do I live outside the city happiness
A place of rest
The company of the abandoned.
Oh my good home.

Details | Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka Poem

The Oppresor

You frightening firmly plaza
The city well known threatening monster 
The known high cost selling plaza 
The cry of the poor masses,

You subject them to wear tartared clothes,
To eat, on rainy morning you will see them peasant,
Drenched in their robes, with hoe fitted on their shoulders,
On the scorching sunny day they worked for you, yet no reward they get, 

You are the Leviathan, the beast
You come like in human clothing still a monster,
You make still-born promises, to deceive and delude,
You take what does not belong to you, 

You play injustice and calls it justice,
You trick the people to believe that you are for then,
You the taker of the voiceless joy
The misery of the people 

The persecutor of the nation 
 The bad government of our state 
When we remember you our hearts flee to exile 
The chaos, the turmoil and violence of our provinces, 

Tell me!
When will we wear sleeves? 
When shall we sleep and wake up in peace? 
What have we done to you?

Details | Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka Poem

Nigeria At 60, Sixty For Nothing

Nigeria ???? is sixty this is her history,
1960 was her glory and victory, 
When she was freed from being a colony,
Let's now see her story.


She is the Giant of Africa,
But in her is full of massacre,
For her rulers are the British in replica,
We are not free so freedom is not our cantata.


Freedom of speech is at its Waterloo,
While employment is at its very low.


Sixty years is not 60 days.


We should be sons and not a maid,
As we serve our fatherland we may reap our gain,
So free us from our pain,
Do not be our lade or bane,
Rather show us the way,
That your leaders may not sway,
from the role which they are to play,
Unite us and do not drive us all away,



All these and many more we do pray.

Details | Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka Poem

Dear Fashion

The day I saw you, I was made to understand that I am naive,
My long gown with a hair tie that looks like that of Magdalena I was wearing was said to be archaic,
Come out from the dark I heard like a Pentecostal pastor talking to a catholic Christian, 

I wanted to stop being a Jew-man,
I needed them to stop calling me John,
I left my gown for a miniskirt, oh this is my first time,
The curve of my hip showed and they said she is hot ??,
To make me a hot girl I have to put on a top shirt that shows my breasts,
Or a spaghetti hand,
This is the first time I feel belonged,

Each year comes different package,
We have seen trousers which looks like an old okirika, tartared from the leg down,
This is how you made us look like mad people,
Oh you fashion, styling us into hell, 

To the boys, you made them half naked, when they try to sag their trousers,
You brought leggings trousers that made us carry waterproof or lather like a woman selling grandnut in other wear you off, 

You have caused that some of our girls are raped,
You have made many great men of God to be seduced,
You have made us see what should be protected,
Nothing is no longer covered under the sun, everything lies bare,

Tell us what you are turning us into? 
What is the next of your styles?
I know one day you will make us go naked ??in your name, 
But please allow me to pass out from this phase before you carry out your next notch.

Details | Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka Poem

The End

(Old age will teach you)

My cup is filled to the brim 
let me pour down for I do not know what life will bring 
I never had a futuristic dream,
I knew only now let tomorrow perish,

I am old, I now reap what I sowed 
For my young blood days are what I sold;
To what I thought is to enjoy,
And for me among my peers to be enrolled,
For a jew-man not to be my name.
This is where my misery began.

I never listened to the old,
I will tell them that their days are old,
But later to realize that I am cursed, 
For not have heeded to my cause 

I thought I was strong for me to take the opium,
This is my end even my cloth is stronger than my man,
The best teacher is old age,
Then you will gnash your teeth to if I had known,
Even the gods will laugh at you.

      """"""**** It is the end****"""""

If this is true then I will make my future to meet my end,
That the end will be my earn,
That my earn will be my solace,
My solace shall solve my needs. 

©Abonyi Hyginus Ebuka