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Best Poems Written by Stephen Aniobi

Below are the all-time best Stephen Aniobi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Road To Exile: Boko Haram

Road to exile.

Boko Haram immigrants of hell,

nurtured to torture,

Bomb-tore people like vulture.

 

We all scared for our own fear,

Death,

that makes us all victim.

Just for a much smaller group or network.

 

It bothers me, in my inner mind,

how heartless a human can be,

heart more harder than the wildest beast.

who just turned devourer, for religion and illiteracy.

 

It bothers me less, knowing the time we are in,

The ruthless time of age,

the era John, reviled,

For only those who stand strong will be full of ecstatic.

 

They claim to be ignorant of Boko,

yet they made use of it,

They path this way, for all these Cock and Bull story.

Regardless of, we will exonerate.

 

Our faith in Christ Jesus will grow stronger,

For the Conqueror Peaceful Lamb,

Will slay the Perpetrators, with His rod.

Only then will the Crying Soul Rest.

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You Remind Me of Her

You remind me of her smiles,

The white of teeth of hers,

The sun in her eyes,

The sweetness in her tongue,

 

You remind me of her face,

How beautiful they are,

Men die just to see it,

The war of love, her face ones caused,

 

You remind me of her body shape,

Her body of all eternal virtue,

The ebony in her milky skin,

The figure eight body type,

 

You remind me of her caresses,

The gentle touches of hers,

The French kisses she rained for me,

The love we made at sunset,

 

You remind me of her dreams of us,

That the moon, sun, rain and you to serve as our love witness,

That undieable love dead,

The tears in my eyes now red for you.

 

 You remind me of our last minutes together,

Our journey down the east,

The promises I made, of love eternal,

Now she is long way down gone.

 

You remind me of her two faces,

The dangers in her eyes,

The evil of falling in love,

But, for you I will swim at the depth of love.

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Cry Me a River

Cry me a river,

And let the divers wait,

I can’t wait any more, for failing liver,

This might end up with regret,

 

Cry me a river, rich boy,

And let the poor girl sleep,

Spread wide your mouth for oil,

And force yourself for her dead lip,

 

Cry me a river,

And let death be the winner,

Fighting it will only give you fever,

Asking questions makes you a sinner,

 

Cry me a river, rich boy,

And let go of your entourage,

You bit yourself up; I don’t want to be a foil,

You have to grow up and have courage.

 

Cry me a river,

And let the undertakers do their work,

Say farewell and shake this off your shoulder,

Shriek; until you see it’s not your fault.

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I See No Future In Tomorrow

I see no future in tomorrow,
For the war coming,
The soldiers are ready for feud,
Just waiting for a trumpet sounds.

Following the illuminating light from the west,
And the Egyptian pyramid,
Spying,
Watching over all.

Here we stood,
Ignorant,
Depending on the enlightened,
Who blindfold's us?

We are scared to say,
But we know they hunt,
They are the oligarchy, 
The emissaries of cleft.

They’re mechanics of war.
They besiege by night,
Clamouring,
Blood bathing,
Making demonic symbols,
Singing the songs of the Egyptian Mummies.

The death of millions of heads,
Give birth to crude oil,
Crudely they all smile in pity.
They forgot God never sleeps, 
We will rejuvenate.
By the end of the war,
And God will Judge.

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Rapture

Up above the filmament,

Appeared a cloud of racing horse,

Like a plague of locust,

Stunting down and down in stallion.

 

As the trampling sounds of trumpet sounds,

The winds calls for the saints,

The seas and lands vomited there held beings,

As death gave up it throne of power.

 

Behold; His second coming,

Behold; the New Jerusalem,

From above the whispering voice of paradise

Sainted saints shouts, alleluiah amen.

 

Tribulations and threats on the dark sheep,

Scared and sweating like Christmas goat,

Torments of the Anti-Christ to the dark sheep,

Who choose to pay with their dark blood.

 

Returning from the other side of the world,

Is it a nightmare? Or a revelation?

Could it be rapture? Will it take place from now?

Hence I ran to the cross for protection.

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The Holy Terrorist

Dreadful dreams in days of darkness,
Mysterious light of sorrow and sadness, 
Heat from hell, hunts my heart,
As terrorist terrorize the territory.

Anini; terror in broad day light,
Praised, 
Preferred by the perishing poor,
The rich’s notorious enemy friend,
Echoing songs of the victorious victims.

Currency filtered like a withered leave in the forest,
On streets,
Everlasting prayer of a dying soul,
Anini; as the living memory lies.

Black men’s blood,
Painted round the four territorial walls,
Anini; ‘heaven-hell’ cries for you,
The cry covered by the pregnant cloud,
Anini; your remains is buried in the heart of the poor,
Picaroon of our honored past.

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Who Will Dry My Tears

WHO WILL DRY MY TEARS

I.
Farewell to the father,
Rolling up our long days dream,
This is the road u always pass through in April,
Thou has ever, always returning successfully,
Out looking for those greener pastures,
Thy abundant descendant to feed,
Will that be a crash cruise?
What has happened to thy spinal cord?

II.
Cry not but my lingering tears drops,
Like a water fall,
Is this the end of the road?
The road thou promise to take me,
Sticking to your song of praise for hope,
Pouring praises to His foot in your state,
To have your soul & thy faith like a rock,
Until the third survival of night fall,
I stood head up to watch his majestic exit,
Oh death has caused me greater harm,
It has broken the branch on which I perch.

III.
Thou have posed thy duty for me,
This song we sang to pass over our sorrowful joy,
To thou, I swear I be no prodigal,
As the has chosen to make merry,
Of thy sweat in grave,
My quest for knowledge lying in waste,
Who will send me to the fountain of knowledge?
As thou promise me of this,
This cross, I will carry for you,
Who will dry my tears?
As death as hindered your journey.
Weep not, rest and sleep,
Till His second arrival,
And there with Him we will live forever,
And death will part us no more.

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Cry of Sorrow

Too late to cry and mourn yourself,
Bitter sweet the result of eternity,
Departure of no return, evaluating sorrow,
The wide road to destruction I took,

My cry ran through crescendo and beyond,
The stamp of eternal sacrilege placed
Struggling to secede the wrath, is unimplicable
The ocean of fire ran to taste my blood.

Lamentation on the dark faces of the inmates,
I see myself like a rich man, begging for a hand deep of water,
Tasty for restoration for millions of century,
Reminiscence brought memories, but all chances lost.

My worst enemy now my accomplice,
I ran from Canaan to Babylon,
If again chances is given, I will live without guilt,
Though the holiness of men is beyond His foot,

How better is the truth I rejected for pride?
Pride is a serpent causing destruction,
The winds hear me; take this message to my brothers,
For the result of pride is unimaginably not imagined.

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Love

Love chills jealously,
Staring at red roses,
In the wake of a bright full moon.
It’s like Babylonian apple fruit,
Undeniable.
Love is a battle never won by the mighty,
Steady but slacking,
Readily proned for suiciders.
Love is of pure madness,
Make fool of us 
Driving lots to grave.
Love is an unexplainable feeling,
Of which titanic felt,
And left Verona crying.
Love is for the kind hearted,
Made special to St. Valentine,
Love is for a day like this, 
Love is for everyday,
Love is for every head.
Love is lover, love.

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Lost Glory

Enoh Elise, wise fool,
Silly and stupid,
Drunk and tattered,
Mockery melody sung in sight,
‘Fool at forty four, fool forever’.

Addicted to liquor, smokes and snuff,
Lazy hardworking man,
Enoh, if I remember,
Days, dark men fought to buy freedom.

When men were born lions,
Your amour of glory flies,
Your might drove men to war,
Enoh you saw and conquered.

You fought like and angered lion,
Lifted above shoulders,
Enoh Elise, son of Odoni,
The mighty warrior, feared for fight.

Those days you return from war,
With skulls,
And drink from it,
You danced with the gods.
 
What happened to those days?
Enoh Elise your glory is gone like the old unwise Saul,
Mocked by your enemies,
Enoh, the god’s are angry with you.

Who will take us to the war?
Who will fight the warriors of Amaku?
Nor, will grass grow in your father’s land?
Ammadioha, will never give you peace.