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Best Poems Written by Zahab Menorah Etopobong

Below are the all-time best Zahab Menorah Etopobong poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

At 50

I am five,
I want all the pears and pies,
Pops, sweets and fries;
I really think this life.

I am ten,
I have learnt how to hold my pen,
Learnt what it means to tame
My throat for neighbour’s food.

I am thirteen,
I am now a teen,
I decide whether to be fat or thin,
I consume just anything.

I am eighteen,
Adulthood is minds thing,
I want the world and friends
But I discover my mirror,
Mirror tells me am adding weight
But I say its fate, it’s not too late.

I am twenty,
I am now a man
Employed, working
But I’m slow as a slug
Though not as a snail.

I am thirty-five,
Now I’ve known the reality of life
But am now addicted to pears and pies,
Pops, sweets and fries
Though I know this isn’t life.

I am forty-five,
I remember when I was ten
But my hands can’t grip my pen;
I walk to my mirror,
Mirror tells me am obese
Now I say it pains, it’s too late.

I am forty-nine,
Celebrating my birthday
In the clinic and hospital
But this time memories
Of gains will be letting go
With my life;
My riches will soon depart,
I am fat,
Obese and my health
Destroyed by food,
Pops, sweets and fries
In my fifty’s.

I am fifty
But this time
Death is knocking at my door
Telling me he is here so early
Because I was blinded
To my health all this years!!

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

South Africa 1985

I saw millions of roses
As I passed by the countryside	
All dead and laid before my eyes
Side by side.

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Ancient Glory Lost

Swords will clamp,
Rome will stand.
Shields will block,
Greece will fall.
Armageddon will burn,
Babylon will be torn.
America is in a den,
Russia looks to reign...
Korea is the lion
Ready to pounce
On all we call world power!

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Triggered Combat

He may never be the police calming every protest,
He may never be the soldier fighting unrest,
He may never be the child fighting his pain!!

But he can be a sect quoting a grail,
Believing in justice through murder,
Committing to terrorism through slaughter,
Believing in a god through blood-drinking
And poisoning his soul with hard drugs and piercing…

Combat, combat, combat,
The decision you take makes him pick up a mask!
Combat, combat, combat,
The only thing his deep soul hears resounding
As he runs into the masses blowing up everything with tied bomb strings!

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

When War Bows

And so it was that night
When the hands of time
Fell upon the shoulders of my clan!
It was like the terrains of our only source,
Of our only hope will be lost.
When we heard those heavy footsteps
Pounce beyond the walls of our city gates,
Those footsteps that left imprints
Of the hand claps of death that rings
On the deepest inside of our beings,
On the fearful outside of our skins,
On the hidden makeup of our genes
And bringing remembrance of past sins!!
Our human frame became aquiver,
Our human structure became bitter
Because that night our city gate
Became the home of death rate!

That night I saw war bow to man,
That night man accepted war and never ran!
That night the eyes of our enemies
Never blinked or gave a wink of pity—
Their hands spilled blood within the city
And so I watched them detach
My brothers head with knives,
I watched my brother kneel
With head afloat
Slowly letting go drops of blood through his eyelids!
That night I saw war bow to man,
That night man accepted war and never ran!
That night the eyes of our enemies
Never blinked or gave a wink of pity—
Their hands spilled blood within the city
And so I watched a little child being burned
With fossil fuels showered upon her skin,
I watched the little child freeze
With mouths open wide,
Lying still and slowly giving up the ghost!!

That night I saw war bow to man,
That night man accepted war and never ran!

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Black Civil War: Book 1-3

I saw a thousand guns
Numbered like the sand of the seashore
Bowing down slowly
To the half of a yellow sun
Staring at them with gestures
That spoke silent words of praise
In an unbelievable future of hope!

(Book 2)
The sunrise spoke to the confederation,
The sunset seemed to sleep in peace
Within the heart of a few future Jews
Who told tales and fables of segmented past
With presentable memories of shredded battlegrounds
To new semen’s slowly turning into men
And begged of them to transfer
This vehicle of priceless messages
To their future kind!

(Book 3)
Tankers of war labeled yellow and black
Painted pictures of a fate fair and dark,
Carried labels of a suspected authoritarianism;
Painted portraits of an undeniable militarianism!
Tankers of war labeled yellow and black
Painted pictures of a race in peace or part,
Carried labels of a suspected treason
Believed to be pinpointed by the south-south region!

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Surrender Poisons of Blindness

One day I will make Syria my home
And one day my cup of tears will be gone.
When bullets have lost wings of flight
And bombs lost zips to unzip,	
Then I’ll speak freely
To hopes and failures-
Promising them a future
When justice will reign
And young speeches become bold.

One day I will make Nigeria my home,
And one day my thumb prints will speak.

When my hand writes freely
And my pen free to dance,
Then I’ll run home
And commit my days to change,
Kneel to her feet and
Obey her sister-‘RIGHTS’.

When my breathe pours out
Without my notice
And my heart beats
Without drum sounds,
Then my shadow
Will be seen in the open
And my voice will be
The picture of what
Ears want to love and
My pen the dancer of words
They’ll all love to watch perform.

One day I will make Somalia my home,
And one day ‘medium of exchange’ will be my train.
When black-faced flies surrender poisons of blindness
And masculine mosquitoes close down the courts of death,
Then you’ll find thousands
Of my feet on sand
And millions of speeches
On which the future germinates.

One day when Africa matures,
She will be the home of the world
Where people learn to love
And study how to care for the born and unborn.

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Prisoner of War

Marching,
Foots strangling every strand of grass,
Arms breaking through the wind,
Hands changed into fists,
Eye sockets only fixed on a skull,
A barricade of unseen lines demarcates each group,
Sweat creates a path on their mundane skins
And their ‘Kaki’ sucks it up and having no hope
Of getting back to their wardrobe,
For it is heading to the battle ground
With its owner,	
To live,
To die
With him,
Whether he conquers,
Whether he suffers defeat,
Whether the innocent blood
On it is condemned to Hades or not;
Or whether it will be torn apart by bullets.
Bullets which will take its owners’ life too,
Bullets that will send him to hell,
To Hades,
To that dark auditorium
Where the commander,
The killer,
The killed 
Will remain.

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Sweet Gold

your eyes are more beautiful than sunrise,
Your tear is warmer than sunset,
Your anger is far better than illness
And your violence is safer than
the American White House.

Details | Zahab Menorah Etopobong Poem

Tomb of the Pacific

My mind is in my brain
My heart is in mind
My brain is my heart
Beating the lines i must write.
My sight is in the future,
my past is in my present
America is the shadow of my past,
Korea is the binoculars of my future
Nuclear war heads the threat
Of all humanity taking shades under my world powers.

My mind is in my brain
My heart is in mind
My brain is in my heart
As i watch my world
Being carried away to the execution ground By two nations standing head-to-head, divided by the pacific!!