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Best Poems Written by Darlington Chukwunyere

Below are the all-time best Darlington Chukwunyere poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Darlington Chukwunyere Poem

The Success Code



Here goes the success code.
Be fit and never lose your feet
Choose your speech, keep your guard
Do not go on your knees except unto God.
Always give them your fist, 
Else you might just lose your seat.
That is my operation mode!
It is the real success code.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2018



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Pain is Rain

Pain is like rain, though painful it is yet gainful. 
For pain's sake we are abused, yet for pain's sake love is diffused. 
Pain is rain, for it touches all men free or in chains.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2017

Details | Darlington Chukwunyere Poem

A True Hero

Hail the hero who embraces troubles.
He does not make troubles.

He may be challenged by adversities.
He would rather ignore all trivialities. 

He would strive to make history.
He is willing to die for others to tell his story.

He upholds and treasures his inferiors
He upholds and pleasures his superiors.

He is the first to give, no matter the stake
He is always the last to take.

His contentment knows no bounds. 
He is the true leader, he can go for countless rounds.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2017

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Back to School

Back to school,
my mind in good mood.
My head enroot for good fruits.

Back to school,
yes I'm back for good.
Don't be a fool dear,
it's not just a virtual school of paper-books
it's a school of the mind,
a school of thinking.
Oh yes! My own school of thoughts.

Every day is schooling,
Where you are is your lecture room,
Life itself is the best teacher.

School closes when we close our eyes,
Either in sleep or in SLEEP.
Whichever way it closes,
It yet continues on the other side.
For therein, we shall learn all we had failed, while we were still at school.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2018

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I Hate To Fall in Love

I hate falling in love
For love is wicked and blind.
And weird and wild.
It gets me hypnotized.
As though I was a sheep to be sacrificed
I hate falling in love.
 
Love is full of empty promises and euphoria
It is out of sight, out of mind
I hate to fall in love
 
It is pain ridden
It is a sadist who laughs at you when you are slapped
When you are in tears, it cheers.
I hate to fall in love.
 
When you give it your heart’s brake
It gives you a heart break
It uses your enemies against you
It turns your friends against you too
It makes them worst enemies of each other
yet it teaches all to adore one another.
 
It makes you someone else
But it would blame you afterward
For love’s sake, some are condemned
While for its reason some receive awards
It makes one deny ones’ self. 

It puts one in a thousand miles
Away from smiles
It turns a hero to zero
It changes “Hi” to why? 
Please who would teach me how to love
because I hate to fall in love! 

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2017



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Pain

Pain is like rain, though painful it is yet gainful. 
For pain's sake we are abused, yet for pain's sake love is diffused. 
Pain is rain, for it touches all men free or in chains.

No pain, no gain, for nothing good comes easy. 
In pain one feels dizzy with desire, passion and frenzy.
Pain keeps both the rich and the poor busy. 

Pain is gain, it's a stain which disappears with time. 
Although not all pain is gain, 
All rain is gain and pain is rain. 

After rain comes sun, 
After dark comes dawn, 
After pain comes gain.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2017

Details | Darlington Chukwunyere Poem

I am Black and Bad

I am who I am, but some people call me black.
They don’t just call me black, they also say I’m dirty and dark
I do what others do; and I could even visit gutters in search of food
When I do so, they call me a fool..
They know me by dirty rags, and they also give me negative tags
They say I am black and bad

One thing I do know is that, forward ever I must go,
Lest I fall prey to oblivion’s blow,
Lest I retard nor be deterred 
With the saying that “I am black and bad”

Yes! It is only my skin, it is certainly not an ill.
Imagine an eternity where the sun remains still
there will be neither rainbow, snow, nor colorful dark shadows
only a static season as white and warm as the tears of grieving bedfellows
Now, imagine that everything is white without a touch of black

Yes, I am black, but my heart is surely not so dark
Black is aesthetics and pulchritude, and not mediocrity or being whack.
Black is elastic in magnitude, black is deeper than the highest altitude
My abilities are limitless, my agility goes beyond irritability 

I have endured what the sun could not
I have toured the world’s coast, sold, and bought
I have been accused of treason in cold and cuffs
I have yet enjoyed what the rest of the world have not 
I have the best times, seasons, food, wine and snuffs.

If you say I am black and bad, would you say you are white and bright?
If you hate me or want me slayed, remember only black turns white to gray.
If you do know times and seasons, that’s why there is black and white 
If you do not serve my god, don’t you say I don’t know how to pray

I need white, orange, red and yellow
I won’t say because they call me “the black bad fellow”
I would see them, ignore them, pass without saying hello
I would only justify their assertion that I am a very bad fellow

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2017

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My letter to a virgin brother

Women are like dogs, but they are not dogs.
Whatever name you call her, that name she would bare.
Should you call her a dog, don’t you expect her to act like a hare
She would certainly give you a home full of dogs.
If you call her a queen, you’ll live out your life in a palace.
If you call her a plague, you will spend the rest of your days without solace. 
If you give her a penny, she would give you back so many.
If you spare just little time for her, she will dedicate her life serving as your nanny. 

Do not forget that relationship with a Woman is an investment.
Do not treat her with resentment.
Women are like Iroko trees.
When you nurture them, they grow and shield you from bad weather and climate.
Don’t ever underestimate the power of a woman in love.
Don’t ever overestimate your hold on that woman who is in love.
There is only a thin line between Love and Hate.
Thereupon this thin line rests a horizon of oblivion like swarming bees
Thereafter primed to wipe you off her memory the very moment you cross that line.

Before you slap her, please do slap yourself first.
Before you ask her those questions she cannot answer, please ask yourself first.
Before you call her big, fat and lazy, try tying a heavy load to your stomach first.
Before you call her weak, just imagine yourself losing blood for one thousand one hundred and fifty two hours, and forty eight days continuously, first.

Your woman is like your Pet, 
Nurture it and it will grow to love, live and die with you
You must not neglect a Pet 
Nay it would either stray into better hands or die on you

Value, nurture, trust and adore your woman, your life might depend on it
Verily she may not come at you with a knife
But when you mold her into a ball of fury, she may become a very deep Pit
By then you might have reason to fear for your life.

Listen to no one else but your ears.
Listen only to your instincts and fears
Learn now that only the shoe wearer knows where it pinches most
Learn now that the battle of keeping a woman is what matters to men the most

Do not forget, he who finds a woman, finds a good thing.

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2018

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We are Oliver Twists

A street hawker in Port-Harcourt prays that God provides heavily congested traffic
A rich man in Lagos prays to avoid every congested traffic
All these people are children of God
After all, whether from the church or mosque, they both pray to the same God
At this point I would ask if God shall rob Peter to pay Paul
Are we not Oliver Twists after all?

When a girl becomes a woman, she prays to God to become a mother
When her fetus comes of age, she prays to God for safe delivery
When her baby begins to grow, she prays to God to keep her baby
When her baby is won and grown, she prays to God for grandchildren
Sometimes I wonder why a boy must become a man
Sometimes I wonder why a girl must become a mother
Sometimes I wonder why there is day and night
Sometimes I wonder why I am even asking these questions
Somehow I knew the answer when I read Oliver Twist 

When the kitchen is stuffed and the cabinet spaces not blank.
When there is excess money in the bank,
we may not find much reason to cook.
Only the rich or wealthy says life if good.
Only a hungry stomach asks for food.
Only Oliver Twist asks for more

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2018

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When Shall We See Tomorrow

History is the mirror through which we see tomorrow. 
She is the apartheid portrait and silhouette of liberty in Port Elizabeth.
In Cairo, the pyramids would show you her hidden hollows.
Through the Niger River, she led Frederik Lugard to Lagos. 
She is the archeologist's land-mark of Blood Diamonds.
You could ask the Congo’s, Angolans, Liberians, and the Ivorians,
They would tell you that Free Town was never a free town. 
Yes! Freedom is never free at all.

We were rivers of blood and forests of bones.
We were snapping twigs and broken glasses.
We were these and more, in search of a big Tomorrow.
Hurray now, the Tomorrow is here 
Maybe not so ‘big’ (correct me if I’m wrong).

'Children are the leaders of tomorrow',
a songbook we were forced to buy at school many years ago,
My father had no money, ergo, I was forced to borrow.
It was the only way I could learn and sing along with my peers, damning my ego.
Alas, the leaders of today are still yesterday-leaders’ alter-ego
Are people not born because others should be gone?
How then would the beautiful ones come
when the ugly ones are still very much in form?

When exactly shall we see this big Tomorrow?

Copyright © Darlington Chukwunyere | Year Posted 2019

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