Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places

Tag: Biafra

  • Opinion: Eurasia & Nagorno-Karabakh 2

    Is enough not enough? Civilian casualties In peaceful times, it is easier for the victor to reconcile with the vanquished. It’s ten days already, and I kept wondering why these two governments prefer to use force over dialogue. I regret that the Armenian political leadership failed to engage the Azeri in peace talks when they…

  • Remember me

    I remember your stories Of bombs and guns Of decimated hills and homes And broken dreams and destinies! I remember the thunder that broke backs That tore the roof off our homes And brought hardship upon babies I remember you the victor Who took our children And made them men, Men which became slaves And…

  • Muse: The Rising Sun

    When mornings come, it blankets the Earth with her mist Then the bees must search for nectar as the flowers wait,  The green and yellow hoppers stay in the sun, patient  Eating the full of the land; munching at the wheat Unconcerned, if the farmer will have enough to harvest Then the warmth of life…

  • Biafran Babies

    I heard your songs soar through the thick forests, through the fields But the wind hid the song, your voice and your face from the world You were told to keep quiet, but if the hunger won’t let you from crying out Daada will have to drop you, so that the soldiers won’t find our…

  • Muse: Morning in the rain season

    Here has become something else without much of the sun The wind takes her toil, she dances about with no care When the South forge towards the cold rainy season The queer climate of the evening is seen in the morning The mildness, softness of the wind makes all, everything cold, Even when the sun…

  • Thoughts

    Dear diary, Night falls now… The city is quiet Save from toads Out in the field And wild crickets Hiding on the walls The distinct noises Of a quarelling couple Disturb my thoughts Down on this bed, I count the days work There were strange clouds Up the clouds today There were tales in my…

  • Come this thunder, 1967

    Come this thunder When the nights glitter with explosions The resemblance of fire-cracker carnivals And as the rattling for supremacy Is heard from heartless machine guns Spewing the seeds of destruction Upon unfortunate children and men ‘Kwaa-pu kwaa-pu kwaa-pu, unu dum!’ ‘Leave here,’ the emissaries of death say Flying limbs, headless bodies and chaos Destruction…