13 posts
  • khemmie_ray 13w

    I died tonight
    For holding a placard
    Expressing my hopes
    For a better future,
    I died tonight
    Not for holding a gun
    But for raising my voice against
    The imposition to live in fear,
    I died tonight
    Not for being a criminal
    But for making demands for my rights
    "I just want to live",
    I died tonight
    From the loudest response ever heard
    From World Powers to our 'Distress Calls'-
    I died tonight
    Not from the bullets aimed at me
    But from the reality of my own
    Seeking to murder me.
    I died, clenching a bleeding flag
    To my broken heart.
    I died, falling like dry leaves
    To join my comrades on the weeping earth.
    I died, stuck with my fist in the air
    And my anthem escaping my tired lips.
    I died, drowning in the blood
    Of innocent lives lost.
    I died tonight at the Gates of Massacre.

    #lekkigatemassacre, #endsars #prayfornigeria

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    Gates of Massacre

    I died, clenching a bleeding flag to my broken heart.

  • uniquebob 13w

    If you are being neutral in this time of difficulty and oppression meanwhile the brutality of the presidents and his ministers had begun to produce a lot of harm on our sisters and brothers...
    Let's get up!
    Don't give up!
    Don't be afraid!
    The person who is with us and the people who we are is a lot greater than who they think they are!!

  • e_mercy 12w


    Oh mother
    Is that you I see with cotton in your ears
    While your children perish in penury

    Oh mother
    Is that you I see being a prawn
    In the board of greedy old men

    Oh giant of Africa
    Is that your carcass I see being mocked
    And made a laughing stock among peers

    Oh giant of Africa
    Where is your milk;
    Have your honey run dry?

    Is that you I see drenched in blood?
    Are you the country that was
    Or are you yet to come Oh mother

  • theessence_ 13w


    Red rain, blood stains, I live on the land of red rain.
    Red rain, grave pain, stars abright sent on their death train
    Red rain, migraine, I'll be numb with time,
    Red rain, thousands slain, a land of green now grime!

    Red rain, Red rain,
    Take me away from the land of red rain.

  • unkordinatedthuts 126w


    The Northern wind has changed its tide,
    Bringing rains of tears
    And tsunamis of sorrow,
    As agony flood the roads.
    Freedom has lost its liberty,
    As it seeks asylum from the clangs of machetes,
    And the whistling of praying bullets.
    The Northern wind has waged its war,
    Chasing cattle into sheds of rugs and stone,
    Tearing down stories raised by blood and bone.
    Midnight chatter and the tango of love birds have long silenced,
    As the mooing of cowmen echo through the shade of darkness;
    Setting ablaze memories born from eons of hopes and dreams.
    The Northern wind has changed its clime
    Sweeping from the roots like an African thunderstorm;
    Chasing naked soles like rabid dogs,
    Trapping unborn dreams in the whirl of its wrath.
    Like the deep sea;
    It bellows and swallows;
    Displaces in these places;
    Replacing in new phases.

  • thatwanderingpoet 133w

    Who else can relate to ever loving a pet so much it becomes an extension of your body you can't do without? Who else can relate to jealousy, to the excruciating pain it gives when it stings the softest spots in your heart? I can. So if you can also, this poem is meant for you.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite
    #prayfornigeria #poetryday #love #poetry #poem #africanwriter #sad #gore #mystery #mirakee #saturday #march #writersnetwork #poet

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    I killed a man who once belonged to a man who lived in wild.
    He was sick that man but he never thought
    That I with a bullet or two, would kill this animal with the end of a gun -- a semi automat.

    He lived in the wild and I lived with him in a place that spanned the Indian sea.
    It is beautiful like we who loved as we could --
    A father and a son.

    We were beautiful and all was good till he brought a stranger from the heart of the woods.

    This stranger had four legs with a hind in the woods.
    His soft eyes and graceful limbs, I feared, would become the objects my father would love
      More than his life, more than his being, more than the bond between us,
    Between a dying father and a loving son.
    I feared my father would love this stranger as he once loved his son
    So I killed the dog. 

  • chidera 133w

    Some are born angels
    while some earn their
    glowing halos and beautiful wings
    in the most unangelic manner.

    ©Chidera Nwosu

  • chidera 133w

    Nigeria has been in its worst month of crisis. The killings are excess and spreading. It is just in a state of anarchy without accountability.

    I don't know what to do, I don't know what to say. I'm just very livid and sad for the people who keep losing their lives in their own country and by the hands of their own people.

    I just hope things change for the better.
    Please pray for my country. We need all the help we can get right now. #PrayForNigeria

    Thank you and Good morning ❤

    #pod #writersnetwork #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #mirakee #everyday #plan #love #mirakereposter #sobitahpingu #writerstolli @writersnetwork @readwriteunite @writers_paradise @writerstolli @ainsleyillium @kairos_

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    How does your heart not break,
    your smile not crack,
    your countenance not despair,
    when in a free world as we claim
    a man greets his family on his way to work
    and the evening is greeted with tidings of his sudden demise
    and nothing is done about it?

    The son looks at the tiny car and remembers his father's promise to get him a bigger one.
    It's 8pm and he stares blankly at his book. Daddy always helped him with his homework.
    He waits by the TV.. It's 9pm - Time for their favourite show 'Football game replay.' He can't help but cry.

    The daughter waits silently by the door, hoping daddy would come in again, carry her and call her princess once more.
    Who is going to hold her hand when she is sacred or make her happy when she is sad?
    Angry at daddy for leaving, she cries and runs to her room and never wants to come out.

    The mother looks disoriented, distressed, still in shock, scrambling to find answer to the questions her children keep asking,
    "Mummy where is daddy?"
    Silently wishing, hoping it is just a nightmare yet she wakes up still to this disbelieving reality dumped on her.
    She tries but it's too much. It is so hard.
    The family has been gifted a great ordeal.

    And soon, it will be, like every other 'incident' a thing of the past forgotten yet to be relived again.
    It will be the talk of the day and take the place of the date we do not remember.
    The tears shall drop, voices waggle, angers boil and a silent retreat shall be next.

    What was his crime and the crime of every other person killed with him?
    Trying to survive in a world where anything goes,
    where people care less about others,
    where justice is just a mere word,
    where it is so hard to love.

    It is truly heartbreaking to wake up to the news of people dead in their numbers, even if you expected this kind of situations.
    It is truly disheartening to see people die like their lives were mere worthless commodities.
    It is truly soul wrecking when something happens and the change still doesn't come -
    just more empty promises, useless undirected anger and mere wishes and prayers of condolences.

    ©Chidera Nwosu

  • thatwanderingpoet 133w

    Thursday 28th June 2018.

    The afternoon felt the heat before it swept across
    The vehicles and commuters on Otedola bridge.
    The sudden shiver of the afternoon wind must have foreheard the symphony 
    So it took it's final course right into the tank

    Cooled drops of vapid fuel carried some cries
    With the flames those unevenly charred voices sank
    Like the bodies they left behind, poor husks of their former selves;
    Lagos will never forget, but those who speak will. 

    The road conveyed dead bodies that afternoon
    The smoke conveyed the souls into the heavens, the end of human living.
    The smoke gasped for air so the fire grew 
    And the bodies dead died even more.  

    Lagos died that afternoon
    Her streets swollen with cars 
    Her people swollen with tears and fear
    Her tragedy unearthened the lagosian's heart
    But buried the hearts of her speakers ocean deep.

    Lagos will never forget but her speakers will
    Shaping their candidacy out of our tragedy
    Yet they sing the prophecies of The Rapture those cowards,
    Converting the solemn symphony of dead saints into oppression. 

    Enjoy the symphony, they conclude
    Of the harsh cold screams of our lost people.

    Harsh cold screams they will forget but not the weight of the freshly minted notes they horde 

    So Lagos will remember

    Thursday 28th June 2018.
    @writersnetwork @mirakee @mirakeeworld @readwriteunite #writersnetwork #prayfornigeria #tribute #accident
    #poems #tragedy #sorrow #malady #poetry #life

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    Thursday 28th June 2018.

  • salre_ 133w

    This month has been a sad one for the citizens of Nigeria
    We have lost many
    We have been divided
    But we must still have hope
    @chidera @heazykiel_black @musicmuse_theguitarist @thermy @arrowqueen @xo_doz @xaaack
    @abejaynevita @jeniayn

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    There are deaths everywhere,
    Needless wasteful useless deaths,
    For no reason at all,
    Violence everyday,
    Negligence everywhere,
    People dying by the day,
    There are deaths everywhere,
    Needless wasteful useless deaths.
    Innocent people caught in politics,
    Terrorist attacks on families,
    Genocide by the citizens,
    Lack of priorities,
    There are deaths everywhere,
    Needless wasteful useless deaths.

  • irregular_teen 133w


  • thepurpleflamingo 133w

    Eyes red, lips swollen and cracked, face pale, hair scattered.
    That’s what you see when people are mourning.
    That’s what you see when death occurs.
    That’s what mothers and wives look like when they lose sons and husbands.
    That’s what you see when fathers ands husbands lose their children and wives.
    Then you see the children crying over the bodies of their parents.
    And I want to see no more.
    I want to hear no more.
    Dear death, depart from us please. We’re tired of your presence. Depart from us.

  • the_crafting_pen 133w


    Destiny wasted
    Dreams shattered
    Destroyed forever
    Denied existence