Beam's Collection of Poems

Updated on March 8, 2018
Ebizimor Boloukie profile image

Born in October, 20th 1998, Boloukie haven completed his secondary education set out to start his career in Yenagoa as a poet/novelist.

Five most inspirational poems written by Ebizimor Boloukie.

Get touched!

A broken – beams

Oh – Oh! –

I’m dry – I’m dry

My broken spine

My stolen might

My fallen knight

I’m dry – I’m tried

The root of my life

My – beams of glowing light

My pride – my desire

I’ve tried… with drained rights

To dissolve my crimes

To lit my blindness

To create my rhymes

That’s a crime…?

My desire… my bride

Arrive with heavy strikes

I cry…

Bear my fight

Bear my tribe

My rising tides

And prying plights

Bid me smile, that

I – will shine again;

Make me flame

Like sunlight rays

Make my dreams beam

Full to the brim –.

With that I cry…

That I fear’s

My flooded tears dropped!

In every fall…

In you I have a ‘court’ –

that I’ll beam again

I’m Beams

A dirge to my honest bloke

You were a star

Starting to shine

The night withdrew your rays

The days redrew your tales

The wind your fears

The sun your tears

The rain – mustn’t

Wane your prints

The sun’s lost its way

The moon’s taken its place

But is drained from rays

The stars blind

My scars bound

The world mourns its soul

This blood, this incense

Born gold for your own

When time and thorns crawl

Let me see the crown

Resting on his soul, from his toil

Let me mold the bones

Which – the vultures, the scorpions,

And serpent can’t crack

Let it serve me a souvenir I had a folk

Though it frosts beneath the trees;

His blood is worth a tree of seeds.

Life in the eyes of a child

I saw the sun of the universe

Before I was born

I saw the thorns of the universe

Before I was born

I read the norms of the universe

Before I left the womb

I saw the plights of the blind

The cries of the tribes,

The crimes of the rich,

The heaviness of the human hearts,

The home of the doomed,

The horror, the torture, the puncture,

The programmed series of stress,

Everyone comes to face… I saw it –

I saw chains on my fellow preys

Before I was born

I saw dislike for my – sort

Before I left the womb

I saw millions of my type

Buried in the womb

Not this very one is safe

I saw – tombs in wombs

I was still in the womb

Prey for an uncertain doom

I saw heads of my sort – beheaded

For famished grown to feed

Before I was born… I know

That is where I’ve come to pace

Before I was born – I had formed alliance against them.

Externally displaced birds

Poor birds of the air

I hail your tears

From lumbermen wishes to

Displace you from your home

A tree of hollow nests –

Made to your best

From feeble beaks for you to rest

While feeble rests

Moped about for bread

You’ll sing back to your nest

And face the great despair

You saw the men of ‘saw’

Their blades of horror –

Were tales from your mum –

Now you flap and flap your wings

To rest on the air

And it denies you of your strength

Then you flapped away

Next to make a nest

‘Cause you just can’t rest

Without some stress for a nest

Lonely birds of the air flapping in the air

- An externally displaced bird.

Words for the Soul

The world has grown its wings

The world is ready to fly

Grandpa has grown enough gray

Grandpa is ready to die

Grays has no place in this world

The toddler has endured much hunger

The toddler is ready to cry

Hunger has no tribe in this world

Though I’m a bride

My hustler-suitor has no tribe

Brides are gold

Let not yours be stolen

The sun has forgotten its home

The moon will take its place

The moon has bought a new torch

A new torch from the sun

That can never burn

We are both going to be gone

When the gong growls

With the voice of the town-crier

That our rent has expired as tenants

Inhabiting the earth

Tenants have no home –

It is advanced homelessness

And even imported poverty

The rain has reigned for ages

The crops shall sprout with pride

Joy–shall long for Farmers

Farmers shall dig with pride

But it is still hunger

If the palms that are armed

Cross our band

They shall turn–Security for our bands.

Our friendship–shouldn’t be threatened

With words

Our brotherhood–shouldn’t be burdened

With lust for gold and lasses

This nascent matrimony –

Shouldn’t be nurtured with non-trust

All you ever feel, see or hear

Are all nomenclatures when

It’s a second old

You grow old before you

Realize you’re still a toddler

Leave behind good wishes

So you don’t have to rest in pieces

But with – kisses!

From your – folks– if not one!

© 2018 Ebizimor Boloukie


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