Category Archives: Poetry

BOMBS by Haruna Adinoyi

At the filling station.
How could they not
Call us or send us
A text message to
Tell us to evacuate?
Children and women
Scattered under the
Evening sky.
“Is this a holocaust?”
I hear an old cat think.
Well, I don’t want Aaliyah
To wake up just yet.
The playground is Aleppo
And I promised her mother
I would only wake her up
When this madness is ended.
I count the stars at night
And remind myself that
Last night, a crowd of children
Tried to count the stars
But were cut down by
The enemy bullets.
I will not go outside
To count the stars.
I will paint a rose
Where bullet holes frown
In the picture I have of Ahmad.

©2016. Haruna Adinoyi


We Wish To Inform You – Haruna Adinoyi Yusuf

We Wish to Inform You

We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our family.
This morning, they threatened to shoot us if we tried to run.
They took half of me when they decapitated my teen.
Alas, they choose people at random to slaughter.

I come from a land where we heard bullets.
Even today we still hear bullets.

Here it is blood for blood. Only blood will suffice blood.
You scream, scream and scream;
You can scream your lungs out but no one will hear you.
And when any person dies here no one seems to pay attention
Obama, Liz, Hollande and Putin are eating flowers at lunch on D-Day;
Some poor country must pay the cost tomorrow.
They build on top of us as though we do not exist.
Are we invisible to them?
How do you rebuild a town when you are not sure
Anyone even wants to go back?
If your family is getting droned, then you will probably know
If they are right and wrong.

Israel debates force feeding Palestinian prisoners protesting
Their incarceration without charge or trial.
Czar Putin claims part of Ukraine,
While CC and the khaki men of Thailand steal the show,
And Kabul continually shudders from PTSD.
If I wasn’t here, if the government doesn’t get changed
After five years, my daughter will be here
And they will break her head or shoot her down.

If people were to ever find out what we have done, we would be chased down the streets and lynched.


The gong sound late
To the unknown we blindly march
The unseen smells better
Experience weighed
And found wanting

Bearing cane marks we grope
For better footing on these dunes
Thirsty camels on lifetime’s journey
Mapping for an oasis
Before that final nap catches up

This can’t be the best we can be
Chastised in long suffering
Back bared to chastity’s belt
Pleasure denied in our collective pain
Justice, when shall we see you again

With specks in our eyes
We remain unblinded to the truth
For so long our faces have been held down
Beneath water filled sinks
At log-a-heads with log-eyed masters

No victors, no vanquished, they said
Yet punished for asking they stop the loot
Corruption stinks like empty man-caves
Laid waste by oil spilled crudes
Its indigenes on a blind exodus for better days

© 2015. John Spurgeon.
All Rights Reserved.