Erhiawarien Justice Akpesiri

Erhiawarien Justice Akpesiri Poems

These are the large cedar poles
Bleached and buffed by the element to a silver-gray
Slowly decaying as they fall
Alas,
...

I am not dead yet
For still I live
I do not know when I shall die
I cannot tell when it shall come
...

We have been called to ledge-iss-layt
The kon-stee-chew-shon to ay-mend
Or just ay-pend a little klorz
Should we de-bayt or draw a brawl?
...

A yellow bellie
How more nobly shall I treat this man
He came, wearing that one yashmak of cowardice
Clothed, that one yellow streak un-dirigible
...

I
A friend I lost years long ago
One good friend I dearly loved
Whose love I knew was strong and sure
...

My eyes,
O epicure of direst things
My eyes
They have come to their end in sheer tears
...

This' a bland serving of thought
for those unsure they are alive
A thought to all who holds the thought
they should be dead or worse than dead
...

The sin of Judah, is written down
Written, with the diamond point of a ferrum pen
Engraved on the tablet of mortal hearts
Upon the stones and sacred grounds
...

Many long seasons now gone, could recall
Upon our lands and our neighbour’s yon
Here we lived
Saddled in our candid pouch of peace
...

There are some, who are truly blest
Those in whose hands a blessing so quickly turn a-woe
A malediction
And there,
...

For you who twitch and turn in the frustration of thy pain
‘Does He really care about, or see to my shaming pain? ’
Take solace, my brothers
And be of a calming cheer, dear mothers
...

12.

O my confusion!
With whom shall my intimacy be?
With whom shall I share my gate?
When distress comes
...

The Best Poem Of Erhiawarien Justice Akpesiri

Haida Gwai’i (The Isles Of Lost Appeal)

These are the large cedar poles
Bleached and buffed by the element to a silver-gray
Slowly decaying as they fall
Alas,
In the largesse of her past
Now shrouded in the mists of a many time
Her people,
Children of the eagle and raven
In dignity and friendliness
As they are dressed in the finest of sealskin robes
In the potlatches of the winter months
In songs and choruses
Swarming, o so magnificent canoes
And in these she’d raided and traded, unmatched.
But no
These are no days for raid or trade
For these are days of feasting, a day of dancing
A day of songs and of storytelling.
And how now come a chieftain sing—
A solo song of welcome
And from ashore, a many voice and chorus raised.
A people, unique, of the Misty Isles
Haida Gwai’i
Split in the Eagle and the Raven clans
Totem poles and teeming crests
Haida
In the vastness of her forest home
Clad and carpeted with the sprouts of her many moss
There, where roam the black bear, in the gates of the giant Sitka spruce and hemlock
Broom bushes, the resplendent bloom
Seabirds and falcons, in the steepness of her cliffs
Bald eagles and ravens.
And there come another, upon the peaks of the promontories aloft
A shaman, wise and elderly
And upon the waters, feathers he spread
A confetti
But no sooner came the white man
There was with him his disease and his alcohol
And the scourges, erstwhile unknown.

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