Haruna Garba

Gold Star - 8,316 Points [Dagauda] (February 12,1958 / Dagauda, Bauchi State, Nigeria)

Haruna Garba Poems

121. Messenger From The Skies 5/13/2016
122. Greed 5/14/2016
123. Trait Typical Of Hers 5/14/2016
124. Double Shame 5/14/2016
125. Diehard Idol 5/18/2016
126. Competent Smile 5/18/2016
127. Accursed Rabbit 5/19/2016
128. Predicament 5/19/2016
129. Ghastly Motor Boy 5/19/2016
130. Just A Matter Of Time 5/22/2016
131. Red Are All Garden Eggs 5/22/2016
132. Pretty Elf 5/23/2016
133. Mass Aftermath 5/25/2016
134. Poor Cities! 6/3/2016
135. Bone Marrow 6/3/2016
136. This Sky Of Ours 9/14/2016
137. Here Are The Cities 9/17/2016
138. Poor Game! 11/2/2016
139. The Bubble Bursts 11/2/2016
140. Belittlers 11/2/2016
141. The Tip Of The Tool 11/2/2016
142. How Unbelievable 11/2/2016
143. Merchandise 11/2/2016
144. Handover Of The Seasons 11/5/2016
145. Africa Awake 11/5/2016
146. Well, What Do You Know? 11/19/2016
147. Good Hunt To Men 12/6/2016
148. Carefree 12/6/2016
149. Transition 12/6/2016
150. Space Is A Vacuum 12/15/2016
151. Back To Mother Earth 12/29/2016
152. Queer 1/2/2017
153. Hotshots 1/2/2017
154. Shamus 1/16/2017
155. Hot Compress 1/16/2017
156. Gullible 1/16/2017
157. Where Are They Now? 1/18/2017
158. Call To War 1/19/2017
159. Forestallers' Tricks 1/21/2017
160. Lagatees 1/25/2017

Comments about Haruna Garba

  • Haruna Garba (4/13/2019 2:15:00 PM)

    Thank you Gayen for the comment. I added some of your poems to my Reading List.

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  • Prabir Gayen Prabir Gayen (4/2/2019 4:27:00 PM)

    Love your poem...very beautiful poem..you are very talented...May God bless you.

    0 person liked.
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Best Poem of Haruna Garba

The Music Of Cowardice

Hoopoe, our bird of wisdom
The celebrated pendant, the poet
After decades of cultural heroism
Filled a cup from centaur
Back home
He packed aside his stepping stone songs

In a compact tree by the citadel
Owl like, he hoots
Facing the citadel, he trills
Turning sideways,
Still on he harps
And how they wished
That it weren't a municipal tree
They would have hurled red hot coal at him,
Hurled un-smothered ember at him
And down a sapling
He sings in an orchestra of nightingales
Its alto reaching the fortress:
Omen, the ...

Read the full of The Music Of Cowardice

We Have Seen It All

Who would have thought of water being sold in a shop?
Ewers or guard then in tins
But now we see different
We have seen it all
And painfully it is not our handiwork
Who would have thought of it being drunk with a mug?
Only halved miniature guard then metal vessel
But now we see different
We have seen it all

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