Culture Poems

Popular Culture Poems
There's A Dark Cloud Over My Head
by Leon Thomas Lee

There is a dark cloud over my head
With every move i make, every step i take
It keeps following me
Lord you know i want to free
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds
Now as the rain begins to fall, i feel so small
I'm always getting wet with the rain of prejudice
Look there is a mist of discrimation
And the fog of injustice
Dark clouds, dark clouds, dark clouds hanging over my head

......

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Early One October Morning
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

The smell of humidor
Charmed the old house and
Frightened me as I ascended the
Narrow stairwell that gentle
October morning.
The song of autumn was playing
Low, and with astute grace.
Silent, the royal smell wafted between Cuba
And Denmark,
Across fat rank grass of fecund roots.

......

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Musicians
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Under the aegis of darkness,
they trespassed narrow-edged ways -
wayward musicians;
spectre-framed and so pronto the
afflatus of restless painters and
hungry poets.
Mute and stout,
they seemed agnostics,
reclining on image-powers; thoughts
and dumb instruments facing earth;

......

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Vista
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Buoyed up by the syntheses of the past,
idyllic murals of green hills open paths
to a healing truth.

What say the brown camels of Casablanca
to assassins nursing festered wounds of
new Karma?

Yesteryears recline on the shoulders of
a greying age, chanting songs to a

......

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A Letter To My Aunt
by Dylan Thomas

A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry
To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound

......

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Recent Culture Poems
Verdigris and Wasted Talents
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Verdigris is the evidence of death,
the symbol of ruin,
of waste,
of abandonment,
of incest,
sign of eternal grief...

Dust your BOOKS of verdigris,
of the mould from which penicillin
would dread.

......

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Virginia Woolf
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Have you read the note?
It speaks of the doom of the liquid element.
An inclement weather, grey, and with the fuss of a bleached lightning,
Besieges the tick of the clock.
Must have been a bland Sunday, which retreated
From the temerity of old wine,
Haunted by the lonesome refrains of exhausted hymns.
The belfry yawned loosely....
But quiet crept in like leprosy,
Hanging loops on loam-matted hair, black and fringy,

......

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Vista
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Buoyed up by the syntheses of the past,
idyllic murals of green hills open paths
to a healing truth.

What say the brown camels of Casablanca
to assassins nursing festered wounds of
new Karma?

Yesteryears recline on the shoulders of
a greying age, chanting songs to a

......

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This Heritage
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

In this arid circumstance,
on a collage of sacred pulses,
this pot —Heritage — merely sits,
smoked and besmirched by elements
of mundane faggots.

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Musicians
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Under the aegis of darkness,
they trespassed narrow-edged ways -
wayward musicians;
spectre-framed and so pronto the
afflatus of restless painters and
hungry poets.
Mute and stout,
they seemed agnostics,
reclining on image-powers; thoughts
and dumb instruments facing earth;

......

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