Poem #1287: A Different Cloth

Photo Courtesy: UNHCR 

The most important thing

Is not to give in

To defeat

Or fall in the arms of

Hopeless dejection.

Destiny isn't a handout

And you can choose not

To feel letdown

You made it out

You were cut out

For greatness no doubt

Rejection is a lie

Boost that bark with a bite

There's a job title

With your name on it

No time to stay idle

Set your mind on it

This is a diff level of warfare

Not a personal affair

You've been cut

From a different cloth

Keep your head up

And never ever give up.

Akpan

Sheaves

Photo Courtesy: UNHCR (@refugees)

I have hope

In the salvation of Yemen

I have hope

That it's gon' ripen like stamen

I see 'em transforming caskets

Into abundant food baskets.

I Believe in a second coming,

I believe in second wind,

Joy comes in the morning

Yemen's fields are turning green.

We go with them bearing seeds

Sowing their tomorrow's in grief

Doubtless coming again with rejoicing

Bringing in the sheaves.

I have hope

That as they climb this steep slope

They gon' be handed a lifeline,

A life-saving rope

That keeps their mission in line.

I have a living hope

That today and for always,

Yemen will dwell in plenty.

Thank God for the Happy Days.

Hand-in-hand we'll arrive

At that destination full of hope

Hope springing high

Hope that keeps on gifting hope.

Akpan

All She Wants

Courtesy: UNHCR
Click on the link in the image/text. Thanks. 

All she wants

Is not some Jack 'n a box

Or an epiphany shot from a canon

Not even a boy

Who brings the noise,

To keep as a toy.

All she wants

Ain't a fairytale ploy,

And she don't play coy

Cause she ain't no Helene of Troy. 

All she wants

Is a doctor

For a boy both deaf and dumb

And who's rather stuck in his bunk. 

Meanwhile, she'll get an education

Our lady of valor,

So she could be her brother's physician. 

See all she wants

Is not the the wand of a magician

But a chance

To be the shero of her circumstance. 

All she wants

Is not to pull a stunt.

She's just a refugee,

Dying for the rarest opportunity:

To redeem the cause of her family,

Her own corner to serve humanity. 

All she wants

Is to feel needed,

To restore her dignity. 

That's all she wants,

Cause on her inside way deep down,

She knows everybody counts. 

Akpan

Empathy Mode

Courtesy: UNHCR

Don't breathe a word

Just cuddle me to your heart.

I long for silent comfort

Till shredding fear becomes art. 

Let our heartbeats

Sound a blended discord

While one runs the scales

Let the other hammer the chords. 

Let our breathing raise a chorus

As we inhale the pause,

Let our exhales be the crescendo

And our chestheaves even out the tempo. 

Sing me like a song

Stroke me like ebony and ivory

On your digital keyboard

Wrap up my broken tones in harmony. 

If only you'd cuddle me to your heart.

It's all I ask

And more than I could ever ask. 

Akpan

Gon' Be A Great Day

Rohingyan Boy with Sesame Street Muppet
Courtesy: UNHCR

It's gonna be a great day today

I don't know what else to say

But this much is my take;

The weather's as good as it gets

So ama suck in a lungful of breath,

Then step out on the exhale. 

It's gonna be a great day today.

The sun plugged the leak of rain

So ama put the wind in my sail,

Ain't letting this feeling in a cage

I'm gonna bust these bars of rage,

It's gon' be a great day today.

Akpan

Long Story Short

Courtesy: UNHCR

After all has been said and done

Like phantom tears from the heart of the sun,

The lust for war gives rise to refugees

Passion for bloodshed sprouts displaced persons.

After all that's said is the bomb

That empties Tigray into Sudan,

Then the slugs of a gun is enough

To send Shona scurrying to Kenya.

All that's said

And all that's done

Wakes the walking dead

And evokes a world undone;

People absolved of all feeling

Eat the heart of the living.

We bleed when they feel the need

To redeem the essence of their greed. 

Akpan

You Count

Happy Birthday to the world's greatest
refugee organisation. 
UNHCR70

Three score years straddling a decade

You've been in the business of making lemonade

From streams of tears of people on the downgrade;

Scathed twigs snatched from fires of war,

Minors plucked from the cliff of a crisis,

Outcasts fleeing the bias of discrimination.

For those holed up in waste lands, you build an oasis

And thrust into their hearts the gift of hope.

You've given countless beasts of no nation

An abiding identity and a home.

And several persons with no birth records

Are no longer mere faces in the crowd

Cause you make certain every strike counts.

The world's witnessing rising hostilities,

Over 80 million refugees and counting...

Yet you've stayed an anchor in troubled seas

A sturdy branch reaching out to a drowning man.

Wherever darkness covers the land,

You have held out a ray.

You've often believed, ” Everybody Counts.”

Now on your very own special day

Everybody declares, above all, that” You Count.”

Akpan

Final Wish

Gul Zahar, the 90 year old Rohingya refugee who
passed away recently in Kupalong refugee camp in
Bangladesh. She never lived to see her final wish of
returning to a peaceful Myanmar fulfilled.
This poem is to her memory.
Photo Courtesy: UNHCR

All of twenty five years,

Each moment racked by a spate of tears,

I've been betrayed by hope

Into thinking a lifetime of sorrow

Would bring forth a new tomorrow.

Myanmar, I wish I was your Genie

So I could clinch your soil

Once again, in the ball of my fist.

Hate would hear my voice and recoil,

And I will grant your seeds this final wish:

They will run away nevermore!

Now my soul returns to its Maker

My eyes unseeing the salvation of Myanmar.

My body expires after ninety years sojourn

In exile in the makeshift tents of Kupalong.

My one regret remains that lost final wish,

I missed my long walk to freedom and peace.

Akpan

I Belong

Photo Courtesy: UNHCR
For all the beautiful people in those countries
working tirelessly to end statelessness.
On behalf of all refugees,
You're always welcome in all of our hearts.
Thank you!

Who did I tell

When ghosts of yesterday rang my bell? 

Who raised me up from hell?

Who broke me from my shell?

Who stripped me clean of the past

That hugged my bones like second skin?

Who ripped to shreds my robe of rags

And made me their very own next of kin?

Who but you wrapped me in your warmth?

When you made me believe that even I belong.

Akpan