In Biafra, when we drank from the tilting
cusps of dank leaves and washed with the spittle
the sun scorched like hell.
Anuruedoahu*, the oasis of war, like worldly
cowrie, stagnant yet devoid of rural fetid,
calmed our nerves and built in the altar of
our souls, hopes of answered prayers.
*A mysterious stream in the poet’s village.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Anuruedoahu by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Writing Written Classic Plot Our Lives, Terence G. Craddock
- Stripper Tit, Richard Thripp
- From Eed - aRe yOU. rEaLy. still DrOniNg.., sEaN nOrTh
- A Matter Of Words, Of Muses And Other Ghosts
- Massasauga Saga - Lincoln Park Zoo, Ima Ryma
- givesthewholegameaway, sEaN nOrTh
- Elegy of a crafted death, Shruti Goswami
- The Resting Mind!, Varanasi Ramabrahmam
- Morning Mist and Clouds, Ananta Madhavan
- All Equal, A.j. Binash