I salute the efforts of Kyiv Post and Ukraine’s citizens in persevering in the continued onslaught of unjust and criminal aggression by Russia. I want to believe that victory for you and your countrymen is assured.

I know that poetry is not in your wheelhouse, however, I have written the following new political-poetry pieces on Putin's demented war. It’s my way of expressing solidarity and outrage.

Thank you, Irene Fowler.


Putin's War Room

Putin's war room; a Siberian dungeon of terror, barbarity, ghouls and gloom

A jumbled, sooty, murky, surgical theatre; operating to spread, death, disease and destruction

An iniquitous boudoir, incubating, one man's illogical, ignoble, impossible dream

An assembly hall, for the planning of heinous atrocities and war crimes.



Putin's war room; not unlike a wild, frenzied, unmanaged zoo

Jungle law, and fierce, feral tactics, on fearsome and ignominious display

Human bodies, minds, and souls; dragged, ransacked, shredded, rent asunder

Flesh, devoured by insatiable, pitiless, fanged, cruel, dogs of war.


Putin's war room; a dark, dank, putrescent, radioactive abattoir

Covered, wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling, in innocent blood

A malodorous slaughterhouse, devoid of safe or humane, corridors of escape

Butchers; chest-deep in rivers of human carnage, victims; shackled, hoisted and bled.


Putin's war room; an inner chamber of horrors, dedicated to the affliction of agony, anguish and torment

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Lacking any vestiges of kind, charitable or compassionate, human accoutrements

Its evil design and plan, the brainchild of an ungodly, monstrous, architect and craftsman

A monument to discord and nihilism; showcasing the zenith of man's inhumanity to man.


Putin's war room; a netherworld cathedral and shrine, devoted to tyrannical madness and subversion

High masses offered over the smoke of incense, rising from burnt, charred, sacrificial victims of war

Ministering priests, each a one-eyed cyclops, in hellish garb, stand watch over the idolatrous, profane altar


Declare every day of innocent death a victory; sacrosanct and holy.


Putin's war room; a music arena, pledged to dark, ominous funeral marches, and mournful dirges

Interwoven with Putinesque vile threats, lies, disinformation and propaganda

A recording studio, of the cacophonous shrieks, wails, screams, cries and pleas of mothers and children

Hellish sounds, amplifying the sinister mania of Pied-Piper-Putin; world's-most-evil, maestro.


Putin's war room; akin to Shelley's Frankensteinian laboratory

Thusly, 'a workshop of filthy creation, birthing an abhorred monster and fiend'

And 'the tortures of hell are too mild a vengeance for thy crimes - wretched devil!'

As he threatens to extinguish the spark of all forms of planetary life; by nuclear extinction.

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Putin: The Bloody Tyrant

Putin: Narcissist-Cruel-Bloodsucker, is thy dreaded, ill-famed name

You portray a corrupted, addled mind; fatally feral and deranged

And blanket humanity with venality, terror and gory shame

Your place in history, reserved, for the diabolical-criminal-insane.


Toy-General, pitiless-leader, master-fraudster


Lawless-one, corrupter-in-chief, crime-boss

Geo-architect of irreparable, costly, and deadly global loss

Thou abhor, ridicule, that which is noble, true and just.


Hence; hissing, seething, venomous, vipers vibrate their rattlers

Drum beats of war reverberate; warnings of vicious, bloody battle

Manifold alerts, alarms, and sirens, blare and blast

The doves of peace and quiet; for now lassoed and latched.


Shrieks, wails, cries, and heavy sighs

How many precious, innocent bodies have to die

Unjust war; making of life and light, a charade, sham, and lie

While the unlit, pitch-dark nights of the soul, mock yesteryear's lullabies.


Hurry! make haste to the buses and trains

Flee! ride away from the fearful sights and bloodstains

Loved one's, past lives, and creature comforts, left behind; forcibly jettisoned

Take heed! life is fickle, capricious; tis a cruel, harsh, unwelcome lesson.


Putin: You threaten, menace, the world with the nuclear button

Of a truth, evidence thou art through and through; loathsome, rotten

Humanity abides, side by side, with a besieged, brave, sovereign Ukraine

FREE UKRAYINA! Our justified, strong and ceaseless; universal refrain.

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The Tyrants' Apostolic Creed

They believe in ruinous, savage, death-dealing; Absolute Tyranny


The Father of unspeakable inhumanity

Creator of dystopian hellscapes on earth

And in its most devoted, slavish, sons and scions; lords of depravity

Conceived by evil incarnate

Born of hatred and mayhem

Suffering countless millions, to an existence of crippling misery, torment, and angst

Crucifying blessed human lives, dreams, hopes, freedoms and potential

They descend daily into hell

Grinding the innocent and helpless into fine dust; thwarting any hope of their resurrection in this world

They ascend not into heavenly realms; lacking love, honour or mercy

Seated on iniquitous, earthly thrones of cruel unrighteousness

From whence they deal and judge corruptly; without reason, grace, or charity

Believing themselves to be God

In their unholy, uncatholic, unorthodox universe

Communing with fallen angels

At one with the assembly of vampiric-blood-brethren

Holding fast to the unforgiveness of any, who do not bow or bend the knee

They neither care for, not covet, a glorious, blissful, sacred rebirth


Images of Open Art Creative

Russian Oligarchy: Voyage of the damned

The untouchables; exalted sun gods of our helter-skelter, dismal, perverse universe

Deities of old; Apollo, Frey, Helios, Ra and Sol, looked on us askance, their pursed lips laden with many a curse

Power-drunk on ill-gotten gains; we floated on fluffy clouds, albeit, our clay feet, were shackled to mucky oligarchy

In our cold, calculating, innermost hearts, we sussed the real price of filthy lucre to be; a free ride to bottomless toxic seas.



Corrupt state-asset bidding, birthed our monstrous brotherhood, a mob family, sworn to pillage and plunder

Our illegal sources of billion-dollar funds, and soiled reputations; rapidly and roundly laundered

The wiry, gnarled, gnomes of Zurich, licked their chops with a wink and nod; on board with the lawless, fetid, monopoly game

City of London CEO-fat-cats; grinned, purred and rolled over; lying down supine, shamelessly lame.


Putin giveth and Putin taketh; without a moment's hesitation, we sold our souls, 'cos there is no free dinner

For our predatory, distended, bloated and insatiable croc-skin wallets; thin was never in

Champagne breakfast in London's Savoy, foie-gras lunch in Paris, caviar midnight supper in Moscow

A tiny taste of the lifetime swindle, great heist and ill-gotten gains, boundless cash flow.


Superjets, megayachts, luxury cars; billionaire-status-toys, all essential starter-inventory

Rome's Bacchus; god of revelry and excess, upstaged and outplayed, by antiheroes of this sordid story

Proprietors of palaces, chateaus, mansions, villas, and grandiose penthouses, in every splendid, prime and privileged location


We were undisputed kings of the earth, absent, royal pomp and pageantry, or spectacular coronations.


Patrons, backers, and money-bags, for arts, culture, and citadels of learning

Our stars shone brighter, as victories of our global-brand sports teams kept occurring

World-class opera performances and ballets bestowed on us societal respect; a far cry from Putin's war-theatre of demented Russian roulette

We were Icarus; mere mortals, traversing the skies, soaring closer and closer, to the burning, flaming sunset.


The nonstop festive ball was a dizzying charade, each of us in macabre masquerade, careful in our mirthless, robotic dance steps

Now as one, universally reviled persona-non grata; carrying on us Namaan's leprosy, and Putin's missteps

For nought, wickedly sacrificing our prime progeny, while the count of Ukraine's dead and dying, continues mounting

We are the untouchables: For innocent blood is smeared on us, every drop defying the cleansing power, of earthly; springs, rivers and fountains

 Irene Fowler is a Nigerian international lawyer (LL.M Harvard), educator, human rights advocate, opinion writer, essayist, and poet. Her professional career includes employment with the United Nations, Geneva, Switzerland, as well as, Shell Petroleum and Conoco in Nigeria. She has been an outspoken critic of Russia’s unjust war on Ukraine, and hopes for a speedy Ukraine victory, which will also redound to the benefit, of an essential rules-based international order.

The views expressed in these poems are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.

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Comments ( 1)

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Can you be a little more specific about what you think of Vladolf Putrid?