CC photo
By
Umar Yogiza Jr.
hike across the atlantic
scarlet lips
etched
hidden woes with solitary plans
cracked opened by a kiss
pains hidden in desires
finds their way home
plodded through mediterranean joy
which also means grief
sun by their sorrows and pains
bickering souls
split
swallowed by the violence
that may put food on their table
oppressed
cried for the scarbeam
that lights their dying dreams
that no conscience want to light
unimprovable progression
I
a deserted street in my heart
opened a narrow pathway
thorned by arrows of indecisions
dreams sauntered silently
avoiding a taxicab of reality
heart of unanswered prayers
shattered like irreparable glass
cloudy street unsafe
silence, silence, silence
the guilts worshiped fears
i see nobody but arrows
of celestial indecisions
stagnant like abandoned flood water
i, a worshipper of broken thorns
refused admission
II
thirsty
broken and seduced
scorched by debauched past
who reshaped us into the concrete walls
that hold us prisoner
the silent jailhouse
factory of broken dreams
called patriotism
home that seized our heaven bound prayers
hear me cry
the scars i called a country
contoured me
into unimprovable progression
flower of pains
plethora of buried darkness
red rose of blood ferry out
through unmerciful mediterranean
different generation same thieves
different election same thieves
values broken
hope throttled into paradise of fear
we are rendered thirsty
broken and seduced
for a bloody combat
forced to called our scars dimple
a keeper of our pains
hear me, a parrot of ink
Umar Yogiza Jr.
Umar Yogiza Jr. is a writer, poet and engineer based in Abuja, Nigeria. No. 47, Amure Omanza Street, Ladoke Akintola Boulevard, Garki II, Abuja. He is the author of Instrument of Immortality and Singing In A Bonfire. His works have appeared in anthologies, journals and online platforms.
Poem of the soul, this is the first time that poetry makes meaning to me.
this is the kind of poetry that elevate ones spirit is down. Thank you Tuck Magazine.
this poem entered me like darkness, it's as if the poet is talking to me.