In Conflict writing…They came in landing
In Conflict writing…They came in landing
I can’t explain the exact difference
between memory and recollection
both to my poetry
are like analyzing
…a dream
In Conflict writing…
They came in landing
craft
and airplanes
and helicopters
and the breath were
the hot steam of war
sigh a murmur
from the congregated dead
ziz-zaged as the arrangement of this poem
I recreate
A land of racial ghost
and ethnic fear
Moss grow of the dead
as carpet on the trunk of trees,
and on a new page
a fresh grave lay beneath
dripping branches
underneath each story
I recollect of politicians
…the
Phantom turning to the amazing heat of flames
when they encounter resistance
from the poor
and the hungry
memory of the militants
recollection of religion
politics
area boys
genocide! Genocide! genocide
recollection
and if a native was to see it
recollection of elders
…them as they corrupt the nation
the native was shot
or killed by accidental discharge
faith in Nigeria and Africa are broken
Bodies are broken
Branches of culture were searing,
thorn and thrown
I recollect a little blood
were bone poked through flesh
Talks about the genocidal child
In Lagos street
Interred, the corpse were lain flat
In the north as in Somalia
The hillside grave drained
Our literary voices
Till rigor mortis set in
On Association of Nigerian Authors
We write with the biggest pay
Because
…for us the darkness is not a curse
The unborn child is corrupt
Me; tribalpoetry is also first a sham
The thankless occupation
That will kill me eventually
I can’t explain the exact difference
between memory and recollection
both to my poetry
are like analyzing
…a dream
In Conflict writing…
They came in landing
craft
and airplanes
and helicopters
and the breath were
the hot steam of war
sigh a murmur
from the congregated dead
ziz-zaged as the arrangement of this poem
I recreate
A land of racial ghost
and ethnic fear
Moss grow of the dead
as carpet on the trunk of trees,
and on a new page
a fresh grave lay beneath
dripping branches
underneath each story
I recollect of politicians
…the
Phantom turning to the amazing heat of flames
when they encounter resistance
from the poor
and the hungry
memory of the militants
recollection of religion
politics
area boys
genocide! Genocide! genocide
recollection
and if a native was to see it
recollection of elders
…them as they corrupt the nation
the native was shot
or killed by accidental discharge
faith in Nigeria and Africa are broken
Bodies are broken
Branches of culture were searing,
thorn and thrown
I recollect a little blood
were bone poked through flesh
Talks about the genocidal child
In Lagos street
Interred, the corpse were lain flat
In the north as in Somalia
The hillside grave drained
Our literary voices
Till rigor mortis set in
On Association of Nigerian Authors
We write with the biggest pay
Because
…for us the darkness is not a curse
The unborn child is corrupt
Me; tribalpoetry is also first a sham
The thankless occupation
That will kill me eventually
Comments
The poem depict how I feel. A silent whisper!! A wordless and soundless utter. A cold found in the hot.
A paradox, Welcome to Nigeria. I hope you feel good waiting for hours on the petrol line. welcome to Nigeria. I hope you feel alright when almighty Nepa takes the light. welcome to the world of poverty where food and mineral and overflowing for those in the corridors of power. This is Nigeria!!!
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