the silent bird in us with broken wings

this is the silent hum of a bird in us
 with broken wings
  
 remember all the sacrifice
 that has gone into this healing—
  
 elope if it's the only chance of your survival
  
 call out to ahmadu bello of more than fifty years ago
 if you can, to see the work of his mentees
  
 the president has replaced his problems
 with our sincere wailings
  
 we can only burn down our body
 to seek home in our ashes
  
 the only taste of our needs left us, trying to dictate
 our sorrows & light & darkness & memories
  
 this is the silent hum of a bird in us
 with broken wings
  

my place

whenever i asked for my place in heaven
while praying in my native tongue


my real wants opened me a smiling hell
it avoided the stampeding joy of paradise


the god besides me is a grief turning into my face
it only hears the ones who speakes to him in arabic


this burned the only home in my soul, how can
i ask for what i really want in foreign tongue?


everyday i wait in my mask, the only thing mine
for my preying deliveries


an invention i've became
that i cannot redesign nor forfeit


this radio's thunder
my body's mind is turning to 


melting into its
liquid loud audio 


coral & lilac sounds
extending the colours of these landscapes


multiplied within me eager & anger
burning smells of heaven darkening like angry night


a landscape that reaches high for nothing
but another alien landscape of emptiness open

Umar Yogiza Jr, is a poet, builder and photographer, based and writes between Abuja and Lafia, Nigeria —where God and Devil toss the coin of his life. His works appears on many platforms.

3 thoughts on “Poems by Umar Yogiza Jr

  1. Good morning dear editor. The title of the poems are not divided with the body of the poems. It makes it them read together.

    Thank you for publishing my work.

    On Mon, Feb 3, 2020, 6:02 PM Academy of the Heart And Mind wrote:

    > academyoftheheartandmind posted: ” my place whenever i asked for my place > in heaven while praying in my native tongue my real wants opened me a > smiling hell it avoided the stampeding joy of paradise the god besides me > is a grief turning into my face it only hears the ones who spea” >

    Like

  2. I’ve loved this initiative, wishing my poems to be published here also. . . Good luck to the persons behind this platform.

    Like

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