The country is in  limbo
While the rulers stand with hands akimbo
And many citizens are confused like bingo.

There's need for we citizens to make hay
Now it's day
So we can have a say
And live not in dismay.

Today, in our nation
It seems corruption
Is now the option.

We must take an action
To stop this stagnation
From messing up our civilization.

Can someone lead us in a direction
that can get our nation
Out of this cloudy confusion?

From my observation
Many are in frustration
And have taken the situation
As their final conclusion.

I make a confession
That I see a counter motion
That will shatter the ugly configuration
And lead us into positive progression
In this nation

Can you do same visualization
And make positive confession
So that with inspiration, aspiration and perspiration
We redeem the image and glory of this nation?

© Ifeanyi Enoch Onuoha

Desolate land,
Grasses once green, trees stood taller,
Empty streets, bereaved seas.

Once full of men ambitious,
Dreamers of better futures,
Seeing beyond horizons.

Desolate land,
Consumed inhabitants,
Cries for freedom,
Her children created the havoc,
Her soldiers bore the ruins.

Desolate land,
Once home to many,
High walls,
Guarded cities.

Now the streets are empty,
The wind hollers a dreary tune,
Life existing, in quiet resonance

What went wrong?

The earth swallowed up her children,
For they did not err to the warnings of mother nature, seeing the but signs looking away,
I hate to be the one who speaks of  such doom.

Alas! A man is found,
Torn and beaten yet surviving,
Surely all wasn't lost in the end.

Desolate land revived again,
What seemed like destruction,
Was man's preservation.

an idea blows
across a global garden
cities shake like leaves

And yet I don’t seem to remember
that anyone wished for District Five
not to have exploded the dam
that lit the Capitol’s lights.
I don’t seem to recall people
buying the tale that the police
were keeping any peace.
We were not given the mirror
to look at ourselves and say
"no, that’s not me."

Have you heard
The news
So blue it’s black
So sad its not even tragic
These stories
Theses tales
From Virginia
From a Birmingham jail
This is America
This is right now
This is how it always has been
We just refused to listen
Just another victim
To a broken system
Sure it feels better to be numb
But it doesn't feel good
We all get tired from staying woke
but how can you sleep
With death at your backdoor
Holding a badge and a gun
No warrant
Warrants this kind of response
Where is the revolution
If its not being televised

The smell of something putrid
protrudes up through your nostrils
as you walk down these dimply lit streets.
You hear the fire crackling, you see the glow off the side of an abandoned building.

Is this one of those fires you see on the news -
set ablaze by anger and retaliation?

No.
It's the burning wounds along Jacob Blake's back.
It's the marks of oppression -
the scars we "distract" ourselves from.

There's a fire burning in America
and the source is plain to see:
while bodies line up along the streets,
people following along on their TV screens
say a prayer for broken windows.
They mourn items that are looted
as if it wasn't a life that was looted first.

There's a fire burning
and it melts the black skin right off their bones.
A skeleton has no color
yet they blame corpses for their own murders.

There's a fire burning
from Sanford to Staten Island,
from Louisville to Kenosha.
But those very flames were ignited
by the people designated to put them out.

Who watches the watchmen?
Who stands with the people?

The hammer has dropped.
The bullets have left the chamber.
As long as our brothers and sisters
have to fight for their right to live,
Red, White and Blue lives don't matter.

“In sickness and in health
till death do us part”

She exploded in my heart
threw me off my feet

Across a living room filled
with nights only she can host

I spoke of her to those across the world
who will never experience what it is
to fall for a city
it is beyond patriotism
this ineffable love for a sleepless phenomenon
who homes strangers
shook the world
with shockwaves
that equaled the chemical imbalance
its people have for their city

Under the debris of sparkling glass
she was broken  
there’s so much she can withstand
even when we always stand by her side
shards engrave themselves under thick skin
poking at the body that still believes in love at first breath

At a heart that does not know how to stop
At a will-power that questions its creator about its strength
At a body that homes an identity beyond this world
alien to it

toxicity hovered in lungs

And across skies
blushing clouds
turning them pink

Sunset wasn’t serene

The ocean cradled bodies

on their way to the afterlife

They cried salty tears


Fed up.

Her soil has felt the stomping anger of grieving mothers, fathers, husbands
families
the last words of suffocating victims who never lost hope till

The angels opened the doors of the sky

To welcome new brave souls into the heavens
to lead by example
their white coffins
wed the earth with the skies
they watch over us

Brooms brushed her face
Hands held others
Homes homed
Revolutionists revolted
Nooses were hung
judgment day is knocking
at our hearts
and mind you, we are known
for our hospitality

She cannot cry

She never did

It never suited her

But she sure knows how to roar
how to devour
parasites feeding at her immortality

I wear your ring around my finger

“In sickness and in health
till nothing does us part”