Like a Bird, I Flee


My soul is a migratory bird
that perches on derelict buildings
once memoirs of grand feastings.
the quaintness of my thirst
has me thirsty for Waters of Yon
but my beak perks at nothing.
lingering on my taste buds are
fluids from the Streams of Vapidity
And like a bird, I flee…


A long flight to the north
has me alighting on the streams in Maidugiri
yet another flight to Suleja
has me staring at the clear water.
yielding to thirst, I drink from it;
I taste the greed, conflict and explosions.
And like a bird, I flee…

Weeks later, I perch on a tree top.
weeks later, I survey Mirii Iyalaa.
I swoop down to have a drink.
my tongue tastes past smoking guns
my throat is scorched by the heat
of passionate antagonism.
I am saddened by so much bitterness
And like a bird, I flee…


At crossroads between the West and South,
I fluttered my wings
weary from my prolonged winged flight
I fly to the west
a quick hasty dip has me repulsed
at an injustice so unforgettable in its taste
I try to spit out the pain and death
of June 12 in that water but fail
And like a bird, I flee again

My transitory escape landed me on
the banks of southern waters
my escape would have been my death
my beak wilted at the first dip
my mouth wrung with intense vapidity
at the taste from the waters of Ogbia and Eleme
I staggered,
unlike a bird, I could not flee
my mistake was to swallow more than a mouthful
I was paralysed
the taste of vapid exploitation
vapid deprivation
vapid agitation
vapid bitterness and
vapid deaths
broke my limbs.
I lay on broken wings
broken limbs
broken minds and
broken flights
unable to make another trip
poisoned at last from the
southern Streams of Vapidity


Healing will only come
from the Waters of Yon
but who will be my Moses
to take me to the Promised Land?

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