Umar Yogiza Jr writes

tonight i will write a love poem

i am not a poet
but tonight
i will write you a love poem

even though i shrank
from poverty
and ill health of words

no horror of a poem written better than
this poem, can prevent me from writing
you a love poem, tonight

no words between heaven and earth
can ferry to you, the exact i love you
i am struggling to express

the i love you that lost its meaning
is not the i love you
i am saying to you now

the i love you shattered by bad poets

is not the i love you

i am saying to you now

this i love you is clichéless, youthful
handsome and intelligent, forged by my
ironsmith pen, only for you, only for you

oh! sweet fruit of my desires
you grow in my heart like a desert tree
i remember how your words, milk and honey

lustered every sound within with beauty
with drums and songs
only heard by me, only me

how can love blossom in this
ungentle dry season heart of mine
that avoids many attempt of love?

i have to revolt against my fallacious timidity
tonight to finally say i love you
to say beloved, i love you, i love you

-- Tomasz Alen Kopera

Umar Yogiza Jr writes & shoots

strangulating enchantment

this trembling gate is a home

veil of vaporized smiles

clouding the rummy paths

rigid across many ancient meditations

astringent convoy of rendezvous

the trembling gate

of free prisoners

open into the past

looking for a floating destination

this home is the fabric our smile cannot weave

each thread is a thorn

that foresees the face of evidence

reality bites here like mosquitoes

dreams filled with passion

dried up with each bite

home here is the dying fire

of mortified memories

of smart goats 

riding king lion

to the battle of fasting and prayers

home here is the clacking desires

declaimer of misery

of the skyward soulless hands

bounded but loose like

a discarded sacrifice

home here is the destruction within safety

hunger in the womb

clacking clacking looking

all i see are untreated farms of sorrows

harvests of poverty

markets of mischief and greed, trading

controlled by the destruction 

of the aggravators

souls subjugated to malversation

of lost glories

frightened by cunning warriors

mistaking tears for wine

what a strangulating enchantment

clacking souls

Umar Yogiza Jr writes

bedrock of memories

we are the collective consequences

of gradual dismissal of philosophy. science. art

and critical thinking

our chaos is an ice contraption

of intellectual labour

an unreflected dilapidation

we are an urban rot

surviving on rural decay

a developmental vulture

our achievements are refurbished decrepit

hospitals. roads and universities

the bedrock of our memories

is a wall of failures thickening

we seek action rather than the grammar that formed

the action. just to embrace more failures

this is our predictable attitude

we are a collective hostility

of wanton emptiness

an unrealistic dream stretched and sustained

into unthought and unholy journey

into unreflected destination

oh! is this not a collective hostility 

without a partner?

we inherited a price without a product

a mark of quality without a product

we carry others' lives and dreams in our head

and yet drag ours on the floor

this is a manifestation of my modernity

the gloat exits of our renaissance

this is the breath of our country in our body

privatizing impunity

Vulture -- Morbula