a poem by Joseph Chukwudiegwu Osita, Nigeria

Choked by the incense of poetic justice,
I volunteered to be slain for the betterment of humanity.
The paintings of my fluid on white sheet were witnesses
When in Abuja, I drew my poetic daggers,
Against a twin bomb blast that left separated fleshes of men bleed with acrimony.
Eyes, wept with sympathy crawling down their cheeks
While our crown boast of a thousand -tions without solutions.
Poetic justice shall reign in Nigeria, I prayed

I handshake my communication god when it rung
And clung on my peripatetic poetic spirit,
To Didier's motherland, under the fart of French stimulated Ivory,
I saw a goat-bearded-god mimic the coat of the stars and stripes.
And commands a scientists' adoration of the sun upon his bears.
When scions of termites spit at the sight of our dead flesh.
I wept when hunger-lashed beggars’' union
Cling on my feet for one CFA franc.
Poetic justice shall reign in Ivory Coast, I prayed

Under strong loyalty to the whip of matured thorns.
I saw my brothers drip blood from the scars of yesterday.
Should religion fundamentalists be blamed?
When star, halfly crucified on a sickle moon
Grind the 'holy cross' people of the south.
While the big brother stood akimbo and watch vultures poke our intestines.
The referendum at hand smells secession success on my screen.
I pray for poetic justice in Sudan and the world

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