Poetic

I can not see with your eyes
And you cannot see with mine.
That is why I write you down,
Because you can likely read the beauty of English alphabets
And feel the ugliness of my thoughts.
Everybody deserves to be listened to. 

Poetry,
Broken into perky prose and pinky play
by some pundit punks with talking strings.
I make your spirit go wonky
When exuberance is reaching out for the Mars.
And make your morale go Kong when trials try to thrill you deeper into the sea. 

I broke out with those techniques from the bars of the earth.
You can not see with my eyes.
I can not see with yours,
But, we are likely to meet at those crossroads,
Where every human seems to be the same.
In tears and in laughter,
In casting, down, and in lifting. 

There is solace in every chaos.
There is vast freedom in every confinement.
There is correction in every confusion.
There is life in every death
And there is poetry in every performance. 

I hope you are so close
To seeing with my eyes
And some day or sometime.
You will write me down
And I will see with yours.

Turkey

It is not enough
Until you fire an African made nuclear back to a God with precision,
For messing up our emotions with natural disaster.

 The storms suit up and swallowed the ray.
Unaccounted waves flopped in,
Dirge dined on the disk jockey's diary.
The whole city plumped into plaintive catastrophic cooking from a dreg chef.
Tears surmounted River Jordan. 

The ravenous ground ate up parts of Turkey
And picked her tooth with construction metals.
The firefighters frozen in forlorn
And rescue team racket in riddance. 

Superman,
Where are you?
Have you left for a holiday rest
On the eve of a bloody Armageddon? 

Oh! Superman,
Where are you?
I wish I can borrow your wings and swings. 

Superman,
Where are you?
Are you just another dry dream of mine on the day of Pentecost? 

The days tore apart
And I will try as possible to sew them together,
In words or in action.
Stretching my hand to whoever that is breathing in the deep.
Come on! You will be alright.

Brotherly Letter to Mankind

The engineering behind the pillars
Overcame my muse, can you think beyond?
The foundation is locked,
We cannot move it.
Do you think the earth will disappear someday?
I guess dead people thought as much thousands of years ago. 

But mankind will return to the dust in lust or either in trust,
Throttle lively towards the dead end.
You can stall the time, if you wish
But I am not talking about using a malfunctioning wrist watch. 

Moved by the endocrine of thoughtfulness,
Let me save a single soul
Before I take a permanent leave
Down the shore of the endless sand. 

I came alone, naked and wanting,
I met you, you and you.
You wrapped me with warm hugs
And fermented my vulnerability with cheers and cheese.
You pirated heaven to soothe a destitute in Hades.
You watered down the rocks.
You did.
The nights were ghosts
You were an angel,
The streets were dumb,
You were whispering to my solitude. 

Wars stole the last chocolate candy,
You quenched my thirst with sugar cane drops.
Famine harvested all our green health and left us with kwashiorkor.
You healed my hunger with honey. 

I thought it is grace to pay you with kind words and not swords.
I felt you.
After the heated arguments,
I felt you.
After the religious riot.
I felt you.
After the cultural wreckage.
I felt you.
After the historical feign.
I felt you. It was just you and I.
It is still you and I.
Because we are the world.
Whenever we skin off mankind.
We become nothing better than aliens.

Author’s Biography

Uche Chidozie Okorie is a poet, playwright, rapper and music producer. He studied English language in Caritas University Enugu, Nigeria. His poems have been published on Kelp Journal, (Better than Starbucks)Africa poetry Magazine.