A Prisoner’s Dairy
Mother, the warder walked across my cell
With a single prayer on his breast
That I may be healthy and alive
Until tomorrow when they will make me rest.
Mother, I will engrave this for you
In this wall where I am chained
As my last testimony
Of what transpired.
Mother, in truth, the law deemed me
A dangerous animal
Needed to be put in the past
To make society normal.
Mother, you I missed.
So I had planned
To come and see you
When the time permitted.
Mother, in the airport I was
Standing with others,
When pleading he asked
Can I look after his bags.
Mother, if I could pierce the heart
If I could see beyond the smiling lips
I wouldn’t have been here.
This dirge would have been something else.
With me were the bags
When security arrived
Demanding, they wanted to see
What were their contents
I used my eyes
Searching for him
to take what was his
And deal with them.
My waiting was a mirage
My longing like a drunkard’s dreams.
He never came
For the wreaths.
Mother, they searched.
Cocaine, in the bag dwelt.
In Saudi Arabia
My, penalty, death.
Ezeiyoke Chukwunonso currently is an MA student in Creative Writing, Swansea University, Wales. His poems, short stories, non-fiction and literary criticism have appeared in a couple of journals, anthologies and magazines such as: The Siren, Criterion Journal, ANA Review, Ground’s Ear Anthology, Future Lovecraft, African Eyeball, Texts on SAVVY Journal for Critical Contemporary African Art, Sowetan Magazine, etc. He has been shortlisted in Ghana Poetry Prize and Quickfox Poetry Competition.
Copyright © 2014 by Ezeiyoke Peter Nonso
Randomly Accessed Poetics 