Poem: The Flying Eagle @ 69 by Asoro Abubakri Olatunji - THE NEW DAWN ONLINE

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Monday, March 29, 2021

Poem: The Flying Eagle @ 69 by Asoro Abubakri Olatunji


It been days since i released my poem and it was strategically released with a lot of suspense but specially to greet the arrival of the celebration of the birth of an icon himself. While the poem was in circulation, and with the choice of words in the poem, many have suspected that I was referring to myself as the "flying eagle", if that will be right, until then, it remains an aspiration and of course, I won't blow my truimpet.

Although, people will call him the lion of bourdillion, a name he no doubt loves but it's not short of place to also call him an eagle the one that soars high against all odds. With the atmosphere of the political terrain at the moment and his survival in the mucky waters of politics, "an Eagle" is just another round peg in a round hole to describe Asiwaju.

Again, Eagle signifies inspiration, release from bondage, victory, longevity, speed, pride and it is often an emblem for powerful nations.

We are at a time that our country needs someone who possess these attributes especially as already foreseen and symbolised in our nation's coat of arms. Even as it's part of our coat arm, there is no doubt that alot need to be done to rightfully place us as a powerful Nation especially as the giant of Africa.


Enjoy the poem:

THE FLYING EAGLE

"I'm the output of your input
I'm the seed you buried in the soil
I'm that seed that you water everyday
I'm that abandoned debris
I'm the flying eagle
I'm that cub that you have nurtured to roar
I'm the you in me
I am that cameloen, that wears your colour
I'm a true reflection of you
Who will plant bitter leave and have a date with date?

I'm MAD
and through me, you are MADE

Your carbon copy has been made
Look at the mirror and have a glance of the you in me

I'm the little wish in your heart that you have not dared
I'm your blinking hope
I'm your unending tormential dream
I'm the new version that you keep adorning with different Grammer.

You call it transformation, it didn't work
You call it change, it does change but amazingly dazzling
You call me hope, but with a cup of tea
The light was put off

I'm MAD
I'm the mad man without identity
I'm the man without shoes but with wraps of thousands of gift for my wedding guest
I'm the poor herder
The one though with a golden spoon

I'm at your doors step
I'll not come to you again in abaya
I less choose to be an agbaya

I'll not come to you a poor man, your sympathy may crave my taste for the Queen's notes
I'll not come to you a gentle man
But I'll come in the reflection of your little desires
The ones your subtle kill even though they are your silent aspires"

Happy birthday Asiwaju! 

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