Posted in Poetry

Fading voice

 

You now dance like a drunken flame

in a broken earthenware pot

now sooty, nourished by a short weak wick

soaked in sleepy sludgy dreg palm oil

 

You zig and zag in vain

singing like an ogene with a cracked throat,

with a parched throat

like an ogene in pain

rusty and drunk

its voice dying…croaky and groggy, its timbre gone

 

Your voice now rough grates my ear drums ……

I hear your voice, fading and faint as if from a distance,

Cracked, crackle-less

fleeting and fading

as the distances between us increase,

even as you stand before me…..as I wonder what has really changed…

whether it is your song, or my ears, or the two of us.


 

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Posted in Poetry

Mind before body

The mind precedes the body

defying and defeating inertia faster than the physical

Spirit, liquid, the mind defies and denies physics

The mind pulls away before the body 

furling back, recoiling, curling back,

blocking and blanking out,  disconnecting,

once it disconnects, unlocks and disengages

the body limps around empty,

trailing on tottering feet, wobbly on jelly limbs,

trapped by recall habit , afraid, uncertain,

stuttering, stammering, hollow, hesitant

speaking as Judas must have

clutching and trying to drag any sleepy residuals

and left over emotions of the mind along,

often like an unwilling accomplice

to feasts with now impossible satiation and reconnection points.

Posted in Poetry

A song along the beach

by Noel Ihebuzor  

I jogged along, hearing but not heeding tiring feet,

tuned into and turned on by my untiring mind

On the horizon

Where as far as the eye could see,

the awakening sky draped itself in colors

lent to it by the awakening sun

dipped into the wrinkled rippling ocean

The young rising sun painted masterpieces

on the canvas of a willing and wide sky

Here and there, it oozed through the sky

there it streaked through it,

cut through it

like a golden laser,

a dazzling jeddai sword

and over there it streamed

through huge holes

pouring gold-like rays like they were flowing

through a colored sky into the ocean

that rippled, danced and welcomed it,

regaling in the generous hues of rippling silver on gold

with which it was adorned,

The blend of rippling silver with a golden touch

beautiful to behold,

inspiring awe and wonder

And the slow moving ships

in different sizes and shapes

in measured paces and distances hung around

the harbor gates

patiently waiting their turn to be called into the harbor

And I wondered what lesson in life their patience taught us

to learn to wait our turn

For the ships are called into harbor

According to when they arrived, first arrive, first enter

and so each has learnt to wait

to sail into the harbor in the order in which they arrived

as I mused over this

my mind strayed to another journey

when people are called into the final harbor of life

and I wondered why this call

did not follow a logic as neat as this

where you go into the harbor

in the order in which you arrived

and then I thought I heard a voice

break into my thoughts

speaking with soft compassion

“my son, my aging son,

why do you seek answers to questions

beyond the confines of your mind

your restless mind strays

from the path of acceptance

away from the assured safety of trust in me

and the logic of faith.

must my logic and the harbor master’s be the same?

is the gardener not free to walk his garden at will

and to pick the flowers he planted as he wills,

randomly and by his own wisdom and logic

which are above yours

as the heavens are above the earth ?

can the prettiest and brightest of flowers

with its petals dazzling the earth and sky

challenge the logic of the gardener”?

 

How I miss these flowers!

How their beauty and feel haunt me!

How I miss them

I must have said it

Did I say it?

His question meant that I must have

For I heard the same soft voice say

“Or would you want to see these flowers, to feel them

For to do so, I must call you too into the harbor”

And at this,

I thought I saw the faces of those

whose voices I no longer heard

Whose voices I longed to hear

And whose smiles I longed to touch mine

Faces that I miss so painfully

shake their heads in unison

as if to say

“Say no”

And I saw their faces against the silvery skies,

familiar and loved faces bathed in soft glows of silver halos

Of those who sleep well….

As dear now even departed as in life

All who I once held and whose memories I still hold

All signalling by vigorous sideways shakes

Of the halo surrounded frames

“say no, stay on

Emeruo emeruo ka nma” ,

their silent lips all said, all sang

And I found my own voice

Heard myself saying

to the silent approving murmur

of the rustling speaking ocean

“Call me into the harbor

After I have run at least the three score and ten you promised all,

not before

For then my debts would have been paid

And I can sail into the harbor strong, free, strong, slow and steady

Mind free, soul full and spirit willing,

But your will, supreme gardener, supreme harbormaster, not mine”

 

I jogged on, the ships sailed on

In their order and logic,

The ocean rippled,

The waves raced to the beach

The rising sun now bolder

trying as if to drown the ocean with the intensity

of its warmth and embrace

And I jogged on, in the embrace of life

embracing the living and

still remembering the departed.

Posted in Poetry

A song for friendship

 

by Noel Ihebuzor

 

The touch of friendship

is gentle yet solid

Its balm ordinary

yet potent, like those of Gilead

Its soft flame pierces deep

to lighten and brighten

the darkness of our sad moments

its abiding gentle glow

reveals and enkindles torches of love

hope, health and happiness

 

Always present even

when not there

beyond, above and astride

borders, ages, sex and climes

defying latitudes, shrinking longitudes

scaling altitudes

friendship floats like a soft feather

but cuts deep like a sharp knife

enabling and ennobling

those it touches and caresses.