Archive for November, 2016

The snuff box choice

by

Noel Ihebuzor

Do not ask the Asaba woman

why she chose the snuff box

reasons are not always logical

the chooser knows best

and though saints shock us

by choosing to suffer, sadists believe

happiness awaits such a choice

 

Saints are not created by words

nor by fiat but by their works

Heroes are hailed not for their haste

but for their hard choices

 

Wizened eyes in the present

see shady pasts clearly,

and to such,

the present appears shady, unclear

 

Would saints sing the Asaba woman’s choice

as a sin,  pure without any comma

or would their deep thoughts

judge her lightly as the victim

of a conscience that was in a coma

 

rationalisation potent as indignation

often bars the doors to truth,

shutters the windows,

sheds shady lights poorly to the realisation

that though choices are always personal,

choices are also always finally weighed

on a scale steeped in ethics

soaked in morals

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United

Two nations

Space separated 

Folly fused

How the light gets in

Great poem. Helps me manage my feeling of loss.

Susan Daniels Poetry

for LC

I was going to list your loss
as the topper
to a very bad week–
first America
and now you

but your words
listened to with eyes closed
say you would have waited for this

eager, open to the possibility
of more direct wrestling
with angels.

Maybe this crack
in my skin
in my heart
in my hope

is not me mourning

but simply opening
to incandescence

I would rather live lit
than broken.

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Musings the day after

By

Noel Ihebuzor

 

when lies triumph over truth

& cheap trumps deep,

when shallow heels profound,

& cats are at the mercy of gropers

flee, my daughter, flee

 

fly, my daughter

the why of the lie

festers in the lair where lies the liar,

fast lips & slimy tongue crowding

the loud unrepentant mouth

 

when right is treated with levity,

& superficial is spun as profound,

noise drowns intellect,

asinine equations mistake

rectum for rectitude

 

lying tongues lie

in wait for the unwary

with syrups that dull-drowse

but rouse slippery rodents

of fear, hate, disdain of the other


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