By Noel Ihebuzor
Souls stuck in a cage,
seething with savage rage, as
hope drifts and minds roast
barren space,
yet lush in crime, grime
running wild
festering red sore
child of need and greed
slowly choking life
Author: Noel Ihebuzor
Development and policy analyst with a strong interest in the arts and inclusive social change.
Dabbles occasionally into poetry and literary criticism!
Heart versus Head, which to heed?
Seduction – A duet
By Noel Ihebuzor and Susan Daniels
seduction is best when done softly, slowly
and yes, subtly–
to lead entranced
an entrancing partner (not necessarily
all that innocent – intent and consent in a closet slightly ajar, and ever opening)
to fascinate, to suggest, but all so quietly
to the point the seduced
owns it as their idea, not yours
when it seeps slowly into anxious fevered body,
when the pores, the ears, the eyes, the lips, all sip it,
inhaling its suggestive velvety boldness like ripe brandy
Armagnac, please;
or perhaps something scented
of late summer; like pear, apple,
blackberry, but intoxicating
and strong, sweetness with heat
swimming into mind and body both
exhaling and uncoiling
in recognition of joint and multiflavored complicity
saluting coyness and salivating and waiting
yes, art. art spun by two.
a peacock has nothing on us, love,
fanning feathers to dazzle, but that’s all he has.
you bring and I welcome that drunkenness,
that reeling magic we stumble inside
and going with the flow, each new seduction
increasing flush, gush..and rush,
cascades beckoning and willing rowed to
seduction is best when done softly, slowly
*** Just back from a one month vacation where I visited family and friends in the UK and Nigeria. Back to base in Dar, it was fun to get to chat with my duet partner, Susan and to exchange views on life, literature and living with her. This poem, a duet, came up in a spontaneous manner during our chat this afternon on facebook, completely unplanned and we agreed to upload as is – hope you like it. Susan is italicized, and my words are bolded.
The sound of ignorance and the color of prejudice!
So You wont to write….! A must read. Mind your ribs though!
Here it is, in no particular order, although the list is numbered (keep in mind, this is all meant to be sarcastic):
1. Listen to lots of music while writing. The rhythm of your words should definitely come from an external source rather than from you.
2. Drink alcohol, at least two glasses of wine and never less than one glass of scotch, because inspiration originates in a bottle. Or can. Or whatever.
3. Read a multitude of bad writing so that you can feel invincible while also lowering your standards.
4. Read tons of good writing, so that you can feel crushed under the weight of your literary heroes.
5. Spend several hours determining the best place for you to write, because in the end, it’s the setting that makes the writer doesn’t it.
6. Write when you’re most tired and are really dragging it, because tired…
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Juanita
Our dearest JuanitaJuanita During
By Noel A. Ihebuzor
If my tongue does not move to mourn you
it is not that I am now dumb
sorrow like a furnace has dried up the dew
that freshens this soul, now numb
inside me all is dry, parched
save moist eyes from whence sorrow
tumbles down to an earth drenched
in the blood of a suddenly closed tomorrow
Juanita, if you could hear me
broken now, forlorn me
my wooden tongue stuck to my palate, me
throat dried, cracked and broken, me
If you could decode my silent sobbing,
you would sense my inner voice,
linked with a thousand others, hurting
wailing and railing at failed social services
in a continent that is yet to learn to rise and live
mourning a star departed
on the morning before her arrival
***** I got news yesterday PM of Juanita’s death. Juanita was/is a colleague, friend, soul mate, poet and one with whom I shared several intellectual coffees and visions for inclusive global development. Now, she is gone..and what pains most is that this death could have been avoided! Sleep well, Junaita…Juanitissima as I would tease you!
And he fed them, 5000 men not counting woman and children – (gender and child participation were in infancy at that period!)
a critique of violence as a response to crisis!
your fists
shatter mirrors
punch holes in walls
& you with
bleeding knuckles
slam your own face
into a door
to prove
what
(?)
that what breaks you
inside
to sharpness
is your heart
breaking
& you must
keep milling it
to the point
you suck pain
from an acid tit
& go look for more
still hungry
you grind
that glass core
further into flour
your daily bitter bread
that cuts
when you swallow
unmaking yourself
while trying to shake
the world
into something
as damaged as you
the doors you kick down
will never
open to anywhere
you want to be
so stop trying
***here you go, Jeremy. Inspired (sort of) by Jeremy’s poem on violence, here.
Voice over waves
By Noel Ihebuzor
Voice floating over land and waves
flowing, fluttering, humming
bearing floral images, scent
fresh mint-rosemary blended,
taste of ripe berries, full juicy
ears gently caressed with
smiles laced with flavor
of melting vanilla essence
bearing floral images, scent
fresh mint-rosemary blended,
taste of ripe berries, full juicy
ears gently caressed with
smiles laced with flavor
of melting vanilla essence
voice calm cooling,
oozing mature sweet port like essences
on antennaed ears
soft tenderly touching
across long miles in singing
warming particles,
stirring longings
even longer
and rising
soft tenderly touching
across long miles in singing
warming particles,
stirring longings
even longer
and rising
with every drop
Reflections 