Posts Tagged 'feelings'

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The Jury is out for candidate Buhari – Elombah News

The Jury is out for candidate Buhari – Elombah News
— Read on elombah.com/amp/index.php/politics/jury-candidate-buhari/

A must read!

A song for Susan

Noel Ihebuzor

Something touches a key.

The touched key comes alive and moves,

humming stroking and caressing,

 

Soon, it blends notes and nuances,

nudges other senses to move and dance,

like alija, like nubile hips stirrred by ngelenge,

 

suddenly the soft shadows of a new song emerge,

fleeting inchoate,

some gentle touch by the potter,

and the new song explodes,

 

reason, rhythm and rhyme join hands

skipping along, spraying flowers,

red roses sing along

softliest and are heard most,

 

purple hibiscus, furl and unfurl,

hum shyly and wave

Rosemaries, Queens of the night

Explode and lather the awakened day

 

The aroused frame

whetted ears and noses aflame

with message laden bouquets

 

dripping deep messages,carousing

that caress our aroused eyes and ears –

with the beauty of Susan’s Poetry,

coated in the dazzling polysemy of an engaged voice.

 

****This is a piece I scribbled for Susan Daniels, my duet partner on Feb 15, 2013. Saw it in my archives this morning. Long may she live. Long may her poetry flourish!

When are we going to see again

by

 

Noel Ihebuzor

 

When are we going to see
she asked, her dreamy voice
dripping with desire
and he replied
his voice sober and still
When the sea sings
and seals swim rapids
in slow sweet sync
when the slowest miler
becomes the sweetest smiler
and the time keeper
beckons on Air clad snails
to breast the tape
for the diner of the famished to commence
Yes, when the sea ceases
her never ending swim
in circles of seamless curves
after mermaids hang their laundry on ropes in the sky
And the sky empties its
voice into the willing  sea
We shall see, and sing and swim

Bright Eyed Monks

By

Noel Ihebuzor

 

When monks develop blurred visions,

their world also narrows,

shrinking, thoughts wrinkle

faces furrow with frowns,

consciences sorrow

at the dimming of the eyes

at the fading of sight ‪https://twitter.com/Anabagail/status/737032387863928834 …

Lamentations

By

Noel A. Ihebuzor

We are the broken ones

ones about to be broken

about to break again

soft wood stuck

between hammer and anvil

Debris like cloud dust

from fleeing time now

float in our semi-circular

canals, our tympanic membranes

tampered, in shreds and tatters

Swirling dusts of rage,

coloured by clan and clime

by breed and creed

cloud our vision

we see hazy in the enveloping mist

where truth lies supine

and lies triumph

Wise counsel struggles for hearing

but is ignored, the midwife of truth

has been sacked, a vicious grip

holds the throat of the sooth saying parrot

and trampled truth struggles still to rise

Let Him and Her that hath even one ear

listen and hear

let even the blind

see and read these prophecies

scripted hazily on these patchy papyrus

with ink drawn from the veins of the dying

Let Her, let Him

even the clumsy with a broken tongue,

a struggling stammer

sign sing these messages

to a deaf world

For in hearing,

and heeding

in reading, decoding and recoding

in listening and speaking

lies escape, recovery and renewal

and new beginnings

May the bond

of the heart bound in hatred

be broken, shattered

scattered in the dust

let scattered hopes regroup

to oppose doom and destitution

and broken hearts begin to mend,

rebuild, re-bond and rebound,

binding all bile and bitterness

casting them to funeral pyres

of unending infernos

***Feeeling blue on a Friday and worrying about my country!

Honey, it’s heaven in my womb.

By 

Natasha Sebunya


Tears make their way through the passage carved by the loneliness that your sorry ass created
My irises burn open with the sting of regret
The salty taste bubbles through the vocal chord that had been silenced by your insensitivities
But then I hear the familiar thump that pounds in my chest
And hey, blood is still running through my veins, and air still fills my lungs
And I am reminded that I still live
Breathe- speak-beat-live
I almost drowned in a pity filled pool
Thank God I saw in it the reflection of that fool
She 5,3 drowning in tears for some fool
(who by the way is not even that big)
And I remembered
Knees-hands! crawl…left-right,march! One-two,fly!
Breathe-speak-beat-live
And I thought to myself;
There should be a license for the penis
Drive at 16, drink at 21, penis at 33
Some sort of a class where they are taught,
You opening my door, does not equate to me opening my legs
You can, and honey yes you may, buy me flowers, diamonds, a house, and some of you even the world
But mister! you can never afford my heart
My uterus is not for sale, baby not even for rent,
You have that weapon that sits between your legs, but remember I can make rise
And don’t you forget,
Honey, it’s heaven in my womb.

 

Another strong poem by Natasha Sebunya


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