Posted in Poetry

A song for Santos

By Noel Ihebuzor

Surveying his still and lean frame

I still and steel myself

trying to dam the hot streams seeking release

I lean back in time and spare tear drenched thoughts

to visit with his past before his still present

and survey a future without his comforting presence



The little boy besides me clutches my hands

all grief and bewilderment, suddenly thrust into adulthood yet a child,

struggling to be brave and I too struggle to be brave for him

holding his hands as we both struggle to suffocate the pain that seeks to suffocate us 

and my thoughts tumble, my words stumble,

my mind wobbles as do my legs on this walk of farewell

a slow walk of love, honor, respect and remembrance

molten waves of sorrow scorch me as I walk and gaze

As I gaze on him and remember, and recall and re-live….



Santos, Santos the gbogbo di gbogbo

Dimkpa asa, okunrin meta,

“One Naze man at a time”

Okunrin dara, nwoke obioma, ome nwanne….

O very very Santos Achuku

Not you to enjoy the spare rib

when ribs stare at one from withering rib cages

not for you the lean prime cut

when the world bulges in the middle  with the

withered frames of lean children,

soon to be cut off in the prime of childhood

lean as thin drying and dying sticks

stick children with sagging skins

which cling like dirty sack cloths to the tiring bones



 Oh, Santos , how often did we rage at a deaf drunken and indifferent world

and for you, Santos,  action was also soothing

and so, willingly at Lekki, Tere-Ama, okorieukwu and beyond,

he lent his throat to voice their pain

with no thought of gain

save to soften their pain and to soften his too

and soothe the pains of separation he bore

gladly he lent his time, his mind, his voice, his frame

that  theirs may grow

that smiles would grace their faces



I sing for you Santos

You who now sing no more

For you Santos who loved life

but for whom songs for others was

vital for the vibrancy of your own songs

and for the voices you missed so



I sing for you Santos

I sing my sorrow and your grief

I sing for those voices,

voices whoses touches you missed and still  miss

those voices who are unable to sing,

suppressed, silent, sad,

subdued and sullen  



 I sing for the hard of heart, haters and hatters

hard nuts, twisted and knotted 

I sing Santos knowing that that your charity beams on them,

your arms of embrace still open though you be still

 Gingerly tenderly, I caress your presents

this endless present,

a past that lives, heaves and breathes

and a future that glows and beckons

The three time frames,  yet a continuity, endless

O very Santos, you came, you lived, you loved and you live on

the road you walk is smooth, your path is good, Uzoma

no stomps graze your feet as winged creatures lift you

lead and accompany you to the warm welcome of His bosom and light.



**** This is one of my clumsiest songs. I wrote it in 2009 for my late elder brother and friend, Valentine Uzoma Ihebuzor – ( I called him Santos and still do! ) after we had committed his mortal remains to mother earth in my father’s compound in the village! Santos sleeps right next to his bedroom window and the sands of my village lie gently on him! Today is three years since that committal!  Up Santos!

Posted in Poetry

Haiku on Wisdom 2

By Noel Ihebuzor


Slow to grow and glow

wisdom’s seed once blooming soon

the soul with peace fills


its bright rays flow deep

reflections expanding thought

making it richer


richer minds then reach

rainbow outputs, clean thoughts, peace

world and soul happier

Posted in Poetry

A song of Faith and Hope

By Noel Ihebuzor

When you find yourself before the day, a day 

darkened by crisis

your road blocked by obstacles, slippery and forbidding

…blinding and obstructing

the path of faith

will lead us to the fair and feast

of supreme joy

that God prepares for us.


Be confident

No need for despair

Believe in His cross of wood


Even if sleepless night blight your path

Even if ferocious dogs bark loud

And cold freezes your soul

And warm bitter tears of despair

prepare to unleash with the force of a tsunami

and anguish inundates and threatens to wash you away


Even if the terrors of the night seek to drown you

as they frighten your dreams soaking them in clammy sweat

even if the world threatens to fall apart

and suck you in and under

be confident child of faith

stand up, child

say No, and kick back the incipient despair

re-conceive your savior

your king, his laws, so simple

faith, hope and charity

be strong and steadfast and believe

be steadfast and re-launch yourself

upright on his path

your eyes fixed on heavenly things

contemplate his light that illuminates

in the rays of the sun

His reassuring caress in the soft smile of the moon

the shining stars his priceless pearls


Behold His glory, drink from the endless bounty of the joy

He freely bestows, without limits, across and beyond borders,

Without equal

on this day born of faith

this joyous day of Easter and for always

@naitwt on twitter

Posted in Poetry

A song of love and hope


by Noel Ihebuzor  

Run your agile fingers gently through the tired strands on my head
Trace your sleek fingers softly across the soft surface of my heart
Move your tendered nails slowly across the tender folds of my soul,
softly stroke and massage the raw furrows of my mass,
run nimbly and softly across this feeble frail frame of mine

Many before you have been here
Many like you, your co-travelers
With their bright commercial smiles, their well tendered fingers,
their soft solid soles and sweet smooth lips have journeyed here,
and have traced patterns of calluses and circles of weeping weal
with the wheels of their fake forced love
on this anxious soft soul trapped in its eternal cycle of hope
this soul, a willing and wide canvas for the etches and sketches
of sojourners with agile fast grabbing fingers,
their sleek tongues and quick feet.

Careful now, my love,
Nwayo, jeje, hankali
careful now that you do not scratch too deeply
Careful now with the tracks,
with the deep, soft, raw and weeping red lines,
Careful with this frame, careful you do not break it
Gently as you speak, spin slowly your seamless tales
slowly softly stroke this heart lest you cause it to break and stroke

and remember to make me no promises
and show me no heights as I am now dizzy of heights
phobic of heights I fall from when smooth sailing parachutes take you away
as you glide gracefully away, leaving me ailing as you sail away
leaving me clutching at memories that run through my numb fingers,

spin me no new tales,
spawn no new hopes,
sell me no more of your new dreams,
dreams you and you co-travelers in and through me
drummed up with your clever eyes wide open
and mine shut in the soporific of all your tall tales

And when you go my love,
my resource excavator,
My gold digger, my strip miner,
when you have taken your fill
leave me gently, leave me carefully,
leave me hopeful not hopeless,
beaten, bitten, bent but not broken,
broke but not broken, used but not useless

Leave no sudden splashes of red and
let no new tell tale weal be your parting stroke
on this soft canvas of my soft soul,
on the drained and draining edifice of my person,
on the now raw and ravaged tottering frame with its red,
weeping and collapsed arteries,

Dying, slowly dying, I who am so anxious to live
I who placed so much hope on you,
Hope as high as the iroko tree
I who welcomed you with a fluttering heart,
with open arms and trembling limbs….
as I did with many others like and before you,
and will do, all in the hope that one day
before I breathe and heave my last
my true love will come through
and liberate me and liberate my potentials
and the plenty in me would then overflow,
and the greatness in me unleashed .

Noel Ihebuzor This is a love poem. It is a song of love and stubborn hope by a country for her sons and daughters who have systematically robbed and looted her with their sweet tongues, their rabid creed and poorly concealed kleptomania, and left her in tatters and tottering…yet she still hopes that one day, she will find true love, liberation and fulfillment. I mention no country and leave my reader to fill in the blank spaces.

Posted in Poetry

A song for the uncertain

Noel Ihebuzor 

In search of certainty

do you feel me when you feel me
the way I feel you
like gentle rains on the dry thirsty earth
that sizzles with joy at each drop
and liberates a humming scent
which explodes, expands and then swirls around
everywhere and all over
humming softly like a delicate bouquet of flowers

I feel, I float and fly
when you feel me
you fill my person, body, bones and being
everything, everywhere and all over
when you feel me
and my eyes search your eyes for answers
your bright darting reveal nothing, speak nothing
to quench my thirst to know

whether you feel me like I feel you
when you feel me
Do you fool me or
do I fool myself
like the fisherman casting his nets to catch a full moon
as it floats on the indifferent surface of a lake
like the optimist hurrying back from the village stream
a raffia palm basket filled with water balanced on a wet head

tell me – do you fool me as you feel me
or do I fill a time bound need?