The Equalizer

The Equalizer. A poem by Chuck Ibezimako

This coronavirus plague otherwise
Known as COVID-19 came as a thief at night
And kills as a murderer at sight
Human it is that brought it to site
Unbeknown how far it will fright
Whoever mocks it, it’ll strike
Human ignores our world is no more afar
But a global village alas!

Unlike any other known virus ever
This’s dubious, stranger and monstrous,
Afflicting every nation on earth
Young/old, rich/poor, man/woman, peasant/noble; blind to race.
In this dire times we look to
Those who seem to hold power but
Shouldn’t we look to He that is Power?

To combat it, everyone is on a lockdown
Economies are strangulated and in cardiac arrest
Systems are in chokehold and collapsing and
Fear and gloom and doom and pandemonium fill the air
But I believe in the human capacity to overcome.
At the warfront are medical personnel
Essential services providers are
In the trenches – our heroes our heroines our warriors
Ode to you!

We come together as many parts but one body, some
Rendering melodies at balconies, at sparse streets
Soothing our neighbourhoods
Collaging with one spirit of love, performing
And proving that in unity we’re
Too blessed to be stressed
As we stay home to nest
We shall suppress its progress
Until its cure attest.

In this forced pause of
Commerce and industry
Hustle and bustle,
We breath clean air
See clean waters, healthier eco-system
Perhaps a lesson and an opportunity
For us to reflect and change our ways and
Be good to the rest of creation.

Chuck Ibezimako © March 2020

Purposefulness

As far as the east is from the west
So far is the north from the south
What’s gonna be is gonna be
If you let it be
The vastness of the ocean abounds with splendour
The deep ocean conceals billions of creatures
Interacting in manners we will never comprehend.
Shoreless ocean, sometimes rogue waves roar fearsomeness
Torrent to current conspire to inspire with
Timeless sea breezes, for eons to blow ancient rocks
Into carved, sculpted and chiseled masterful architecture and artistry
And as evening ushers calmness, its innocence shows mercy and peace
Exposing the Creator’s love
Which wert, and art, and ever shall be!
Oh mysterious ocean
We dare to know you, yet know you not
Thou shalt remain a vast open
Space perfect for contemplation.

Inspiration! What’s that?
Be inspired if your life is meaningful
Every life is purposeful
Draw strength and fulfill your life’s purpose
For every season there’s a reason
Be kind, be useful, be good to creation
What’s worth doing is worth doing well
If you won’t do it well, don’t do it at all
Some talk a bunch but don’t mean a-much
What you do matters deeply
As you accept that your actions are meaningful
Strength and vigor becomes yours
To fulfill thine life’s purpose!

                                                                                                                            © June 2019

 

Change

Yet our world was without blemish
Yet we are not to cherish
Yet God looked down and said it was good
Yet we came and named it all, and
Yet we destroyed it all with ignominy
Yet we believe we are good as sainthood
Yet we see our world change and decay before us
Yet we blatantly deny our ill-work, that
Yet brings us ill-luck
Yet should we not change
Yet we must be changed, for
Yet change is the only thing that’s permanent!                                                                                                                                                                             -April 4, 2019

The Locust

Locustpix

Never again, never again.
Never again shall the progress of this
Insect be allowed into prosperity
Within the affairs of the lives we live.

Unimpressive does it look, flying with over-sized
Flapping wings, over-sized legs but smaller hands.
Alone it’s powerless but with the ideal environment
It  hatches and multiplies into billions in matter of hours.

As though seeking notation through the earth
With odd odyssey it dines like a chopper
Moves swiftly at great altitude through vast and
Distant lands and like swarms, devastate the land
Leaving desolation in their wake.

Green and lush vegetation within minutes turn
Into mere white stalks and barren land.
These beasts so immense as to cloud the sky
Their appetite so rapid and voracious.

The infestations come in quick succession
The annoying locusts chop off the leaves
The swarming locusts cut off the nodes
The creepy locusts pick up what is dropped
The stripping locusts devour the bark
Leaving white stalks  in fallow.

It’s unimaginable what
Moses wrought in ancient Egypt.
It’s awe-striking what the US experienced in 1875
Expediently let’s expel these
Agents of destabilization
And apostles of backwardness
Before they hatch anew!

The Narrow Road

stock-photo-176589201

Fetching firewood in the bush faraway from home late afternoon,
Suddenly, the scorching heat turns the chilling wind,
The sunny skies turn red, then gloomy cloud, the darkness.
It’s the sign of a heavy rain, a downpour, flood inevitable.
Chidi knows it as teardrops fall freely, heavily from his eyes, his crimson face
And haste  we make the narrow road home.

Dear Lord, murmurs Chidi, mom’s home alone
Though rain flood our floor tonight this May
Thy mercy show I implore and spare a room
Our head may rest.

Chidi, only child to only daughter
Only but no father
Leaves in a hut with mother happily and
To many a chagrin.
Rain is dread for mother and child.

Midway home caught and drenched, no shelter no shade no stopping
This narrow road
Homeward strut and legs-paddled we did tirelessly and
Over our heads sat firewood bundles
Both hands clutched to the bundles as
The ferocious wind and downpour fight to steal our labour.
Branches break trees fall, all around us blocking
This narrow road.

Closer to home the flood level drops and
Minutes away the dry land we see no plops.
Praising the Lord, Chidi murmurs and tears-up again as
The rain never came home. It’s all about
That narrow road.

Red Hot Rob

Focused, deliberate & versatile,
Perhaps destined,
True to his name and his origin:
Falcon; Red Pheasant First Nation.
The Falcon, as prey, flies without patching
And as predator, hunts without missing.
Robert-Falcon Ouellette dared dream.

A dream of dedicated service
To all mankind, the downtrodden,
To change the course of events for good.
Treads in grandeur the road of his ancestors
Who fought for noble causes.
His outcome,  astounding results.

The Northern Light
The beacon of Hope
The king slayer
The giant killer.

Hav’n done what none other
Has ever done in his community
In time and space,
He will, ever Rising,
As a movement in a twinkle
Of an eye
Be our Red Hot Rising Rob,
Still Rising to greater heights.

-Chuck Ibezimako (c) Oct. 22/15