The Equalizer

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

Praying Mantis

Though thou art insect as
Though thou art vermin
Thy alien triangular head maketh thee look odd
Thy bulging eyes, thy swivel head maketh thee creepy

Though thy name emanates from prayer and spirituality
As thy spiked forelimbs pretend prayerfulness
But that posture is deception, a fraud for thou art
Not pious, not prophetic, not peaceful
But a calculated and cold serial assassin

Like thy cousins the termites and roaches
Thou art vile and parasitic
Thy infestation is toxic and exterminating
But unlike the roaches and termites
Thou art also a pet to some

Praying mantis in delaying tactics
Staying active and saying kaddish
Praying mantis preying in atlantis
Fearing and frantic thy victims pray God grant us
Thy ubiquity sends shivers down their spines
Thou exterminate the pests
Thou art farmers’ aides
Prospering the crops, vegetation, the ecosystem

Thy specie is an alarming 2400 and over
Though thou maketh a curious study, and
Though looking harmless, those who under-estimate
Thee do so at their own peril
Thou prey even on thy own kind
Thy mating cannibalism is shocking and despicable
Munching thy kind alive while intercoursing

Thou art still, a symbol of patience
Thy razor-sharp teeth and spiked jack-knife forelegs
Slay thy preys in an instant
With the viciousness of a marshal artist
Praying mantis, praying mantis
Preying in the mantras
I play in semantics
                                                                                                    Chuck Ibezimako © February 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

Egg of Fortune

One two three and before
You know it’s ten female children
Begot of her in pursuit of a male child and
Instead of glory her’s is gory.

Rebecca has gone this far
To appease the gung farts;
She could lose her husband
Should another beget him a male.
They say it’s tradition and
I say it’s attrition.

Her eggs are fertile
But her labour is futile. They say
Females don’t matter but the
Matter is females are the world’s fortune.

They swear their tradition to be sacrosanct
But forget that Nneka (mother is supreme).
Their lips are as loose as a goose
But believe they’re as smooth as a snooze.

Zero don’t play the hero and
Abel won’t be able
To be a judge over us.
Forward ever backward never!

The Narrow Road

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.

Papa’s Goatskin Bag

One tap two taps my young shoulders felt
” Get up, get up,” papa’s hoarse voice whispers.
Half awaken half adreaming and faintly my name I hear.
I was eight and it was 3:00AM.
“Get my bag, we must go now;” papa commanded!

Walking the darkness of the night through the haunted narrow winding road
Misty leaves of roadside bushes slap left to right rendering us damp.
Passing the village public latrine and graveyard terrain,
Across my left shoulder to my waist hung the bag, and beside him,
Papa expounded stories of a beautiful bride named “wisdom!”
The bag is custodian of life-essentials: herbs, roots, barks, blades, concoctions,
Wine gourd-cups, oil, snuff, kola nuts, bitter kola, alligator pepper, handkerchief.
Tough, impenetrable and odourless goatskin this bag be,
Perfectly twined goat-hides its strap be,
Oversized rusty buckle its lock be,
Papa’s goatskin bag.

Unknown then was electricity, kerosene-lamps lit us, firewood our meals cooked.
Barefeet we trod, scooping along dusty sands and risking all.
Deadly hissing snakes and chirping crickets silence as we
Approach to reproach. The quietness more frightening and bone-chilling than the night.
It’s odd time for human perambulation.
Louder got the chirping and more vicious the hissing, clearly protesting:
‘Tis our time, humans!

‘Twas elders emergency meeting, summoned by the town crier.
Discussion is held hundred percent in proverbs and idioms
Otherwise taboo be it.
No business has a simply-minded in this gathering
Eternal frustration and shame to the elders unversed
To proverbs and idioms.
One third of the men, their kids they bring
To groom and to bequeath the
Secret of the goatskin bag.

Forty-four men in perfect circle on their individual 1ft. wooden stool sat,
Welcomed by ten clay jars of soured palm-wine and bowls of kola placed in their centre.
Mazi  Efulefu, archer and porter, stone-faced and looking blankly inscrutable,
Clearing his throat, addressed the kindred:
“He who brings kola brings life; what the elder sees while seating on the ground,
A child cannot see even when standing on top of a mountain.”
Intent listening, easily bemused, hard understanding and forever I retain
Their rambled discussions that lasted but half hour, and
In reckless abandon did all speeches idiomatically centre on
Subjection, supposition and subjugation, born out of
Oppression, depression and suppression.
But why? the kids must evolve into
Papa’s goatskin bag!