Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo

He hates
She hates
They hate
And hate hate
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Like a storm in a teacup
Billowing from east to west
Trembling at it's foundation
In a horrible situation
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Maternal mothers rapport even when in distress
Connected hopes even in blizzards
Temporary strong hopes even in a bleak future
Does not answer the question
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When the rabbit ran behind those grasses under the mango tree
When a small yellow bird flew across the scenic window view
And the parrot on top of the palm tree just keeps the music on
It was all a play to remember
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I want to dream of flying
Soaring high
High up in the skies
High above my sorrows
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Cry for me under the rain
Because I long to be with you
But short has my hopes been cut
Under the rain we met
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The story of a hopeless mother
Lost in a wild village
Taken out at night from her cottage
But only for the baby she carries she doth bother
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What a tragedy that man be born with wings!
What a funny sight to behold!
What great evil he would accomplish!
What measure of conflict would exist!
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Nothing more or less keeps me terrified at night
Than the frightening shadow of my love
Had she known
How much I shiver around her
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I have a future
I built with with bricks and cement
And rods and rocks
But weak bonded future
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Monuments of the new man
Resurrection of the new spice
An enemy to the former villain
That mystifies the so-called unwise
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Sugar tongues
Fearful tongs
Learning to survive
Asking why you are alive
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My skies
This is my message to you
Waking each morning
You are the one I see first
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I speak for those who ride with me on the dreary tides
With auspicious hopes of being found ashore
Our Rube Goldberg’s gold that vanished beyond our very prospects
We crave for the secession of our goals from the assays of them
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My party has risen wild
And God can now laugh with me
Like freedom on the blankets of the wind
My spirit as air from my nostrils
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Sometimes when we are sad
All we need is someone to smile
Someone to play some music
Someone to sing us a song
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Maybe you're right
Maybe I am not that happy after all
Maybe I haven't achieved true self love
Maybe I am a little dirt
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Has anyone ever thought of life after death?
I don’t think so
But I thought so
When the supernatural life and I met
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Keen eyes
Hyperactive legs
Grimace on the face
Desperate souls
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Won by the forces of nature
Sealed law of banished future
History repeats itself
At some point, you feel control over yourself
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