Best Celestine Poems
A songbird dances on a power line;?
a man in white at a market square
sings, swings, ears to a distant drum—?
a tuneful hum from a frenetic world.
Peace beams out of a warm face—
?beauty of a world not mine—
sees?pink roses, lush hyacinths; rainbow
?hangs low from the blue, defying
the whirl of stormy wind. He soaks
dew-drops and dumb patter-patter.
Yet, before me: a kinky weather,?
wavering stocks, grating headlines?
of bombs and booms and doom;
flying shrapnels whiz overhead.
Screams and screwed up faces
of a distraught race in chains,
in culture that labels the man
a crank, unhinged from reality.
No, in white he is sane and free
as the little bird on the power line;
?as a preening bird about to roost;
as a rooster roaring the dawn.
He sings from deep recesses
of a true life wired to a source,
?detached from the market square.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
~
Among watching forbidden archangels saunter sullen paths
I reflect mandragoras through evanescent gleams of orrery elegies,
whirling into significant distraught dizain stanzas of my obsidian paint
in halcyon hopes my expressive ekphrasis will bloom alongside aureate tulips.
Under opal moons shading dozens of writhing languid lavenders of mauve,
a hushing zephyr cuddles lost villanelle verses of my nocturne lilt heart
shaping obsidian thorns of withering torment into eloquent paradelles
gifting me picturesque promises of prospering ovary triumph over obsidian odes.
O, how I dream vermillion serenade reveries of idyllic illusions
whilst pouring out serpentine verses in poise patterns of bewitching ballads,
perhaps yearning celestine fantasies to be painted in aureate ruby recognition
are as asking one to grasp glazing pearl stars under an elixir eclipse.
Upon scrolling night's interrogating introspective sighs of myrrh melodies
I refocus labyrinthine lilacs of drizzling determination through ethereal epics,
for it is through periwinkle poetry I've learned to set palindromes forward
and through vignette vellichor musings I'll leap amethyst acrostics.
~
God is good to everyone; so when you love, be in love.
Said to me a Sable Hoplite in mottled clothes; guarding the memoir of his dead wife in Boston’s subway transit.
Robbing a pedestrian of a moment's time as he did from banks for fiat claims and capital climbs via violent crimes.
He intimidates the hive mind as well as mine, but we are receptive.
Like all under the devil's thumb, we wish to traverse the red wall.
I look to my side and see a cherub evolving into a matron of unworldly skies.
Her will soars like a whirlwind sword that scores the fabric of time.
She fosters the orphaned spirit and walks the literal and figuratively blind through their valley of darkness.
Her and I are vagrant and lost like nomads; but we find homage in one another.
Attracting like covalent and ionic bonds.
She’s an eclectic electric Aryan blonde with the constellation Pleiades in the lines of her palm.
The lines are in cursive and those who read and heed its words will hear the echo of the Celestine.
The Valkyrie, oh so cunning and keen; so intent to take me to Valhalla.
She passively leads the Liberation Army; to their respective terminals and posts.
As if to intervene.
Co-collectively, they carry the virtue of a justified rebellion in the form of a military coup.
Encouraged to face the truth even in her absence, a man finds he must transmute.
I once had a pretty puppy
When I was a toddling baby;
Loved her as mum, her silk,
Fed her porridge and milk
Till aching, she began to pee.
© 2015
Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
I saw a fat chicken
enter mummy’s kitchen;
soon it began dancing
in a big pan, smiling.
The oil began frying,
the chicken too, crying.
Soon a sweet smell arose,
started tickling my nose.
With two eyes on the pan,
along with sister Ann,
we waited for the meat,
knowing it would taste sweet.
Soon the frying was done
and the chicken was gone.
My eyes rolled as I smiled,
enjoying like a child.
© 2017 Celestine Ikwuamaesi
In a wink,
she lit up the room, a morning buoy;
sunflower swayed in sun's rays all day.
No storm-warning, no quake, crack
crept up the wall; dark fog stole in,
stifled the air, and dulled the budding
bliss. Hope waned! We watched joy
bleed, seep like sudden tropic rain into
pain-etched hearts; our faces lost glow
with folds of sorrow.
In a wink, she was gone;
in a wink, we stood at a brink,
blinking back tears.
If she laid, cuddled in sleep,
I'd have crouched to peck the cheek.
A sun, she rose at dawn and set at noon.
I now look ahead, ears for the blast;
she'll rise. We’ll hug.
We’ll part no more.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Every season has a message
meant to stir the human reason.
Easter isn't just a rite of passage
but God speaking in due season
to a world straying from His purpose.
No time for fervent praying than now,
that God turn all eyes to the cross,
where His love for the world stands,
offering to all a life like His.
© 2017 Celestine S Ikwuamaesi
Wind undressed the sky, bared a canvas painted blue.
Motley faces of sunflower smiles and festive air; an abstract
splash, each gleamed; each swung in purple dress, waiting
for the bride, a summer moon, to float to the stage as funnels
of colored rays crisscrossed: the shimmer of light.
Surreal charm, the display of a galaxy of heaven's stars
offset against the blue. The world asleep, the heavens
agog with bulging eyes as the bride glided, floating;
not turning right or left, set for the peopled hall lit
by faces painted crimson. Bated breath charged the air
as gathering of God's victorious saints spelled creation.
Rapturous applause—sounds of praise, of merrymaking—
sun, moon, stars aired soft tunes; lightning arced across the sky;
thunder rumbled. Cutleries clattered, signaling the bride's arrival!
I sat in glimmering red at a table decked with white roses.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Two of a kind, two in a barn;
A turtle, a goat in a barn.
One was wise, one not; both entered
A barn via hidden narrow gate.
The barn was full, food was plenty,
Both were hungry, lean and empty;
Down they settled, rapt in the fare.
Often, the turtle would scuttle
To the gate, slide smoothly and bask.
"What's the matter?" the goat dared ask.
"Nothing, just to gauge, who knows when..."
The goat chuckled, back to the feast.
Soon a bang, the owner had come;
To safety the turtle did thrum;
And the goat, he struggled, screaming,
"Ah! My belly, the gate's narrow."
The turtle answered, "The barn's full,
Not the stomach—ever a fool."
© 2014 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Ascending the mountaintop, drawn to the realm eagles glide,
With unfurled wings locked on a cruise, eyes glistening in the sun,
I heave over the crest of crags, my mind, on the dizzy brow,
Pulled by the dew, the sunbath, the soft echoes of rhythmic
Pitter-patter of dew drops, and the charming panorama.
Above the clouds, glossy dew dribbles calmly, chills summer,
Warms winter. Blooming flowers bow at the whiff of the wind.
Honey jets from hives like milk from udders of pampered flocks.
On the plane, my eyes stretch to where the sky embraces the sea—
Blue with blue in lovers' hug. I soak heaven's elixir!
Earth rumbles, jostles for breath, sinking in the mire of death.
I dread... no! Dare I think of the grumble, the jostling against
One another for what is not, what drains off like rain from a rock?
On the plane, I float with the clouds, tanning in the sun.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Effigy formed of inert dust,
Inhaled the divine pulse, vile vine
Infused with worth and dignity.
I'm not! I'm not! Fallen from grace;
I frown at my rueful bungle.
Sad to strut, my honor swishes
Shame; dark crusted conscience
Hangs on me; keeps paling my worth
Till I yell at Christ's open arms
For return of the gone glory,
So dear, the present, a shadow.
Years in the fire, self-refining,
Yielded scum, dross, a dull shine.
If I should have another chance,
Revert to the noble state I'd lost,
My heart could be tanned rainbow.
A dove cranes on a perch, offset
Against the blue, croons in the wind,
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Yet I battle with baneful pride,
Scorn the grace, the courting nocturne.
No end to my nice now, I wow.
Quite unequalled, I'll ever be.
The bell tolls for others, each time
Softer; the whir of a whirling world.
The sun keeps her scoot; stars, their stroll.
Summer smiles; winter whines, sulks.
Time etches against my proud form.
The bell! Sounds like tolling closer—
Jangling, ruffling... nettling.
Yet my pride... my pride sticks,
Lances the chance to begin again.
© 2015 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Grace, like a rooster,
crows all life.
Those who grab the booster
gain great heights.
It could boom like a bomb,
deafening;
whiff like soft wind,
leaving the ear unruffled.
Life's laced with grace
yet it eludes many;
but when braced,
one buoys to the shore
like a sea duck
atop unruly waves.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Though the winds are wild,
And the gale unleashed;
Though waves bewail
And the surge swells:
My hurting heart still hums:
I know that Jesus lives,
I know He lives for me,
I know He's been my dyke;
I know He calms the storm.
So, I anchor in the Rock
Winds or waves cannot shake.
I hole up in its crevice
And wait for a while, trusting;
Just a while for God's glory
To drop like morning dew,
Distilling down the peace
Of heaven on the field
Dried by drought.
© 2015
Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
God And His Ways
(Jer 31.3)
God whispers in love to ears near;
screams in anger at hearts far.
His voice roars, rattles the earth; disaster,
a confetti of withered winter foliages
echoes the tumultuous cries of pain.
He draws humans with loving kindness,
saves from disaster with loving anger.
From His heart, unending ballad streams,
rustling awake sleepy eyes,
bursting open stuffed ears.
The ballad serenades God's grace,
His everlasting love.
© 2016 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
Just your passing look,
a flashing smile;
My life isn't the same,
no, not once.
You're lovely, my Love--
disarming;
Cuddling me, fresh rose
in its bloom;
Carrying me through storm
under sail.
Your love, summer sun,
glows like flame;
Setting me ablaze
for winter.
Make me a kindling,
not smoldering,
To thaw frozen hearts
numbed by hate.
© 2015
Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi