Digging mind, started an excavation.
Continued scooping to find sublime soul.
Deep thought roaming in my introspection.
How soul is functioning? Does it control?
Digging mind started an excavation
Mind yearns for, brain to
How soul operates, I cannot surmise.
Sinking deep in mind on contemplation.
Digging mind started an excavation.
I need solid proof not an assumption.
What’s the status of soul? Does it
to know: After demise does soul escape?
Digging mind started an excavation.
Whether soul exhibits identity?
Getting no solution, but confusion.
No concrete answer for its entity.
Digging mind started an excavation.
Where can I flee ! Emptiness embowered.
Last phase enjoying prolonged vacation.
Nothing left : Despondence overpowered.
I press my hands into the ruins of you,
fingertips cut in the quiet rot of ancient wounds
that have never quite been touched.
Beneath splintered ribs,
your earth is sulfurous in suffering—
your volcanic pulse muffled under sediment,
heart-rages arrested in amber.
I carve through your marrow-deep dusks,
knuckles bloodied on the bedrock of guilt,
digging past rusted veins and forgotten altars,
until my hands unearth something
promethean and glinting—
not relic, not wreckage—
but soft golds of you,
burning like a mantra
like a last prayer.
3.8.24
Our first date
to bridge a poker-face divide
conversation with a touch of fantasy
till thunderbolts compose themselves
in questions
"How do you define yourself?"
"What is your idea of beauty?"
"What pushes your boundaries?"
Questions to unearth the enigma
of not knowing
to map the labyrinth
to light the starkly lit palette
obscure
For what is safely hidden can be toxic
Secrets disclosed to set sparse love in motion
sometimes improbable
like catching a fly in flight
Our initial discovery
an excavation
that un-earths a new reality
to weave a narrative
fragmented
Poem composed July 15/21
Time mends the broken heart; a timeless feat.
Time drys the eyes that once, could only weep.
Life’s highs and lows; a harmonizing beat.
A soulful hymn; time’s echo buried deep.
The truth of time; lies within a moment.
By eternity; will Death be survived?
Death kindly stops for all; life’s atonement.
If death may die, will all lost have arrived?
Decide what’s worthy; hold it in regard.
Live every moment like it’s a lifetime.
Pass on a legacy none would discard.
Forge memories to test the test of time.
Not a moment to waste; don’t hesitate!
Dig deep into your core; self-excavate!
Digging mind, started an excavation.
Continued scooping to find sublime soul.
Deep thought roaming in my introspection.
How soul is functioning? Does it control?
Mind yearns for, brain to direct, analyze.
Digging mind, started an excavation.
How soul operates, I cannot surmise.
Sinking deep in mind on contemplation.
I need solid proof not an assumption.
What’s the status of soul? Does it hold shape?
Digging mind, started an excavation.
to know: After demise does soul escape?
Whether soul exhibits identity?
Getting no solution, but confusion.
No concrete answer for its entity.
Digging mind, started an excavation.
Second Place
'This or That Vol.4 ' Contest by Edward Ibeh
You had your tools to create this moment.
Discovery our truth and bring light to darkest showing.
I trusted who I wanted you to be.
You gave me all the lies baby.
You took my wings so you could fly baby.
You teal bricks & stone hearts just to see if love is compost.
You broke up to drain the one who loved you most.
I trusted who I wanted you to be until I couldn’t unearth anything else.
You was bad, you bruise, you a bullet to my mental health.
To be an excavation, you submit insinuation, then double penetrated the art of elevation…
We could’ve elevated into freedom
I trusted who I wanted you to be, that was so dumb.
Virtuous excavation…
validating steadfast faith*
voiding wavering trust and hope…
vested for life-building endeavour
verily provides venue for transformation
victorious removal of sin boulders with God’s grace…
visible divine** behavioral progress paved by the Lord
voicing out trust in Christ midst vilifying vanity-vexation
valiant against pride’s visitation for vision-led revival voyage
vigilant to survey heavenly truth toward valuable eternal settlement.
*Hebrews 12:2 Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.
July 5, 2021
4th place, "This or That, Vol 4: An Excavation" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh; judged on 7/27/2021.
**Title was changed after contest was judged.
For good foundations, one must excavate -
removing rocks or muck or sediment.
Without this process, how can one create
a solid base on an impediment?
“Build not on sand,” a Holy One once said.
(I paraphrase; I think you get the gist.)
Remove the dirt and grit inside your head.
You cannot have a good life if a tryst
with things immoral occupies your time.
Some habits too ingrained require a blast
to get them out! But even if some crime
has weighed you down, this need not have to last.
When things must go, imagine them as rocks,
and excavate those dreadful stumbling blocks.
July 3, 2021 for Edward Ibeh's This Or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest
sorry I keep making typos all the time!!
If I had not seen the sulfur-yellow back-hoe
roll past my window;
far, far too early this morning;
I would have assumed the jack-hammer;
pounding in my head;
was the product of a usual night;
Jack Daniels on a payday,
a bottle - or two, of cheap tequila on all others.
I stagger painfully to the window
observing the infernal machine scraping;
clawing, scraping away layer by layer.
Digging up the past; as earnestly
as I spend every lonely night trying to bury it.
No jack-hammers are required
to excavate my nasty piece of real estate.
No sir, leave it be,
and things rise to the surface;
all by themselves.
If you let them.
This or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest "An Excavation"
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Date wrote: 02-July-2021
They excavated him, her youngest son,
who passed away too soon at age nineteen,
to join her second son, who had just died
at fifty-five- to the new hollowed plot.
There, side-by-side- together, brothers slept
neath velvet grass, under a graceful tree,
where she would leave her flowers and her tears;
a mother's love for them would always be.
No way would she have come to realize-
three years from when she joined her precious sons-
another excavation would take place-
where she would rest with them eternally.
One plot, three graves- a mother and two sons-
a final excavation- filled with love.
July 1, 2021
Contest: This Or That, Vol 4
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Unrhymed Sonnet
(true story)
The sun-soaked meandering valley of my lucent life
Drained by the cadence of elated stream swirling
Around the cluster of glimmering gold nuggets
Carved out of life’s valued golden moments.
With the sailing sediments of euphoria dislodged
The sparkling pieces roll on the turbulent time
In the torrent of the cloud-burst falling sky
Flow to the flood plain of obscurity far.
In search of transported treasure trove eroded
Buried beneath the strata of stagnant time past
I wade through the marsh of submerged existence
Excavating the layers of memory in tranquil twilight.
In the light of the setting sun fading so fast
Each time the surged tide of turmoil ebbs out
I exhume the gems of memory from sands of time
Retrieve the gilded instants I had once lived to adore.
___________
June 30, 2021
Title Chosen : An Excavation
Contest : This Or That, Vol. 4
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
Awkward silence seizes me
Everytime I find you graze
Now that's it's all over
Still don't understand you forger
You are a puzzle
That entangle
When I tried solving it all the way
Realised you were away
Each time I forgave your mistakes
You took new takes
When I tried to avoid
You found new ways to make it void
You have made it all desert
Why trying now to make them sort?
I have started my new pathways
Please just get away
I have started viewing my dreamland
Without you being the part of the land
Have heard enough of your nuisance
Now just make some sense
Cause your tricks won't work
I have already experienced enough of your pranks
Stop webbing the trap
You will never get to stab
You are not going to win me back
As never gonna give you second chance
-. Edward Ibeh
27/6/2021
An excavation of thoughts, soul stripped bare
Do we like what we see, once so aware
Fears and desires, contraction causation
Fickle is intermittent attention
Enmeshed in ego’s snare, headed nowhere
Weary for wear, are we too meek to dare
Our mind, once our slave, now gives us a scare
Such are findings of our introspection
An excavation
Piquant is our dilemma, deep despair
Our fallen stature, now requires repair
Meditation reclaims bliss elation
When embraced, life joyous celebration
Ego or love; with which one do we pair
An excavation
21-June-2021
This or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
He was just a chip off the old block.
Open your mind
dig deep within
start excavation
throw out all bad incidents
all negatives
Remove anger, hatred, envy
End your lust
Fill that empty pit
with love, faith,
compassion
Today is new life
Past was last birth
Past was not me
From today I will live
blissfully
20.06.2021
Contest name : This or That, Vol 4
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
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