Home » Poems » Best » Pacella Chukwuma Eke » Best Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poems

Best Poems Written by Pacella Chukwuma Eke

Below are the all-time best Pacella Chukwuma Eke poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Why Wishes Don'T See Reality

Once,
my little mind
saw pills as sweets
and longed to take sweets
when she eventually,
ripened.
i am sixteen now
and mama
 takes the sweets
 given to her
for hypertension and back pains
and sour lips and migraines. 
please for tomorrow's sake,
i do not wish
to take this sweet pills
again.

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Black

In the beginning, the world was
And in the world, black was. 

Yet the colour, rejected 
and its people, dejected 

Human, make me see bad in black, for I do not
Make me rhyme agony with that colour that was, before the
making, for I do not. 

I do not fuse her with the wicked 
I do not consider sad days to be black days 

For only in the dark is my world at peace 
Only in pitch black, do I find peace.

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Mother Told a Lie

"Do not think ill of karma, child" 
_she said 


I am a child with roaming spirits 
I lack satisfaction when tales be told 
I once encountered death with stitches 
and realized life had its own mischief 
Did mum tell lies? 
When she spat to my ears 
_everything good will come? 
For the grieve and pain nature births 
has rudely, opposed mama's belief

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Brother

The meal of truth has become sour in your tongue
so you'd rather digest lies and vomit them whole
right before the ignorant masses ears.
My mother weeps because her lad
has been blinded with the scales of mints,
scales of power, scales of seat ;yet she lives.
My mother weeps for the breasts she lent your greedy
hands to fondle in faith that you may fetch progress
you had split open and stuffed her nipple
with lumpy spittles of corruption;you forsake mother.

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Sniff

Calm.    Watch.   Sniff. 
We are dogs
with runny noses yet tongues sealed
as we detect the unjust stamp on our rights
and still, 
 tie our tongues and breathe in hurtful words
Where's the relieve?
Where are the seeds? 
Why suck in talent?
Why sniff in evil and still oppose our instincts? 
Why not let this runny nose unravel the underwear of hypocrisy?
Sniff in
Sniff out
the accursed lies and tales of doom.
And now,
spread out
the mucus of truth and stench of liberty

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Beggars Won'T Ride

Once a beggar had told me 
to search the heart of God,
when night has silenced her feet
when everything that lives, is asleep
when the loud crickets has found their solitary spots
when the rats must have wrapped up their voices, 
and this my arousal of pain
would be lesser than spotless dots

I looked at his lips to avoid making a revealing contact
in fear of this rage of laughter threatening to erupt
Do not will my spirit into superstitious submissions, old man
If it is so,
why then does your life bond with rags?
why then does your pockets remain stagnant?
Perhaps you had not found your wealth in God's heart
Perhaps, you  had searched in daytime

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

And This Your Gift For Our Bounty

And this your gift/ For our bounty…

“Wake up to reality, 
nothing goes as planned in this accursed world”— Madara

Is it religious for a prayer mat to welcome a man 
who is saturated with his own chlorinated tears? 
There are many ways to strip a body 
and carve it, a door, for anything but sweetness. 
My eyes have eaten too much bitterness,
it can no longer filter hollow from hope. 
I said to my wife that on the resurrection sunday 
we would slow dance with turkey swimming in our throats, 
with our children wielding their forks over the last sausage 
as their smiles chew the sun, with God burning love 
until it finds its way into our nostrils. Tsk tsk tsk, 
doesn’t reality rewrite our dreams with an aim of capitalizing 
horror? There were days my wife’s phobia for knives
had us dice onions with our own teeth. 
But today, fear dies at her feet as she dislodges 
a matchet from her dissection kit. 
I sourly chuckle at reality’s way of arranging metaphors; 
how my sinless wife morphed into a killer, beats me; 
how my son, cut for dinner, is another metaphor 
that leaves my jaw on fine dust. 
The kitchen smells like a hunter soaked 
in a litter of his prey’s blood.
God won’t let death visit twice, so we feed on him tonight,
she whispers. 
Was there an option?
I dare to reply; for we either let hunger pipe out our lives
or turn our children’s body to grilled turkey.
Hunger is madness, and my spouse plays the victim. 
I peep into the soul of a woman reshaped by fate; the curves 
my hands once fondled like a trophy
are now bones bonded by an economized skin. 

Reality says, 
you would first eat your humanity before god sends a lamb…

Details | Pacella Chukwuma Eke Poem

Why Wishes Don'T See Reality

Once,
my little mind
saw pills as sweets
and longed to take sweets
when she eventually,
ripened.
i am sixteen now
and mama
 takes the sweets
 given to her
for hypertension and back pains
and sour lips and migraines. 
please for tomorrow's sake,
i do not wish
to take this sweet pills
again.