Get Your Premium Membership

Best Poems Written by Chidi Ezeibieli

Below are the all-time best Chidi Ezeibieli poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Chidi Ezeibieli Poems

Details | Chidi Ezeibieli Poem

Regrets of a Dead Man

He lies numb but restive.

He is robbed of all physicality.

All his days have broken before him.

There is no day, no night, no past, and no future.

He sees all at a glance.

His mind is excruciated with the question, WHY?

He speaks but is not heard, touches but cannot be felt.

Then he wails from his six-feet deep bed but no one can hear his cry.

No one is near enough to show pity.

He begs from his dark cloudy world, ‘PLEASE!’

Then silence.

Unable to look upwards, lest he will be blinded for eternity

From the light above.

He left his home in a confused state,

Left his family in gilded sins.

His son is a gigolo; his daughter a minx;

His wife a gossip; his servant a cheat.

Now he lies six feet away from correcting it.

All he wants is one minute after millions wasted.

Copyright © Chidi Ezeibieli | Year Posted 2006



Details | Chidi Ezeibieli Poem

I Buried the Poet

disappeared with the moment,
Regrets, Echoes, Confusion, Lust,
all sandwiched on white leaves with blue veins
coated with brownish crust.
i have my name on it,
lost, i cannot stand,
dizzy, hoping it escapes a cognoscenti hand.
The rythms, The rhymes, The stanzas, The lines
I cannot save money to buy,
'cos they came like from the sky.
sighs and tears soaked by the time.
I'm a forfeit mind...
but I wrote those lines...
blue, black, green and red,
on white pages spread. Awakening, I buried the 'i'
now awaiting the fumes of the sediment to bring I back to life.

Copyright © Chidi Ezeibieli | Year Posted 2006

Details | Chidi Ezeibieli Poem

Walls

Mansions we have built in our lives;
Manors created by our minds;
Our imaginations placed stone after stone and set the walls rising.
Bricks of different weights and sizes,
Blocks of different colors networked in different designs;
A color maze, we can hardly figure out which color was placed first.
We look at the base; our Infancy- this is truly us.
Not the walls whose formative years have cemented the ground.
We cannot easily break down the walls and return to our foundation.
It is even difficult to crack through the tiles of insincerity
That portray our lives.
On each side we are faced with fear, pain, and unbelief.
We are uncertain.
We do not speak loud because the wind might carry our words over
And spill our secrets to the outside world;
To those with eager minds wishing to come in
And see our very bedrock that we have kept under for years.
Our only retreat is our dying day,
Because these walls have stretched across the globe
With stones placed on stones that we watched rising.

Copyright © Chidi Ezeibieli | Year Posted 2006


Book: Reflection on the Important Things