Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
Biography of Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
Ezeigbo Ivan Chizurum is a prolific writer. He is in fact endowed with this gift. He has won many competitions through his talent in writing like the read, write and win competition by Patience Ezinwoke where he emerged one of the winners in Nigeria and the famous UYF(United Youth Fitness) international competition.
Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo Poems
Rise Above Hate
He hates She hates They hate And hate hate
Fire In The Pants
Like a storm in a teacup Billowing from east to west Trembling at it's foundation In a horrible situation
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
I Am An English Teacher
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
I Want To Dream Of Flying
I want to dream of flying Soaring high High up in the skies High above my sorrows
Cry For Me Under The Rain
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
I'M Too Hot To Fight
Expensive shirts Euro tailored trousers Dollar coated boots The swagger is my style
The dead calls unto the living; And living unto the dead I stood still to watch my friends dying; ‘Just war? ' no one thought or said
He's Bothered Again!
Where are they? Do they have him? Will they know? And troubled is he
A Chat With Mr. President
Sorry, Mr. President, mind if I ask some questions Well, I guess not, so I'll rather begin But I'll like to know what happened to your wife and your three sons Yeah, I guessed so, can't answer that here, Mr Johnson?
My First Date- Judgement Day Of A Lady
Lying on my bed, looking at the mocking ceiling, sinking in thoughts Why must I do this?
Has anyone ever thought of life after death? I don’t think so But I thought so When the supernatural life and I met
Negros Debate Their Lives Back
In the great forest of South Africa, Moves a black shift With bare feet on the imperata Voices lay low with ancient tongues
The carcas of leaders The tomb of misery Money-inclined hearts Pleasure and fame, their watch word
Your Blood On Your Hands
Look at thy hands
What sawth thou?
A hand of a clean soul
Who has thou mudered?
But yet why lieth blood on thy hands?
There is a question you dareth not answer
Has thou taketh the fruit of which I commandeth thee not?
Yet not anyones' blood
But thy blood on thy hands