Chris Jibero

Rookie (Ugbawka)

Check Me Out - Poem by Chris Jibero

Have I gone crazy or what
But there is some symptom of craze
In every love
And that could be why sleep
Has fled my eyes
And my soul mired in mindless mushy mud
Since that shimmering noon
That a jolting thunderbolt
Not preceded by lightning
But designed to wreck havoc
Was detonated in my ears
Leaving me shell-shocked like a mute
From his mother’s innocent womb

What a breaking news aired heartily
By your scintillating voice
Regarding someone
To whom you willed your heavenly heart
As though an African country had won
The hitherto eluding FIFA World Cup
But I would have preferred deafness
A security to my eardrums
Guarding them from bursting like an old skin
Harbouring some bubbling new wine
Rather than hear this ear-shattering tiding
That has left me dumbstruck
Because you carelessly deployed
Your monstrous bazooka
To mow down my adamant ears

Why had I been all these years gone by
Chasing elongated masquerading shadows
By sowing precious tons of love
On unyielding stony hearts
Or was it just sheer fate
That designed my lateness
On the arena for the gold medal quest
Of your large and lovely heart

Oh, how I wish our paths had crossed earlier
When you were lying fallow
Because in you I see a treasure trove
Worthy of engaging my attention
And my affection
And my devotion
Because you are made to my specification
To hold dear and flaunt
All the days of my life
My emerald
My gold
And my diamond

Cast not my heart to the earth
To be trampled upon by some sordid swine
Who knows not the value of a pearl
And leave me not in the cold
Like a baby sacrificed to the indignant teeth of winter
By its heartless hawker mother
But do leave a little space in your humane heart
To set my feet and show you through
The spacious field of my unflinching love
That you are worth much more
Than the wretched one million ladies
Assembled in King Solomon’s palace
To wallow in stupendous wealth
But starve of love
Like deers in a desert panting for water
A dining table with a mound of pounded yam
But without a drop of soup to go with it

Pause for a while
Oh impeccable queen
And check out the performance my heart
And only thereafter would you be right
In your choice of man.

(c) Chris Jibero.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 11, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 8, 2013

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