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Constant Ngozi

of

Ibadan, OYO, Nigeria

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CNC+Ozurumba (Constant Ngozi)


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Divinely Birthed Nexus

by

Constant Ngozi


The germination of each new dawn’s hike,
Growing, grows unbaulkably into a dazzling day.
By age advancement, veers the day to dull dusk,
Which on own’s ageing, is blinded by the nights ray.
So does day, with night regulate office alternation.
Clouds congregate to do the land sure shower
To dry same, the clouds disperse, to permit sun.
The air, earth, sea; all are endowed with power.
Power to conceive-cum-create comfort and life. Why?
For rapture to the animals high, exempting not low.
The low that thrive to nourish thriving for the high.
This nexus, of Conception and Birth came, you know?
As divine fruits, ought we not yield life and works
To tend and sustain harmony in our divinely birthed nexus?


Retiracy

by

Constant Ngozi

I’d take not again to retiracy.

Like a tortoise in its shell,
so turned I to things of such.
But
Cupid shot thru, to me,
drew me out to
where my senses sensed;

my eyes eyed a garden beauteous
with motley flowers of Eden’s descent
my eyes ate to satiation, sought withdrawal_
They ministered to my nose
O Eden spoke to me.

Cupid shot thru, to me. Stuck_yes_his arrow stuck
And
From my cavern_my tortoisic cavern,
I snailed out: To turn at my enchanters’ turning.
They in the lieu of turning, ministered
now coevally to my ears and skin
as an apple rustled way down,
brilliantly landed in the palm, my palm
that went to shield my head;
ministering to me a gospel.

My skin sensed. My eyes sensed.
I sat, as would a Moslem
to have the tongue, my tongue, ministered to.
Up, up, to my mouth, went my appled hand.
Eek! The apple gave me my fingers.
The flowers. The garden. The ministrations -mirage!

The Eve handed me to solitude - a shell-less shell.

I’d take not again to retiracy. No!
I’d take not again to retiracy.
I would seek out the garden that fed the mirage.

Virtue versus Vice

by

Constant Ngozi

"Why do you attract more employees?
You pay really nothing to match that I pay yet_"
"That’s just where the strength of your illness lies:
To you, I pay nothing cos you know them not."

"But I came to know them before you"
"O yes virtuous Virtue, you knew them before me
But I meant that I understand them more than you;
I understood their loves and hates than ye

I understood they want emoluments now not later;
I understood they care more for now than morrow;
So ready to swim whatsoever, howsoever the water,
T o embrace their lusts’ fruits even if it’s on borrow

Borrow to pay with even the interest of life"
"I see, O I see vicious Vice, I see
So how does this knowledge make you tough?
I mean your tough grip on the lots that be."

"Wait now! Patience is not in my gift
So don’t wear my time with interruptions
Before your obstruction I disclosed what?"
"That to get their desire, even lives turn baits

Unfortunately, I scarcely share of this zeal."
"I’ll tell you why cos I know you’re helpless. Ha,Ha!
I understood all I understood of most of all
And let them each, to have it their way ha ha

Quite so very, very unlike your majesty
I allow my employees to work howsoever,
Wheresoever, with whichever tool obligatory
If it’s a lie one needs, he’s made an employer

If it’s whichever genera of stealing, I endorse
If it is ‘outside-I do-sex’, I do sanction.
Be it, coveting, selfishness, hatred or lies. Any vice;
Cheating; even making life or lives join extinction,

I by no means welcome a frown or a check.
I only deter and kibosh visits to you
By these, they are elysian and onto me stick
Getting their hearts today, morrow knows not much value.

All these garnishes me with growing employees
But you_ oh! Is that tear you are dropping?
Hey virtue, pity is not in my constituents
Talking with you this long is even giving me choking

In the stead of a thank you offer a cry?
Am I the one who gave you your constituents?
Am I the one who made you morrow conscious than I?
Am I the one who made them now-now conscious?"

"You see Vice, my tear isn’t for you but them
Their weakness, by shallowness is only strengthened
Today dies. Now-now dies. But morrow, em, em
Tomorrow is impervious to or by dead-end.

Today is delivered of a baby, the sex we know
Tomorrow is pregnant with what is beyond us
Tomorrow has what none sane and sage’d let go
Besides, I give my workers peaceful peace.

To them I dish contentment, joy, and cheer
I dress them with love, kindness, honesty
Loyalty, uprightness, purity, altruism, in sheer.
And these and more also bless them in sincerity

My employees suffer not the torment you dish
None quite sane, sage and superior is with you
None with you knows the real goodness I dish
None with you knows the morrow’s value

I cry for them, for their eternity is messed
Unless they repent and do you due denounce
You have not but pseudo-good in your gift
I have the real and offer them my workers

So I cry, come unto me all ye burdened
By vicious Vice, come to me virtuous Virtue
And I will give you real good untainted
I will give eternity that’s elysian to you."

Cosmetic Consolations

by

Constant Ngozi

On a rock she's seated
eyes blinking in quick successions
to keep back the down-pour
the eyes threaten to let go anew

One would think her eyes
a base of snails’ toing and froing
for seeming snails’ dry trails that coursed down
giving her cheeks a cosmetic touch.

She, for bites of the rock on her rump
kept to adjusting and readjusting.
Her blinks still fought. Failed. It streamed.
On the rock she’s seated. We-e-ping.

Confrontation rose, reached, reaped, précised
good governance gave, and gives
her agriculture frustration
her hope’s prop(oil) sore point life
her education, her economy, her future
strength to answer death’s calls

Seated on a rock in Aso, her
all wail well up just cosmetic consolations.

FIRE ON WITH FIRE

by

Constant Ngozi


Were self-induced decease as approved
As it is by Creator and creations reproved,
Then see I no sense why one as I whose hoped
Hope and hoping, seemed, seem, seems tailed
By a determined deferment daredevil, dared
To circumvent every of my moves moved,
From sitting me where my daring desire desired
Should persist in patient wait for due death-aid.

Does not a heart fall sick at a hope’s deferring?
How good the state then when hopes to defers cling?
It is fiercely, frustratingly fervour faltering
Binds with shackles one’s tentacles of hoping
Making one dread the drive due dreaming
Leaves one more desirous for halt than moving
On in the seeming hobble and drudgery of living.

Yes, one may desire_ No! One desires to cease
When all the seeds sown seem stuck in freeze
When the goals, dreams, hopes, targets--- whose
Fruition must make livelier, "life" and "lives:
All seem more disappearing than appearing to gaze
All seem to yield nothing but dead end daze.

But however hopelessly worsted one’s case is,
Accepting defeat to me is suicidal. Heed hence.
Self-inducing one’s exit for whatever cause is
But bad, never good let alone best for worst. Notice
- Deferred. Not and never will be denied hopes.

One alone determines denial of a hope
Therefore, let none for howsoever case bud-nip
Neither root up the life in one’s hand to develop
For that awards one eternal rest in hell’s lap.

One ought to, as much as lies in him, keep keeping on:
See the deferred hopes as working to egg one on
To heights one’d never have seen to attain.

Gold’d be no gold but for fierce fiery fire assist.
A legend’s tale without wars won is dull to taste.

LUV

by

Constant Ngozi


Verily, verily, love does love reciprocation

But that that dies after embracing non-reciprocation

Maybe anything, anything but love. This is true luv,

-That that even on meeting rebuffs, still does love

-That that seeks, eats light, night, with luvd mansion.

INVALUABLE MINSTREL

by

Constant Ngozi

For Ezenwa Ohaeto

In the dry drought of man’s desert
The chants of a minstrel
Springs founts of consoling waters

In the waning heart of despondence
The chants of a minstrel
Fans up hope’s flaming fire from the cold ember

In the drudgery of man’s trudge-ry
The chants of a minstrel
Affixes wide soaring wings

And even in the unlikely stroll with death
The chants of a minstrel
Wrings honey from the gall sack

These scores and lots
Underscore the underlying invaluable value of
The minstrel and his chants. And
We eat the honey
We soar the flight
We wand the flaming
Relishing the founts
And the minstrel lives