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Eddie Awusi Poetry

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A sampling of poetry by Nigerian writer and graduate of English Literature Eddie Awusi.

ITABOSUWA

She was my warrior queen,
Princess of my past world.
Naive was her royal reign.
Armed with an eye on the world.
Walking through tepid grassland
Of spears, toil, buried breath and aged gossip –
Dismantling a garrison of
Tuareg foot marching fighters.
Her temper was ancient goose,
In a flash of lightning.
Tending love with great value,
Anguish called her, home.
Within a heart that vibrated in it’s casement.
I recognize her from the past,
From the foot of creation.
527 years gone and counting,
In a countryside Egypt.
But I died in her hands, Itabosuwa.
My blood dribbled and stirred,
From her immaculate white frock,
Leaving a cesspool of anguish,
In her widowing youthful heart.
My love for her was a road,
With an abrupt dead end.
This underage princess from antiquity,
Now relive her past glory, differently.
All forgotten in a macabre,
In a modern breathless tale of love.
She takes her place,
Beside my merchant self:
A modern Nigerian,
Not knowing the story of our ancient love.

WHEN A MAN DIE

When a man die,
Let him become a star,
Lest, he roams in his void.
His Sapphire soul,
Let it brew ageless fire,
Brightly cliffed and shinning,
On the roof of the sky.
Let him burn scythes,
And high volume of larvae,
In his twilight zone.
Though he ceases to live,
Yet, let him exist,
Illuminating the universe,
With agility and gait.

I SURRENDER

I surrender to earth;
I surrender to the sky –
Vocal shotguns in hands,
Shot up in defiant submission.

I surrender to the seas;
I surrender to the firmaments;
I surrender to life;
I surrender to death;
I surrender to the world under.

I surrender to my innate yearning,
Bathing in the fragments of my passion.
I weave my days into accolades,
Waiting on a speechless thunderstorm.

I surrender to bliss;
I surrender to pain;
I surrender to my distorted infancy:
Evoking a childhood, I never had.

IF YOUR NATION IS A SINKING BOAT

If your nation is a sinking boat,
Do not dismiss her as a failure,
Packing your bags and baggages,
Ditching her for another’s glory.
Be within her fold, and plan for a rescue,
Take upon yourself, duties of chivalry.
Nurture her for a better berthing,
In nation building.
Be her life jacket.
Else, you become a nonentity,
In another man’s land.

THIS IS HOW THE EARTH CRIES

This is how the earth cries.
Grisly heaving supine breath.
Scolding humanity with catalogue of disasters.
Vomiting roots in gilded squabbles.
Jamming alloys in pensive mood.
Stunting roses on senile soils.
Throttling avidly with a thrusting air.
Erupting volcanoes on frenetic days.
Handing dust to haywire winds.
Earth, humming in a witling quake.
Hurricanes sweeping with devious hands.
Coughing water against hyacinth times.
This is how the earth cries.

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About The Author

A Nigerian writer of Isoko extraction Eddie Awusi is a graduate of English Literature. He lives in Benin city, where he is a small business owner. He has been published in Dandelion In A Vase Of Roses among other poetry anthologies. His work has also appeared in numerous poetry magazines.

Eddie Awusi was exposed to the dangerous consequence of war as a child, when his hometown of Emevor was militarized in 1994.

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Published inPeggy Heitmann

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