Gbazango’s Cry.

There’s a lot of  hate in our country these days.  People are constantly being hated on the lines of ethnic and religious bigotry.

The whole world is screaming ‘black lives matter ‘ truth is,  everywhere all lives truly matter. All lives are sacred. 

Embrace and spread peace. 

Gbazango’s cry. 

(For Mrs Eunice Elisha, hacked to death  on by extremists as she was preaching in Gbazango, kubwa, Abuja and other many souls who have gone in same manner. May they rest in peace) 

I did not die for a god 
I am another martyr  of a country

that mouths  Yahweh  and Allah but worships  armageddon.
When my cries drowned that of  the muezzin,

the Quran and the Bible became a blank sheet.

It’s for Jesus and Mohamed to count  tally 

-the devil will settle scores. 
my soul is in a bus filled with my country men 

someone is trying to say a prayer

and  all that comes out is hell. 


Fire in souls,  fire in hearts that burn out  the good in a god. 
Country man,

I did not go with the ash

I remain in the plaintive  song on my children’s  tongue.

My children and yours will sing  someday 

not in a difficult language,

or in tongues,

but in a language where our gods know their names 

and call them fondly.

Morning with you. 

Like all my nights

I thought you’d  disappear with the fading of the liquor.

before you, 

 i was a bus without a stop 

driven by drunk drivers 

who chose to take me nowhere.

 i was a carnival of masquerades 

 unveiling their shadows 

after a couple of festivals.

my body – a map of crumbled cities

that bore roads to every stranger 

that walked on each one of them.
so you see, i know good bye so well,

like I know the echo of my own name.
So when you knocked 

there were no butterflies 

they had ceased to fly

 crickets swarm in my insides 

and asked me to run. 


that you were another one.
but bodies speak a different language 

they speak  the language of magnets

so while you stood,

i longed to cling to  your metals

like I always do

without expecting anything in return,

like I have learnt to do

and in a single night 

you became electricity 

you became music

you became light

you unfolded all my nights 

and I became a baby new born

knowing for the first time 

the feel of morning.


I need you as a dark night craves stars
as paint loves the canvas
as a hungry child craves biscuits
as a baby needs his mother’s tits.

I need you like air,
breathe you in me and keep you here
stored in my lungs
your scent burnt on my bones.

I need you, and I mean all of you
like a nut needs a screw
For this feeling is rhythm and blues
meant for grooving two’s

I love you and this poem
breathes my love for you in rhyme
for you are my emblem, my totem
My sin, my addiction,  my crime.


Pic credit:bk the artist.



                 The sun
               rises in me
              in full glow
              it travels slow
            through these sheets
           of rumpled cotton clouds
             processing straight
             in gentle heat
            to your horizon.
            It sets,
           in your 
           waiting evening
            and is  swallowed
           by your
          empty night
            to rise
          in your eyes.




Midnight is not for witches
Flying on broomsticks
Midnight is not for the last drunkard at the bar
Or  day for the last stripper clad in  her bra.
Midnight is for the dreamer blessed with
joseph joys.
It is  when mermaids play with thier mortal toys.
Midnight is  for the spirits  watching the moon
It is  for the old man replaying his fav’ tune.
Midnight is the earth giving us dreams
For our weary minds to join in immortal  hymns.
Midnight is our soul’s day.
It is when spirits and poems gather to play.

With so much love. Edozie✔



Maiden of the  night,
Through the corridors of my dreams
I approach your queenly  sight
Luminous beauty
Ethereal creature of the sea
Lead me down the ocean stair
To the depths of our watery lair
Your servants  from upper waters descend
-thier coastal queen – they readily attend
Rushling  swishy swashing  thier fish tails
To come squeal to you gossips of immortal tales
Let me sip from your immortal lips,
That life giving kiss
Nestle your lips on my lips,
And let’s make haste to make the running night slow
For you know my spirit returns to my body
When the moon loses it’s glow.
O!  Succubus, make me forget this spiritual tryst
So when I wake up in the morn to the reality that the sun brings
Let me  blame the sticky liquid on my trousers on wet dreams.

Poetic freestyle..

I have come through this path,
the lonely path to your heart,
strewn with thorns and thistles
I have endured all
the heartbreaks as painful
as shots from a hunter’s pistol.
I won’t give up on this quest
my heart would never rest
until i have you in my nest.