The plastic cadence of the laptop
Keys as I clicked away exuded elegance
And a hypnotic rhythm against the quotidian din
Of the bustling ward:
Crying children, and muted conversations,
Purring equipment and whooshing ceiling fans.
I was businesslike and urgent
Keeping pace with the attending’s dictations
Typing faster than I could ever write
Hurtling closer to the workday’s end.
It had been tedious from morning:
We’d barely conquered the busy clinic in record time
And now we tackled the ward rounds
With brainstorms, standing at the bedsides.
The team had tired –
Fatigue had crept upon us;
And the delicate computer clicks
Altogether sounded so much like sighs!
Copyright ©May 27, 2020. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
That’s a given
Of course, she
Knows she’s pretty
But how pretty
I’m not sure she
Her twin dimples
Break forth in smiles
Her sculpted cheeks
So appealing and cute
Her obvious youth
A refreshing sensation
Her full, black
Hair, rich without perms
And made up in a bun
In her electric blue dress
Copyright ©April 23, 2019. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
Like a myriad
In slow frame
Like light trance
Copyright ©April 10, 2019. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
Pensive, dark portrait;
Light, dark, and shadows.
Copyright ©December 11, 2017. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
Do not say there is no God.
For you do not know;
There are many little things
You do not know,
So be quiet and ponder.
My God is to whom I owe my being.
And through good times and hard times
From whom I seek strength and inspiration.
Therefore, do not say to me
There is no God!
Maybe you are your own god;
Maybe you reject the concept of gods;
Maybe you are not sure what to believe;
There are very many things
I do not know, but
Do not say to me, there is no God!
My God, whom I chase after,
Dwells in me, and yet is bigger than everything
My God is loving and understanding;
Omnipotent and ever-present;
Omnipresent and omniscient.
That is my God!
Copyright ©December 8, 2017. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
I think to myself
What goes on in her mind;
While I consider and say
I need to soak up all this warmth
I lean in closer
Your softness presses my arm
Softer and more inviting
Than the cosy cinema seats:
Did she just shiver;
Maybe I’m sapping her heat.
I feel intimate.
You grab my arm,
And tilt your head
I inhale the whiff of your natural hair
And then the shampoo and hair cream –
Thoughts flood my mind.
I wish things.
I stroke your full thighs through your stretch jeans.
I long to touch.
I long for a kiss.
What goes on in your head.
Copyright ©January 5, 2017. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
Folded omelette, like
A light yellow pocket square –
Glistening and freckled!
Copyright ©May 29, 2016. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
Albeit ahead of you
I’ll hit forty.
I was young
(I still am);
Full of ambition.
I was bright,
Brilliant and brimming
With unbridled exuberance;
An ebony beauty with catchy pink lips.
The many years have
Made me plump, and rounded
Me off in myriad ways;
Within I remain my former self
Yet scarred and hardened,
Galled by certain wars
Of love and heart and betrayal;
A little of me still shines bright.
I’m above judgement
Your puerile mind
Will never fathom my history!
I am a woman
(Complicated, they say);
Unmarried and influential,
Adept at what I do!
Copyright ©February 23, 2016. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.
I broke forth from the sea of sleep,
Breaching the surface of the deep –
Breathless; confused; scared, by visions so real –
I shiver, letting out a scream so shrill!
I forget how I slept and when –
The usual short trip to bed, and then
The sleepy struggle with the bed sheets;
Finally, cuddling beneath cold sheets.
I forget. I try. Yet floods of mem’ry
Break my head – stabbing grief, misery
And disbelief – bringing on denial;
My faculties spin round like a dial!
It’s real like the dream last night
True; heartrending to admit.
Over time and casual recounting, healing;
Not forgotten (like injured skin, peeling).
Yes, it’s over now and past.
Let this be, of such, the last
(A reality most bitter to perceive) –
Joy and blessings let’s all receive!
Copyright ©2006. Elo Igboeli. All Rights Reserved.