An epistle of the poor little chap who knew more than 2300 names of peace by Ehi’zogie Iyeomoan

A poor little chap is stuffed ass to gullet
societal mishaps he would bottle as memories
in django his old tattered diary who smelt of stews soups clay
watercolours ice-creams and more things his hands could handle
in django’s eyes you could see strokes upon strokes of amazing pictures
of missing baby sister and dead older brother in heaven
apart. nobody knows nobody after earth
society’s so fucked, poor chap and family’s raped all the time
society’s got eyes all over her, yet everyone is blind
poor little chap sues, family sues, rape ensues
it seems like heaven or hell––no endings
and as he steps on cloud and clouds, they coagulate into rocks
poor little chap loves to smile and hear the echoes
and re-echoes in the laughter of little children
poor little chap smiles by day but soaks bed and book at night
crying is a good thing he would say
crying alone by day is okay to an extent
but to cry at night is a terrible thing
more terrible when the angel called suicide floats
in the damp air of the night
so he would wipe his face with the diapers of those memories
and linger on till the sun drives the moon somewhere into the clouds
to a place of imaginations as he dreams of
sudden migrations––smooth-ended nuptial flights
but one day like a night into the future
in less than four to five hundred words
rich old man brought war to poor little chap
who knew more than two thousand three hundred names of peace
nobody cared to check the word count




Ehi’zogie Iyeomoan is a Pushcart nominee, collector of Autobiographies and lover of nature and aesthetics, Ehi’zogie hides his frustrations with society in manual and electronic notepads. His scribbles have received awards and mentions from the Korean Cultural Centre, Nigeria and the University of Trieste, Italy. He recently received the UNESCO sponsored Castello Di Duino poetry prize for his poem, a dead poet’s table of content. The Open Society Initiative for West Africa poetry Fellow is currently completing his second poetry collection, a spring of endless songs. He tweets @fulanibuoy on Twitter, and operates on the same @fulanibuoy on Instagram where many crazy photos of him can be found.

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