THE WORLD’S OLDEST LIBRARY

The oldest library in the world still exists!
Somewhere on earth
Not destroyed by moths
All bricks still the same
As they were laid
No cracks or breaks
As would’ve have been
When strong winds of
The mountain form
A two-fold force with
The tricks of time.

All of its pillars seem to
Have sworn an oath
To remain forever young
With the strong posture of the
Past well seen in our
Contemporary time
No not one worn out
By age.

The oldest library in the world still exists!
It’s roofing sheets of steel
Still shiny and rust free

Well-aligned to another
With tight screws like
A rogue held captive in
Hunter’s camp.

Unmovable it is
Incredible were those men
Of which it was said
They continued the construction
Based on the ASSIGNED DESIGN


The unfinished work of
Christ they took to many
Heights while they endured
For many nights the pains
Of haters crew

A pack of sovereign Jews
Devoted to religious doings
Committed to put their
Works to a stop.

The oldest library in the world still exists!
An architectural design
Housing 66 hefty books
In both shelves
Old shelves with uncracked
Scrolls waiting for someone
To stroll in
Take a walk and have a
Good read.

The oldest library in the world still exists!
Not in the woods
Or some interior zones
Oblivious to all.

Ebubechi
© 2023

Drive Past It

I stopped driving at 16 when I had my first accident. The cost of it all made me decide to let the keys go, like lovers on some bridge in Paris, after adding their locks to the teeming number that will cripple the bridge.

This is not a poem. And it is not about lucks or keys
or a kiss or about spoon feeding emotions
or trying to have a relationship
or driving a career worthy of a Fast and Furious adaptation or a Shakespeare narration.

This is to the one who has felt heartbreak close up but, like one of the blind asked to describe the structure of the elephant, will take my words with a pinch of salt. Add it to that part of your wound that a heartbreak caused, cover your cracks with it, do an Nsibidi inscription on your sensitivity.

Heartbreaks are bad for your Health.

Remember when I said I stopped driving, well, I will drive again, and again and again and again. That is how hearts get broken…and heal.

You love or trust or have certain expectations for/from people, their inability to meet up or match your expectations leaves you hurt, and now I have been summoned from Frankenstein’s grave to tell you this;

Don’t stop loving, don’t stop being optimistic, don’t stop expecting the best from people.

Don’t stop believing…
Don’t stop loving…
That is how hearts get broken…and heal enough to heal other broken hearts.


Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020