Poems are not those words

arranged in verses and stanzas,

hurrying to be in chapbooks, collections and anthologies

even this life is more poem than poetry


Poems are depth-less deep thoughts

breaking those traditional stanzas and verses,

hidden yet published hard and soft in our minds, poetry is

that stubborn idea at night; dogged street lights

in shanty streets that refuse to go out. 


Poems are not those compressed words, carefully

selected, carefully sieved to match our conventions. Poetry are those free

lines, unselected, unedited, free fresh wounds we fork with our fingers,

undisturbed by our methylated spirits


Poetry is a monk in a bar, a nun in a chalet. Poetry

is not poetry until it breaks the writer, until the

writer lose himself in the lines of his thoughts

A stubborn beer that breaks the mug

Poems are not just sentence with rhymes, or

 sentence without rhythm. Poetry is every rhyme

 in our shattered thoughts. Poetry is the rhyme

 in our blank ideas forming music. Music

for our brain, pictures for our weird imaginations, a music

that sends the future to the present, and the past to the present.


Poetry is darkness that refused to be dark

Poems are not words written, lines

consciously organized with sane minds. Poems are

words and lines madly built, words without letters, words

 written in the heart of readers after every glance. They are the magnet that draws every

eye back to our scattered lines. Poetry is nothingness in every first reading.

It is the last reading that never comes

About the author


Ibeto Arinze Emmanuel obtained his BAand MA in English and Literary Studies from Imo State University and Universityof Ibadan in Nigeria. His works focus on sex, religion and the nature of writing.He lives in Onitsha.

Ibeto Arinze Emmanuel obtained his BA and MA in English and Literary Studies from Imo State University and University of Ibadan in Nigeria. His works focus on sex, religion and the nature of writing. He lives in Onitsha.

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2 thoughts on “Poetry are not just words By Arinze Ibeto”

  1. “Poetry is music for our brain and pictures for our weird imaginations….”
    It felt like I was in a poetry performance.
    I love the poem. It’s a poem in itself.
    It kinda fits a prosaic poem.
    Nice one Ibeto.

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