Poetry

January 3, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Aziz Acharki photo

 

By

Chidiebere Osita Igbo

 

 

 

Imminent thunder

(Prophecy for the land of rising sun)

 

 

First

You should be evergreen and firm

Upon the crestfiend of this demon storm-wave

And woo off the leprous feet of faceless firethroes

For

Your

Independence…

Before

Your

Independence…

After

Your

Independence…

During

 Your

Independence…

In wrecked time, before the feeble sight of the sun

Fast coming

Regurgitation of fossilized grey chaos of scarlet times beyond dark-walls

Emaciation, death-head, blood on the amalgamated grounds.

 

I swear! In time flare, it hung the mirth of

Blue dew, blue star, blue moon between their teeth

In the hand of blood spear

I saw it!

Land of the rising sun

The tussle of power yield all…

Compelled the men an ordeal

In the regulation federated queen’s pageant:

Now, for emancipation and self-wing of the south;

Then, own green for long existing terracotta tyrannical terrains

To the yellow of the people …….

 

For

Your

Independence…

Before

Your

Independence…

After

Your

Independence…

During

Your

Independence…

 

The man died

He that subjugates you down to manacles with unbidden crown arrogated

He that rents the Rain-counterpane, breaks the manacles

The red thunder whistle …

Just for

Your

Independence …

Before

Your

Independence …

After

Your

Independence …

During

Your

Independence…

 

This birth,

Like a woman laboring in ripe milk labour,

Eye of needle for cosmic cord,

Sullen yokes to travailing throes,

Feet against Earth-fragments

Even as it has been from the root.

I must warn, feelings of firethroes!

Only the arrow in the bow of he prevailed;

And the troop prevailed against the marauding plunder …

For

Your

Independence…

Before

Your

Independence…

After

Your

Independence…

During

Your

Independence…

 

It seems they laugh at you!

For you become the black sheep among black sheep,

Yet crouching, snarling like lion

Tearing the Night feathered garments

To robes who dares to stand?

Running Naked after the man clothed with the sun

And carrying the sky filled mane-vessel

 

 

 

 

Destroyed From The Distant Dark Time

 

 

In the dark time

When she was still crawling

And her budding eyes were still dim

You lapped into her as a malignant wave

With plaguing white longings,

And thwack blight on her head.

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

Her breasts you saw

Overflowing with milk and scrambled for it

You locust surgeons bovie electrocautery and radical mastectomy!

Dew crescent eyes caress your parched throat,

Emaciation in drought ageless

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

 

Plaguing white longings in equivocal clam-glance

Sprang up bifurcating Ireland

Scythe her spawn–Clan to strewn,

Stands she rock upon this decaying crest

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

 

Seed which you procession into gloomy gehenna, manacles, With chartered rings of soreage around their neck.

Yolks to Yoke set struggling in your night of abyss.

Venom which you…among her children.

What shall I say of them?

Is this the love, harmony, truth You wield your spear

at?

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

 

Dust practise ancestral heritage.

What shall I say to you

About the Red-scar on the bent back of

Gnarled age,

Buds and bulls in the sun of aggrieved brineeye

Which your yes-instructor left?

About fossilized earthuterus illgrowth in imperialism?

About spiders, writhe, famish in grey prostration,

Wail albumen dove bloods reaching me from earthbowels?

Is this the right road you preach about?

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

 

Tread treading and treading

Along the passages of your Nightweb

Tread of your soil

When the fruit of your plaguing white longings is ripe to harvest.

Is this not the wings of your vision?

 

My mother snarled not

Nor mauled, nor was belligerent

 

Of course she will snarl not

Nor maul, nor be belligerent:

She knows, before her footprint,

Of the unmanacled rainbow

When the epoch of the sun dawns.

 

 

 

 

 

Chidiebere Osita Igbo

Chidiebere Osita Igbo is professionally an astronomer, physicist, mathematician and a profound philosopher, but his intellectual activity and keen interest in literature makes him an eminent poet, playwright and novelist. A Nigerian-born polymath who also, as a scriptwriter, founded a film company producing and acting his plays and others.

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