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Call me Chinua Achebe from  dead,
Take me home to Wole Soyinka' bosom 
Bundle me to John Clarks at his castle;
They infected me with this madness,
Madness of words that get me focus.


I have been stripped by their words of wisdom,
I feel like a bird without wings to fly home.
Maybe out of chaos comes orderliness of me,
Maybe I should brandish my tears to them
Before counting the scars they created within.


Louder have I recited the queen of them all,
Her words tortured me to get more wisdom.
Chimamanda, where have thou kept my soul?
I seek back my sanity chasing your words
In my nightmare with a sombre thought.


A while ago you made my hair stood still,
What manner of man are thou that my eyes 
Clamour to bewitched by thy wisdom of solomon?
Oh Eriata Oribhabor, you made me mad again
Ripping of my veil to unveil my weakness!


Help  tell Buchi Emecheta of the south,
The only lady of my eyes taste to learn!
Tell it to her that I am ready to dance through
The lyrical venoms that build up her muse.
I am ready for a dance of nobility with her. 


I sing not alone in the legged forest of life!
When the song I sing to is the seed I sow,
Then I will dance without my legs with me.
When your lyrics caress every part of me,
I will run to your abode, Niyi Osundare!


I choose to dance to your tune Femi!
I choose to worship at thy feet Osofisan! 
Great shall my rewards be granted when
I see through the eyes of your pen to write.
Knowing your words travel not in the land
Of no return.


I choose to sing to your rhythms one day,
Through the eyes of your words to stand.
I will always dance more when the drums
And her drumer goes to the market place,
And the flutist accomapny me with a savored 
Rhythm breaking the heart of mother earth.



(C) John Chizoba Vincent
     Voice Of Vincent 2016
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