Best Achebe Poems
TELL THEM,ACHEBE TELL THEM
Tell them,Achebe tell them
That with bullets they may kill our bodies
But our proud spirit they will never fell!
That blind men too soon come to notice
The true self of those in office.
Achebe tell these politicians
That though we appear daft,we really are not.
And soon all shall see
The true extent of their rot
And greed insatiable even by the world's largest pot!
Achebe tell them we know
that this is not how to run government
And better a brother's sharp tongue
Than a peek under the Illusionist's tent.
We know.We know that this is not what Mama Africa meant.
We see,Achebe tell them
all the pomp and glitz and false glories galore
Tailored for Africa's able-bodied sons
To slowly lure them away from virtues of lore
So as to flood home with blood and rot.Into Africa's core.
Achebe tell them,O great Achebe
That we know what comes after this bend
Like clever,greedy hyenas
Dressed for the weekend
They will take you in with smiles,only to revel at your life's end!
Tell them,Achebe tell them
That with bullets they may kill our bodies
But our proud spirits they will never fell!
That blind men too soon come to notice
The true self of those in office.
The Iroko has transmuted
Chinua Achebe
Unending teacher
The gods have eaten your cake
But we still have it
Some with dirty hands
Stalking your pages
And others virgin hands
Talking your pages
With seething hope
Above you a shrine, a wreath of letters.
The father of stories
Where children never sleep
The auditorium where curtains never fall
The age mate of gems
The gods have eaten your cake
But we still have it
I could still remember that future banner
Fixed at the street of Anambra saying:
Welcome home, Achebe, "our great hero"
Anambra still mourn you, we mourn you
The British protected child born with African tradition.
Thousand years shall your words linger
In our minds and spirit, your legacy shall
Survive through the dying Anthill of the savannah.
Tears like raindrops falling down my eyes now;
As the thought of your undying memories remains,
A day without your face causes more harm to hearts.
Though we miss you here like dreams,
Though we drive not in your destination,
Many thought your names shall be forgotten
But we still have the paintings in the sky;
Paintings that says million of your proverbs.
We bring you home to rest in the bosom
Of your people whose eyes hope for tomorrow.
My desperate heart calls out your names to the wind;
My tears, agony and sorrow forms the rain in the sky.
I can look the sun in the face and fight for your sake,
Death has done us bad than good like sickness,
I imagine him from afar in my mind like a demon.
Homeless children roam here and there dared of him.
He who strips off a child's wrapper to orphan,
He who makes a man to go without his dreams,
He who never look at face before taking has taking
You home but we bring you home to rest; Achebe.
This I promise that the name Chinua shall forever
be engraved in the history of the world, never to be
Erased by any mortal.
The story of a strong man lost in hands of death,
Though it hurts, I draw those memories of him
From afar and nearby through the mainstreams.
We welcome you home through our watery eyes,
We flap our tears here and there to buttress our agony
Go in peace, Achebe, we shall sing praise of you
Here again and never stop singing again and again.
(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016
What a World!
By Izunna Okafor
Tears roll down my cheeks
Beholding the palm tree I tapped
From his knowledge of blue ink
With a bow, lofting off a huge gap
What a World !
Our intellectuals have all died
And the vase of wisdom dried up
The siege of our dear unbounded hist
Dusked and whisked away in a rueful tomb.
What a World !
In silence has the nature laid hold
Of the man I cherish so bold
Parting him behind our physical ears
And boiling us in the pot of rueful tears
What a World !
The wave blew aloud like a ruse
Kidnapping attentions as a tale
Only to jail some minds in her rue
Blinking as sorrows in the eyes of men
What a world !
We never expected an untimely departure
But that has reposed our penner in a mellow
For the time of men is tied to the nature
And our tears for the dead a show of sorrow
What a world!
The death has struck deep down our marrow
And incarcerated us to the jail of sorrow
We wail not that he was not old
But beside us lies an empty hole
Who then will satisfy our thirsty souls
What a World!
About the Poet:
Izunna Okafor is a Nigeria novelist, poet, journalist, essayist, publicist, administrator and an Igbo Language Activist who hails from Ebenator in Nnewi South Local Government Area of Anambra State.
He writes both in Igbo and English Languages, and has published enormously in both.
Izunna, a graduate of the Nnamdi Azikiwe University, is a recipient of over twenty literary awards, and has five published books to his credit, in addition to his online publications, which cut across Journalism and Creative Writing.
Contact Details:
Phone Number: 08163938811
E-mail: [email protected]
Bum! Bam!
The exixt of jokers,
They run for they shall not witness the coming of the Ijele
They say, "are we not masquerades? ain't the Ijele as Spirit as we are?"
But, their courage fell as the Ijele prepares to dance.
For he shall not dance in the glory of distractions.
The Ijele is a lone dancer!
Beautified in Glory,
Dotted by the colours of the rainbows,
Accentuated by the wisdom of no just sage,
He hungs on the escorts of the gods,
Led by a ready mortal, who counts as privilege his role.
The Ijele envelopes, swallows, captures, captivates.
He glows and graces forth and back, forth again!
His spectators rejoice in his spectacle.
They hold their breath and sing his praise.
They hunger more but the Ijele does not dance longer.
He leaves when the jaws are wide and the yearns louder.
Chaka! Chaka! Gbim! Gbam! Bum! Bam!
The Ijele doesn't dance twice
Yet, his appearance satisfies his patrons
Though they yearn for more still they rejoice in his glory!
Is Albert Chinualumogu Achebe not the Ijele?!
About the Poet
David +Nedu Okpokwasili is an Anambra-based Broadcast Journalist and writer who is driven by the need to bring social change. His articles explore themes that address the increasing "value crisis" that the society is passing through due to the global cultural exchange. David does not describe himself as a poet, but as a "sight-seeking sojourner". He wrote 'Ijele' after attending the 2019 Chinua Achebe Literary Festival which is a memorial event hosted in Awka by Izunna Okafor, Coordinator of Society of Young Nigerian Writers, Anambra State Chapter
Once upon a time in Nigeria
Lived a storyteller with a voice like the wind
His parables, like whispers, traveled far and wide
Touching every corner, stirring every mind.
He wrote of a land where the yam was king
Where the ancestors’ drums forever sing.
He told of Okonkwo, fierce and proud
In a village where voices rose clear and loud.
With Things Fall Apart, he tore down the veil
Unveiling truths buried deep in each tale.
He spoke of clashes, of struggle, and pain
Cultures colliding like thunder and rain.
Once upon a time in Nigeria, lived a man
Who awoke a continent, once tightly bound.
Through the pages of history, his voice ascends
A river of stories that flows without end.
MY WEDDING DAY
On my wedding day
I wore a pink suit
A white cuff links
With a black long sleeve.
I and my wife
Walked down the aisle
With hands held tight
And faces dazzling.
The rose flowers
The silvery crown
The sandhog shoe
All with effect blazing.