For in the hut, hunger came
striking us like the whooping crane
It flew in with its wings
flapping forlornly
...
I don¨t think what others are thinking
Because I don¨t think anyone should be thinking
What I am thinking
...
The bus with the sign, 'Wordsmiths' rode through
the wide-overgrown road
and songs ravaged in it
...
the lorry hauled us away
the boats ferried us far and wide
like the children of the leper
being driven beyond the echoes of the world
...
As I walked towards the tarred road in Delhi
eyes mottled, fingers pointed and words rolled
I talked to myself what this could mean
...
Born in 1988, Onyeka Nwelue was described by The Guardian (Lagos) as '...teenager with steaming pen' after his appearance at the Wole Soyinka Festival in 2004. He won the THOMSON Short Story Prize in 2000 with 'Chants of a Poet' which has been translated into over seven languages. He has published his works in the UK, the USA, France, Canada, Jamaica, South Africa and Nigeria. A multilingual poet, Nwelue has recently finished a novel, The Abyssinian Boy, a historical play, The Legend of Amadiora, a collection of poems, Ngwere and a musical play, The Talc. He has translated numerous works of arts and has written extensively on the arts for The Guardian and his interviews with some writers have appeared in the papers.)
Wings Of Hunger
For in the hut, hunger came
striking us like the whooping crane
It flew in with its wings
flapping forlornly
like the treasures of the world
And beside, lay Mother weeping
then on the floor, Brother lay
dead like a breathless horse
dead like a rat
and skinned like a kwashiorkor child
Its good am commenting on the young world proffessor Onyeka Nwelue, to me he is simply the best and 'a literary icon whose time has come'. I wish him all the best! !