john chizoba vincent

Gold Star - 15,719 Points (18 may 1990 / Aba, Abia stae)

Azuza - Poem by john chizoba vincent

Remember, we shall not walk like people without hope under the sun that curse our back in stupidity.
Remember the thunder boat was made to shield us
From the tears that wriggled at the sight of our agony.
If you leave us alone in this forest of sorrow and pain,
Who shall then come to our rescue before sunset?

Let it be told that we have no deaf gods in our land;
Break into the space of our virgin land and make it
Fertile, couple the rain into twos to water our land.
Remember here our grand fathers dance in your upliftment and grace upon this land of peace.
We wait here in the otherside where men smile without their teeth and tongue being expose to the bastard earth; for he is an orphan whose mother died during his birth and his father, when he heard he was born.

We have climb the mountain and the hill beckon us
To come and see the water that is left weeping at the outcast of the village.
Azuza! Azuza! ! Mother said you are a good master but a bad servent and father said, your loins deceived them during the harvest of their tomorrow's joy.
When the air shall resurrent and see hope, your heart shall be it clapping ground and your mouth, an umbrella that will educate it of what the future say.

Is there any woman whose dreams come to pass?
Is there any woman without a labour pain?
Remember, you created forgetfulness because of labour pains among the women fold.
When last did you remember the pains of labour?
Why did your sons use our tears as wine and tea?
We chew stones and you are happy and joyful,
The roof of your eyes now behold our back with untouchable monster strips that sour the eyes.
Your laughter opens the womb of mother earth to her fury to consume us and rejoice.

Why have you decided to treat us thou like a lepel?
Our forebears once stood here to slain goats for you,
Why do you want to turn our heads to the back?
What have we done before the morning flowers?
Can we confront you? No! we are not up to that standard in our quest for freedom as humans.
It is an indefinite boast of ignorance to those that says we do not know where the gods live; that shall not be our tale before the moon.

Topic(s) of this poem: tradition

Form: Free Verse

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, January 17, 2016

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 11, 2016

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