Homeland & Other PoemsIfowodo was a frontline student leader in the early eighties and is a lawyer and civil rights activist. In 1996 he was a writer-in-residence at the Heinrich Boell Foundation. He was imprisoned between 1997 and 1998 and was subsequently adopted by PEN. This is his first collection of poetry which won the 1993 Association of Nigerian Authors Poetry Prize. Many of the poems are responses to politics; or spring from the tensions between writing political poetry, or art for art's sake, and other competing subjects of poetry, such as romantic love. The poet, quoting Neruda, first asks the reader expecting a poetic celebration of his natural world to 'come see the blood in the streets'. In the section section he writes tributes to Tracey Chapman, Winnie and Nelson Mandela and Margeret Thatcher ('the butcher'). The subject of the third section is the rediscovery of romantic love, amidst and beyond turmoil and oppression. |
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Page 13
... brows when you turn taps and fetch full rust each day in a year do you gather maidens to balance pots on heads to seek out streams or uproot your home to resettle by rivers ? When the sky claps to call down rain rush out all vessels and ...
... brows when you turn taps and fetch full rust each day in a year do you gather maidens to balance pots on heads to seek out streams or uproot your home to resettle by rivers ? When the sky claps to call down rain rush out all vessels and ...
Page 66
... brows of their questioning brambles , long enough to burnish sprouting hearts . The space you left behind has stretched itself into a street which was the beginning . I greet that street now with the spark of a fire lit in handshake ...
... brows of their questioning brambles , long enough to burnish sprouting hearts . The space you left behind has stretched itself into a street which was the beginning . I greet that street now with the spark of a fire lit in handshake ...
Page 69
... brows . We need not cast cowries for this , nor wait for the hollow auguries of government , a prophecy of life after this death is belled to your full hips . VII Come rest then on the crackling twigs of my arms let them burst alive ...
... brows . We need not cast cowries for this , nor wait for the hollow auguries of government , a prophecy of life after this death is belled to your full hips . VII Come rest then on the crackling twigs of my arms let them burst alive ...
Contents
For arts sake | 11 |
Poem to the child of my time | 32 |
Mandelas mantle | 41 |
Copyright | |
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anger anguish arms asked August battle bear beast beneath bitter bleeding blood bones break breath broken brows carved cast child close colours count crocodiles cross daily dance death December deep dust dying earth evil eyes face fading faith fear feet fire flesh flowing forest gathered graves grow guns hand harvest head hear heart heat hope horns January kill laughter lay dying leaves light living marched mark memory mouth muscle needing night pain past paths plead pledged POEMS poetry poison prize rain rising rivers roads sadness sand season seek serve shadow soldier song Soon sorrows soul space stars stone streets surer taste tears teeth terror things thirst tongue tree truth turn voice walk walls wear weeping whip wider winds wondered wounds