ya, beautiful poem by all standard!

heard the idea was conceived when Clark had problem with another notable person during the war
i think he left the person behind or something like that
but he was just telling the person that we are all victims of war.

there is this other poem we also read but it is a foreign one
talking about a pilot , i think
he was saying that ' the ones i kill i do not hate, the ones i kill for i do not love etc

another great poem!

Casualties by J P Clark.

[Quote]


AFRICA MY AFRICA

Africa of proud warriors in ancestral savannahs

Africa of whom my grandmother sings
On the banks of the distant river.

I have never known you
But your blood flows in my veins,

Your beautiful black blood that
irrigates the fields,

The blood of your sweat

The sweat of your work

The work of your slavery

The slavery of your children

Africa tell me Africa
Is this your back that is bent?

This back that breaks under the
weight of humilation

This back trembling with red scars
And saying yes to whip under the midday sun,

But a grave voice answers me

Impetuous child that tree young and strong
That tree over there
Splendidly alone amidst white and faded flowers,

That is your Africa springing up anew
Springing up patiently obstinately
Whose fruits bit by bit acquire
The bitter taste of liberty [/quote]

Learnt this poem in high school. And it is still one of my favourites.

It was written by David Diop.

Labyrinths by Chris Okigbo is another favourite.

laudate

Labyrinths by Chris Okigbo is another favourite.

please, car you jar our memory by reproducing this poem? PLEASE.
i love Africa very much too.

did you know that David Diop, the Senegalese Poet died in 1960, by a plane crash?

well,to me,ABIKU by soyinka is nice but something close to incantation in yoruba mythology.have u read HEAVENSGATE by chris okigbo ?the poem is tight,very tight.about nigerian poets,i love clark,okigbo,soyinka and okara in that order.chao

Abiku  
 In vain your bangles cast

Charmed circles at my feet;

I am Abiku, calling for the first

And the repeated time.



Must I weep for goats and cowries

For palm oil and the sprinkled ash?

Yams do not sprout in amulets

To earth Abiku's limbs.



So when the snail is burnt in his shell

Whet the heated fragments, brand me

Deeply on the breast. You must know him

When Abiku calls again.



I am the squirrel teeth, cracked

The riddle of the palm. Remember

This, and dig me deeper still into

The god's swollen foot.



Once and the repeated time, ageless

Though I puke. And when you pour

Libations, each finger points me near

The way I came, where



The ground is wet with mourning

White dew suckles flesh-birds

Evening befriends the spider, trapping

Flies in wind-froth;



Night, and Abiku sucks the oil

From lamps. Mother! I'll be the

Supplicant snake coiled on the doorstep

Yours the killing cry.



The ripes fruit was saddest;

Where I crept, the warmth was cloying.

In the silence of webs, Abiku moans, shaping

Mounds from the yolk.

          By: Wole Soyinka


boastful, mystical, mysterious, diabolical, awe inspiring, this poem is hardly an incantation.

i just stumbled on a couple of poems that were really delighful in those days.

WE HAVE COME HOME by Lenri Peters
SEASONS     By Wole Soyinka
THE CALL OF THE RIVER NUN Gabriel Opkara
IBADAN  by J P Clark
OLOKUN
STREAMSIDE EXCHANGE all by Prof J.P Clark


Streamside Exchange  

 Child: River bird, river bird,

Sitting all day long

On hook over grass,

River bird, river bird,

Sing to me a song

Of all that pass

And say,

will mother come back today?

Bird: You cannot know

And should not bother;

Tide and market come and go

And so shall your mother,

By: J.P. Clark

Where is my generation of poets? what is happening? wasted generation are we? i hope not, i believe we are not.
Niyi Oshundare and co., w`sup?

Knotty,

Labyrinths is a collection of Chris okigbo's poems. Which one of those poems would you like me to paste up here?

wow!

The truth is that our generation of Nigerian poets are being stifled to creative inactivity by the debilitating forces of academic decadence and cultural alienation. Our present society can boast of very little to promote or even support poetic creativity.

2007 to 2010 ending?
something must have been lost in our collective literary awareness.
what new great stuff is coming out of our clime?
i am wondering.

i have a collection of poems i did in my secondary and A level days. i shall be beading home by Xmas with the hope i can lay my hands on them. if i do, we shall all enjoy them here together.