"nkporo" poems
Of those things that glamour for clarity
Of those roads that sipped dead calls
Of those shadows that retrieved retributions panache of the smoke that chased blunt images,
We are here for the death of our dead ones,
We are here to breeze out bodies from the ghost of our forefathers giving out beggars of spirits.
We are here for the sake of humanism and individualism found among the seasoned weather.
We are here to head home from the figures of fingers crossed in the blossoming crossroads.
We are just here for your sake &your future.
We are this spiced pumpkin skin driving impunity,
Driving the heavens of our lunatic fringe benefits.
When these spirits visited our forebearers,
We called them runners of evil in the night,
In the morning, we called them cats of love,
But the white brought a foreign god to us
We sold our shrine of mystic miseries to them
Now, they took our miseries to make names
And we transport their stupidity back to them
Thinking that they will accept it back from us.
This celestial aboundment is foregone fire
Forging the spirit of the world into our curriculum.
We are the timeless wrong that the villagers sing of along the Abiriba-Nkporo road.
Black Butler of generational curse we brought
Intentionally trying to visit the future vintages.
We are the cause of our own blood spilling through the thin walls of our shadows and spirits.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_frustrations
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
NKPORO II
In proportion to the gospel of man about creation
& evolution & sand of time,
living in Nigeria is to **** like Osama Bin Laden without origin of profile,
& give your heart to crulty. Man down,
Father picked up the apple for me his good--for-nothing-child; a living dead.
non-living son.
What do we do with this land of ours, Nkporo? I asked my brethren!
I believe you have me, Nkporo.
I believe in dying & leaving a clean footprint.
make life a garden or a glorious victories
& harvest the good thereof in the hands of your grace.
You're magical, Nkporo...
I don't believe in living to die today but dying to live again,
I believe in the depth of nothing; an empty house full of dreams.
And she told me no place like home!
©John Chizoba Vincent
#TheSage
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 4:42 AM UTC