"1441" "My Ancestors Anxiousness" And Other Three Poems By John Chinaka Onyeche — Pawners Paper

The indefinite that became definite, You could have looked for a way out. Bringing with you to my ancestors,

John Chinaka, the poet, could be said to be the "watch man of the black continent" as his lines transports the readers' minds back in time to reveal moments that dictated and radically influenced the Africans present and culture. In "My Ancestors Anxiousness", he criticized the past leaders or trading the land and their kinsmen for stipends due to greed, while "1441" also shares similar, but a bit different theme as it geared more toward slavery and the crude of the colonial masters.

The elixir of perfection wasn't entirely left out as it reflected in "For You My Life". Also, "In When You Write", the poet tells the popular story every writer tells as he ends with "your poem is your soul speaking".  The last poem, "Holy Edifice" gives a deep insight into religion, doctrines and religion houses.

John Chinaka was able to make the taste go round!

FOR YOU MY WIFE 

This is a rose for you 

From the hills of the eastern lands 

These white petals  

Drip waters that heal 

Savour its ancient perfume

The scent of frosted air

The morning dew in winter 

I bring this rose home 

To care for it as it grows 

Rejoice in all that it tells of love 

Of the eastern lands

Of longing and adventure 

Till the end of my days

Here is the rose 

We both will love 

MY ANCESTORS ANXIOUSNESS 

In their anxiousness to win favours, 

In the eyes of the navigators, men across the sea 

They gave them, our most valued possessions 

Our young and vibrant men and women 

The strength of our fatherland, 

Even the gods were silent and blind 

Remembering not our dances at full moon 

And we became like birds without nets 

For the prince over the sea foresees 

My ancestors and their anxiousness 

He found nothing else to equal his favour

But the strength of his fatherland 

The nourished bull milked to death at will 

African young men and women 

Shipped across the high Atlantic sea 

Some against their own will cries 

And many for the evil sown as conquest 

Voluntary many on board the ship no return 

In my ancestor's anxiousness to gain 

From the men at the seashore as gods 

He gave his land for exploitation and siege 

Human and natural resources exploits 

Our devotion to worship the gods 

In turn diverted to the men seen at the sea

In their anxiousness to gain, Africans sold their future

1441

The indefinite that became definite, 

You could have looked for a way out. 

Bringing with you to my ancestors, 

Good news instead of humiliations. 

You are a curse to events of time alas! 

Antam, you who hunted to and fro, 

The sea lions in the souls of kinsmen, 

You hunted them like a good hunter, 

As their valued labouring as the oil, 

And their blood on the vessels cries, 

Africa is hunted as sea lions ashore. 

Rio de Oro the land where stood first, 

Prester John the legendary priest of Africa, 

At your name men were captured alas! 

Looked upon to see if they could find you, 

Men presented to you oh! Prince Henry, 

For we understand humanity at heart, 

You rather have chosen to raid and enslave us, 

Quest for annihilation of a people. 

1434, the footsteps seen at the shore, 

They were not the lion skins you seek, but of my kinsmen's backs you torn, 

1441 the blood of my ancestors dirge 

Flowing at the Atlantic Ocean red 

They were not the oil of the sea lions 

Their gold in your quest you made them cry

Your poems turned you 

They tell the hidden truths 

Leaving no stones unturned 

As the wit flows from within 

They unveils mysteries of life 

Just like the rivers flows 

From the hills of Lebanon, down 

Every drops waters the desert 

You free yourself from thoughts 

Thousands of them that entangles 

The realities within your heart speaks

Write them down as it bubbles 

Within your hearts are sparks 

There are souls it becomes a balm to 

Healing their broken hearted 

Like the life giving water is placed 

On the tip-top of a dying man's lips 

Reviving and revitalizing the whole 

Causing life to be found again 

Your poem is your soul speaking

HOLY EDIFICE 

Holy edifices built not with fist 

/ above humans destructions 

Lies the glorious souls of men 

/ the holy temple of the lord 

Not houses built by men 

/ where dwells hypocrisy 

Impure thoughts and desires 

/ to hurt one's neighbours 

Such is not a perfect fit  

/ for God dwells within purity

Holy edifice built not edifice 

/ physical to men glory in view 

But daily revisiting the abode 

/ where the indwelling dwells 

Spirit and invisibility anchors

POET'S BIO

John Chinaka Onyeche (Rememberajc) is a poet from Nigeria, writing from the metropolitan city of Port Harcourt Rivers State. 

He is an undergraduate student at Ignatius Ajuru University Of Education Port Harcourt Rivers State, Nigeria. 

He is Pursuing his first degree in History and Diplomatic Studies 

His writings are more on spoken word poetry, and has appeared on many journals and online publication websites, and publishers has his works published within Nigeria and outside. Places like, 

Spillwords.com |Melbourne culture corner |Nnoko.org|TunaFishjournal.com|Olympiapublishers.com|Moreporkpress.com|Nymphspublications.com|Ethelzine.com|Youthmagazine.com|Acumen.co.uk

John Chinaka Onyeche (Rememberajc) loves to pen down every thought of his heart as a young man and he wishes to be found in the soil of literary world some day as he works on his first poetry collection titled: I AM FINDING MYSELF

Facebook.com/jehovahisgood 

Twitter.com/apostlejohnchin