By Uchendu Njionye 13 months ago


There are times solitude becomes magnetic  

& silence invite her foes to dinner. 

What becomes our peace when whirlwind chooses our abode to mate?  

We barter our homes for some glimpse of peace 

& perceive the soul heave relief.  


A cursed cock cracked his tenth birthday:

It has the baritone of a domed orphan;

The stiff neck of a transit mother;

And the chuckles of a man swallowing grief, 

Then his spirit became as clay from furnace. 


A boy woke by a corpse 

Before he  learnt to sit up right 

Saw men shovel six feet

Before he was able to dig up earth 

and  swallowed saliva 

Before he  knew it had an elder brother,  

Our toddling years 

Knew pious hearts in place of playing toys

& brooches, to me, were only exchanged at funerals. 


Two sank for his smooth sail off shores 

Same reason he's trinity:

A messiah, an omen, Restoration; 

of those waves that sailed me shores

And someday he'd rewrite his name

From Ozoemela to Afunwa Etcheta Nna. 

Uchendu kelechukwu  Njionye 



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