JOHN CHINAKA ONYECHE
Poet Feature - September 2021
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 have appeared in many journals/magazines online within and outside Nigeria.
Places like Spillwords, Melbourne culture corner, Nnoko, TunaFishjournal, Moreporkpress, Nymphspublications, Ethelzine, Youthmagazine, Acumen, Zindaily, pawnerspaper and conceitmagazine.
John Chinaka Onyeche (Rememberajc) loves to pen down every thought of his heart and he wishes to be found in the soil of literary world someday as he works on his first poetry collection titled: I AM FINDING MYSELF
https://www.facebook.com/Jehovahisgood/
FEATURED POETRY
MY ANCESTOR'S 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 the full moon
And we became like birds without nests
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 cried
And many for the evil sown as conquest
Volunteered on board the ship of 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 exploited
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 the 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,
Valuing their labour 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 the annihilation of people.
1434, the footsteps are 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 in the Atlantic Ocean red
They were not the oil of the sea lions
Their gold, in your quest you made them cry
FRIENDS OF TIME
Friends of time
Years in number row
we count the stars
With our backs lay on
The ground we rolled out
Like rains in the skies
Falling to make mighty
Ocean on the earth surface
The paths we trod on
Friends of time
We stood hands round held
With fist pointing upwards
Gazing at the glittering moon
The wake of a new era echoes
We see the moon is older now
But our love withstood times
Friends of time
In the washing sand, we built
Our homes like memory lines
The abode we reside not in
Because it washed off on our wake
Trees we climbed together tells
Memories are to be a reminiscence
Friends of time
In time we wandered like
From whence the time goes
Like a push, it aimed at us
With just a push we launched in
Like strangers, we staggered
And time tells what becomes of us
Friends of time
In wars, we lay behind
Each other we fought with joy
Glancing at each other's face
The hope of victory in this battle assured
The realities of love surpassed wars
Lite the candle again tonight
Beam the rays of this light
Friends of time
DYING LOVE
There was a time your portrait
Is on this wall end hang as
The most prestigious award
That I won your heart at last
Each night before my sleep
I would gait tiptoeing there
Having a gaze at the image
The only imprint you left off
The echoes of the night birds
And fears of your preference
Of wealth over true love sting
As the walls rheum in dust
The cracks at the spot where
You left the only remembrance
The choice portrait of yourself
They speak of your dying love