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Chinua Achebe 1
Collected Poems 2
3
4
Chinua Achebe was born in Nigeria in . He was raised in the large 5
village of Ogidi, one of the first centers of Anglican missionary work 6
in eastern Nigeria, and is a graduate of University College, Ibadan. 7
His early career in radio ended abruptly in , when he left 8
his post as director of external broadcasting in Nigeria during the
9
national upheaval that led to the Biafran War. He was appointed sen-
ior research fellow at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and began 10
lecturing widely abroad. 11
From  to , and again from  to , Mr. Achebe 12
was professor of English at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, 13
and also for one year at the University of Connecticut, Storrs. 14
Cited in the London Sunday Times as one of the “, Makers 15
of the Twentieth Century” for defining “a modern African literature 16
that was truly African” and thereby making “a major contribution to
17
world literature,” Chinua Achebe has published novels, short stories,
essays, and children’s books. His volume of poetry Christmas in Biafra
18
and Other Poems, written during the Biafran War, was the joint win- 19
ner of the first Commonwealth Poetry Prize. Of his novels, Arrow of 20
God won the New Statesman–Jock Campbell Award, and Anthills of 21
the Savannah was a finalist for the  Booker Prize. 22
Mr. Achebe has received numerous honors from around the 23
world, including the Honorary Fellowship of the American Acad- 24
emy of Arts and Letters and Foreign Honorary Membership of the
25
American Academy of Arts and Sciences, as well as more than thirty
26
honorary doctorates from universities in England, Scotland, the United
States, Canada, Nigeria, and South Africa. He is also the recipient of 27
Nigeria’s highest honor for intellectual achievement, the Nigerian 28
National Order of Merit, and of Germany’s Friedenpreis des Deutschen 29
Buchhandels for . 30
Mr. Achebe lives with his wife in Annandale-on-Hudson, 31
New York, where they teach at Bard College. They have four chil- 32r
dren and three grandchildren. 33l

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1
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5 Also by Chinua Achebe
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9 Anthills of the Savannah
10 The Sacrificial Egg and Other Stories
11 Things Fall Apart
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No Longer at Ease
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14 Chike and the River
15 A Man of the People
16 Arrow of God
17 Girls at War and Other Stories
18 Christmas in Biafra and Other Poems
19
Beware Soul Brother
20
21 Morning Yet on Creation Day
22 The Trouble with Nigeria
23 The Flute
24 The Drum
25
Hopes and Impediments
26
How the Leopard Got His Claws (with John Iroaganachi)
27
28 Winds of Change: Modern Short Stories
29 from Black Africa (with others)
30 African Short Stories (editor, with C. L. Innes)
31 Another Africa (with Robert Lyons)
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Home and Exile
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1
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Collected Poems 5
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Chinua Achebe 9
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Anchor Books 30
a division of random house, inc. 31
new york 32r
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1
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6 an anchor books orig inal, august 20 04
7 Copyright © 1971, 1973, 2004 by Chinua Achebe
8
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American
9 Copyright Conventions. Published in the United States
10 by Anchor Books, a division of Random House, Inc.,
New York.
11
12 Anchor Books and colophon are registered trademarks
of Random House, Inc.
13
14 The poem “Mango Seedling” was first published in The New York
Review of Books in  and was dedicated to the memory of the
15 poet Christopher Okigbo. “Those Gods Are Children” first appeared
16 in somewhat different form in The Conch, “Love Song (for Anna)”
17 in Zuka, “Their Idiot Song” in Transition, “Knowing Robs Us” and
“The Nigerian Census” in Callaloo, and “Flying,” “Agostinho Neto,”
18 and “Pine Tree in Spring” in Agni. A good number of the others
19 have appeared in Okike: An African Journal of New Writing and in
20 Christmas in Biafra and Other Poems.
21 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
22 Achebe, Chinua.
[Poems]
23 Collected poems / Chinua Achebe.
24 p. cm.
25 ISBN --- (pbk.)
. Nigeria—Poetry. I. Title.
26 PR..AA 
27 '.—dc
28 

29 Book design by Rebecca Aidlin

30 www.anchorbooks.com
31 Printed in the United States of America
r32          
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To the Memory of My Mother 5
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Contents 5
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In Lieu of a Preface: A Parable ix 9
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Prologue
11
1966  12
Benin Road  13
Mango Seedling  14
Pine Tree in Spring  15
The Explorer  16
17
Agostinho Neto 
18
Poems About War 19
The First Shot  20
A Mother in a Refugee Camp  21
22
Christmas in Biafra (1969) 
23
Air Raid 
24
Biafra, 1969  25
An “If” of History  26
Remembrance Day  27
A Wake for Okigbo  28
After a War  29
30
Poems Not About War 31
Love Song ( for Anna)  32r
Love Cycle  33l

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conte nts

1 Question 
2 Answer 
3 Beware, Soul Brother 
4
NON-commitment 
5
Generation Gap 
6
7 Misunderstanding 
8 Knowing Robs Us 
9 Bull and Egret 
10 Lazarus 
11 Vultures 
12
Public Execution in Pictures 
13
14 Gods, Men, and Others
15 Penalty of Godhead 
16 Those Gods Are Children 
17
Lament of the Sacred Python 
18
Their Idiot Song 
19
20 The Nigerian Census 
21 Flying 
22
Epilogue
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He Loves Me; He Loves Me Not 
24
25 Dereliction 
26 We Laughed at Him 
27
28
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30 Notes 
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In Lieu of a Preface: A Parable 5
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The Author had begun to worry about his own conduct. Per- 9
haps he had not been fair to his poems. Yes, the same poetry 10
that had surged from the depths to bring pain-soaked solace in 11
the breach and darkness of civil war. Now he had stepped out 12
alone into the light. 13
Everyone knows, of course, that an author cannot possi- 14
bly bring things to such a pass unaided. He had plenty of help 15
from his then Publisher, who filled the role of primary culprit, 16
leaving the Author with the guilt only of acquiescence and 17
quietude. For, in truth, the Author had raised the matter of his 18
poems now and again with the Publisher, aloof in his towers 19
and battlements in distant London, unready for strange images 20
and cadences; and his reply had always been a telegraphic non 21
sequitur: We do very well with your novels, you know. 22
In time the poems, like all children reared in hardship, 23
grew tougher and wiser than their peers. They figured out that 24
as offspring of a heedless parent they were fated to find their 25
own way in the world. Their unguided wandering before long 26
brought them face-to-face with a magician, Negative Capa- 27
bility, the holy man of the forest, shaggy-haired powered for eternal 28
replenishment, alias Man Pass Man; and he blessed their struggle. 29
They went out early one morning in search of validation 30
and returned at nightfall singing and dancing and bearing aloft 31
the trophy of Commonwealth Poetry. A few ripples, but no 32r
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i n l i e u o f a p r e f ac e : a pa ra b l e

1 waves. They contrived something breathtakingly audacious:

2 they got Her Britannic Majesty to invoke six of their lines to
3 end a royal admonition to her Commonwealth in crisis. Remem-
4 ber also your children for they in their time . . .
5 More ripples, but hardly any waves. If the Publisher heard
6 any of it he kept the news to himself, and kept also his blurb
7 on the book of poems in which he absentmindedly praised the
8 novels.
9 What happened next is not very clear, though there is no
10 lack of speculation. The one certain fact, however, is that the
11 poems went silent. Did they go underground, as one rather
12 romantic commentator would have it, to cultivate a secret
13 guild of readers? Nobody can really say. The Author does recall,
14 however, that at about this time he had begun to observe
15 increasing numbers of intense-looking men and women in his
16 audiences who would go up to the dais at the end of a reading
17 and ask—or even demand—to know where to find the book
18 he read from.
19 An American photographer with a fine portfolio of
20 African material came on the scene at this time with a request
21 to the Author for collaboration. So impressed was the Author
22 by the photographs that he readily agreed to contribute to a
23 catalog of their exhibition, and became joint author of a mag-
24 nificent coffee-table book with the beguiling title of Another
25 Africa. In his enthusiasm he found himself traveling across the
26 United States to Seattle and Portland, Oregon, to read and
27 speak at the exhibition.
28 And then things took a sudden, unexpected turn. The
29 Author received an urgent call from a lady who identified her-
30 self as Curator of Another Africa exhibition, now showing in a
31 major museum in the Midwest, in a city that had better remain
r32 nameless. She wanted to know from the Author how she
l33 might get hold of his book of poems in a hurry.

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i n l i e u o f a p r e f ac e : a pa ra b l e

- Why in a hurry? 1
- Because visitors to the exhibition are taking away 2
your poems from the catalog. 3
4
- Taking away my poems, how?
5
- Ripping them out. And carrying them away. 6
- My gentle readers? Oh, dear! 7
8
- What’s that?
9
- Never mind. 10
11
The Author has at last found a new Publisher who, 12
unaware of these events, has set about publishing his collected 13
poems. The Author, suitably chastened, is dreaming of a new 14
day when peace will return to the affair of books, to wit: writ- 15
ing, publishing, and reading. 16
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Prologue 9
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1966 5
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absentminded 9
our thoughtless days 10
sat at dire controls 11
and played indolently 12
13
slowly downward in remote 14
subterranean shaft 15
a diamond-tipped 16
drill point crept closer 17
to residual chaos to 18
rare artesian hatred 19
that once squirted warm 20
blood in God’s face 21
confirming His first 22
disappointment in Eden 23
24
Nsukka, November 19, 1971 25
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

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5 Benin Road
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9 Speed is violence
10 Power is violence
11 Weight violence
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13 The butterfly seeks safety in lightness
14 In weightless, undulating flight
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16 But at a crossroads where mottled light
17 From old trees falls on a brash new highway
18 Our separate errands collide
19
20 I come power-packed for two
21 And the gentle butterfly offers
22 Itself in bright yellow sacrifice
23 Upon my hard silicon shield.
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collecte d poems

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Mango Seedling 5
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Through glass windowpane 9
Up a modern office block 10
I saw, two floors below, on wide-jutting 11
concrete canopy a mango seedling newly sprouted 12
Purple, two-leafed, standing on its burst 13
Black yolk. It waved brightly to sun and wind 14
Between rains—daily regaling itself 15
On seed yams, prodigally. 16
For how long? 17
How long the happy waving 18
From precipice of rainswept sarcophagus? 19
How long the feast on remnant flour 20
At pot bottom? 21
Perhaps like the widow 22
Of infinite faith it stood in wait 23
For the holy man of the forest, shaggy-haired 24
Powered for eternal replenishment. 25
Or else it hoped for Old Tortoise’s miraculous feast 26
On one ever recurring dot of cocoyam 27
Set in a large bowl of green vegetables— 28
This day beyond fable, beyond faith? 29
Then I saw it 30
Poised in courageous impartiality 31
Between the primordial quarrel of Earth 32r
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

1 And Sky striving bravely to sink roots

2 Into objectivity, midair in stone.
3
4 I thought the rain, prime mover
5 To this enterprise, someday would rise in power
6 And deliver its ward in delirious waterfall
7 Toward earth below. But every rainy day
8 Little playful floods assembled on the slab,
9 Danced, parted round its feet,
10 United again, and passed.
11 It went from purple to sickly green
12 Before it died.
13 Today I see it still—
14 Dry, wire-thin in sun and dust of the dry months—
15 Headstone on tiny debris of passionate courage.
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17 Aba, 1968
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collecte d poems

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Pine Tree in Spring 5
( for Leon Damas) 6
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Pine tree 9
flag bearer 10
of green memory 11
across the breach of a desolate hour 12
13
Loyal tree 14
that stood guard 15
alone in austere emeraldry 16
over Nature’s recumbent standard 17
18
Pine tree 19
lost now in the shade 20
of traitors decked out flamboyantly 21
marching back unabashed to the colors they betrayed 22
23
Fine tree 24
erect and trustworthy 25
what school can teach me 26
your silent, stubborn fidelity? 27
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

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5 The Explorer
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9 Like a dawn unheralded at midnight
10 it opened abruptly before me—a rough
11 circular clearing, high cliffs of deep
12 forest guarding it in amber-tinted spell
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14 A long journey’s end it was though how
15 long and from where seemed unclear,
16 unimportant; one fact alone mattered
17 now—that body so well preserved
18 which on seeing I knew had brought me there
19
20 The circumstance of death
21 was vague but a floating hint
22 pointed to a disaster in the air
23 elusively
24
25 But where, if so, the litter
26 of violent wreckage? That rough-edged
27 gypsum trough bearing it like a dead
28 chrysalis reposing till now in full
29 encapsulation was broken by a cool
30 hand for this lying in state. All else
31 was in order except the leg missing
r32 neatly at knee joint
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collecte d poems

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even the white schoolboy dress 9
immaculate in the thin yellow 10
light; the face in particular 11
was perfect having caught nor fear 12
nor agony at the fatal moment. 13
14
Clear-sighted with a clarity 15
rarely encountered in dreams 16
my Explorer-Self stood a little 17
distant but somewhat fulfilled; behind 18
him a long misty quest: unanswered 19
questions put to sleep needing 20
no longer to be raised. Enough 21
in that trapped silence of a freak 22
dawn to come face-to-face suddenly 23
with a body I didn’t even know 24
I lost. 25
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

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5 Agostinho Neto
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9 Neto, were you no more
10 Than the middle one favored by fortune
11 In children’s riddle; Kwame
12 Striding ahead to accost
13 Demons; behind you a laggard third
14 As yet unnamed, of twisted fingers?
15
16 No! Your secure strides
17 Were hard earned. Your feet
18 Learned their fierce balance
19 In violent slopes of humiliation;
20 Your delicate hands, patiently
21 Groomed for finest incisions,
22 Were commandeered brusquely to kill,
23 Your melodious voice to battle cry.
24
25 Perhaps your family and friends
26 Knew a merry flash cracking the gloom
27 We see in pictures but I prefer
28 And will keep the darker legend.
29 For I have seen how
30 Half a millennium of alien rape
31 And murder can stamp a smile
r32 On the vacant face of the fool,
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collecte d poems

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The sinister grin of Africa’s idiot-kings 9
Who oversee in obscene palaces of gold 10
The butchery of their own people. 11
12
Neto, I sing your passing, I, 13
Timid requisitioner of your vast 14
Armory’s most congenial supply. 15
What shall I sing? A dirge answering 16
The gloom? No, I will sing tearful songs 17
Of joy; I will celebrate 18
The Man who rode a trinity 19
Of awesome fates to the cause 20
Of our trampled race! 21
Thou Healer, Soldier, and Poet! 22
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Poems About War 9
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The First Shot 5
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That lone rifle-shot anonymous 9
in the dark striding chest-high 10
through a nervous suburb at the break 11
of our season of thunders will yet 12
steep its flight and lodge 13
more firmly than the greater noises 14
ahead in the forehead of memory. 15
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

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5 A Mother in a Refugee Camp
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9 No Madonna and Child could touch
10 Her tenderness for a son
11 She soon would have to forget. . . .
12 The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
13 Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
14 And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
15 Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
16 Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
17 She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
18 And in her eyes the memory
19 Of a mother’s pride. . . . She had bathed him
20 And rubbed him down with bare palms.
21 She took from their bundle of possessions
22 A broken comb and combed
23 The rust-colored hair left on his skull
24 And then—humming in her eyes—began carefully to part it.
25 In their former life this was perhaps
26 A little daily act of no consequence
27 Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
28 Like putting flowers on a tiny grave.
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collecte d poems

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Christmas in Biafra (1969) 5
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This sunken-eyed moment wobbling 9
down the rocky steepness on broken 10
bones slowly fearfully to hideous 11
concourse of gathering sorrows in the valley 12
will yet become in another year a lost 13
Christmas irretrievable in the heights 14
its exploding inferno transmuted 15
by cosmic distances to the peacefulness 16
of a cool twinkling star. . . . To death-cells 17
of that moment came faraway sounds of other 18
men’s carols floating on crackling waves 19
mocking us. With regret? Hope? Longing? None of 20
these, strangely, not even despair rather 21
distilling pure transcendental hate . . . 22
23
Beyond the hospital gate 24
the good nuns had set up a manger 25
of palms to house a fine plastercast 26
scene at Bethlehem. The Holy 27
Family was central, serene, the Child 28
Jesus plump wise-looking and rose-cheeked; one 29
of the magi in keeping with legend 30
a black Othello in sumptuous robes. Other 31
figures of men and angels stood 32r
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1 at well-appointed distances from

2 the heart of the divine miracle
3 and the usual cattle gazed on
4 in holy wonder. . . .
5
6 Poorer than the poor worshippers
7 before her who had paid their homage
8 with pitiful offering of new aluminum
9 coins that few traders would take and
10 a frayed five-shilling note she only
11 crossed herself and prayed open-eyed. Her
12 infant son flat like a dead lizard
13 on her shoulder his arms and legs
14 cauterized by famine was a miracle
15 of its kind. Large sunken eyes
16 stricken past boredom to a flat
17 unrecognizing glueyness moped faraway
18 motionless across her shoulder. . . .
19
20 Now her adoration over
21 she turned him around and pointed
22 at those pretty figures of God
23 and angels and men and beasts—
24 a spectacle to stir the heart
25 of a child. But all he vouchsafed
26 was one slow deadpan look of total
27 unrecognition and he began again
28 to swivel his enormous head away
29 to mope as before at his empty distance. . . .
30 She shrugged her shoulders, crossed
31 herself again, and took him away.
r32
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1
2
3
4
Air Raid 5
6
7
8
It comes so quickly 9
the bird of death 10
from evil forests of Soviet technology 11
12
A man crossing the road 13
to greet a friend 14
is much too slow. 15
His friend cut in halves 16
has other worries now 17
than a friendly handshake 18
at noon. 19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 Biafra, 1969
6
7
8
9 First time Biafra
10 Was here, we’re told, it was a fine
11 Figure massively hewn in hardwood.
12
13 Voracious white ants
14 Set upon it and ate
15 Through its huge emplaced feet
16 To the great heart abandoning
17 A furrowed, emptied scarecrow.
18
19 And sun-stricken waves came and beat crazily
20 About its feet eaten hollow
21 Till crashing facedown in a million fragments
22 It was floated gleefully away
23 To cold shores—cartographers alone
24 Marking the coastline
25 Of that forgotten massive stance.
26
27 In our time it came again
28 In pain and acrid smell
29 Of powder. And furious wreckers
30 Emboldened by half a millennium
31 Of conquest, battening
r32 On new oil dividends, are now
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
At its black throat squeezing 9
Blood and lymph down to 10
Its hands and feet 11
Bloated by quashiokor. 12
13
Must Africa have 14
To come a third time? 15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 An “If” of History
6
7
8
9 Just think, had Hitler won
10 his war the mess our history
11 books would be today. The Americans
12 flushed by verdict of victory
13 hanged a Japanese commander for
14 war crimes. A generation later
15 an itching finger pokes their ribs:
16 We’ve got to hang
17 our Westmoreland
18 for bloodier crimes
19 in Viet Nam!
20 But everyone by now must
21 know that hanging takes much more
22 than a victim no matter his
23 load of manifest guilt. For even
24 in lynching a judge of sorts is needed—
25 a winner. Just think if Hitler
26 had gambled and won what chaos
27 the world would have known. His
28 implacable foe across the Channel
29 would surely have died for
30 war crimes. And as for H. Truman,
31 the Hiroshima villain, well!
r32 Had Hitler won his war
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
de Gaulle would have needed no 9
further trial for was he not 10
condemned already by Paris 11
to die for his treason 12
to France? . . . Had Hitler won, 13
Vidkun Quisling would have kept 14
his job as Prime Minister 15
of Norway, simply by 16
Hitler winning. 17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

1
2
3
4
5 Remembrance Day
6
7
8
9 Your proclaimed mourning
10 your flag at half-mast your
11 solemn face your smart backward
12 step and salute at the flowered
13 foot of empty graves your
14 glorious words—none, nothing
15 will their spirit appease. Had they
16 the choice they would gladly
17 have worn for you the same
18 stricken face gladly flown
19 your droopéd flag spoken
20 your tremulous eulogy—and
21 been alive. . . . Admittedly you
22 suffered too. You lived wretchedly
23 on all manner of gross fare;
24 you were tethered to the nervous
25 precipice day and night; your
26 groomed hair lost gloss, your
27 smooth body roundedness. Truly
28 you suffered much. But now
29 you have the choice of a dozen
30 ways to rehabilitate yourself.
31 Pick any one of them and soon
r32 you will forget the fear
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collecte d poems

and hardship, the peril 1

on the edge of the chasm. . . . The 2
shops stock again a variety 3
of hair dyes, the lace and 4
the gold are coming back; so 5
you will regain lost mirth 6
and girth and forget. But when, 7
how soon, will they their death? Long, 8
long after you forget they turned 9
newcomers again before the hazards 10
and rigors of reincarnation, rude 11
clods once more who once had borne 12
the finest scarifications of the potter’s 13
delicate hand now squashed back 14
into primeval mud, they will 15
remember. Therefore fear them! Fear 16
their malice your fallen kindred 17
wronged in death. Fear their blood feud; 18
tremble for the day of their 19
visit! Flee! Flee! Flee your 20
guilt palaces and cities! Flee 21
lest they come to ransack 22
your place and find you still 23
at home at the crossroad hour. Pray 24
that they return empty-handed 25
that day to nurse their red-hot 26
hatred for another long year. . . . 27
Your glorious words are not 28
for them nor your proliferation 29
in a dozen cities of the bronze 30
heroes of Idumota. . . . Flee! Seek 31
asylum in distant places till 32r
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1 a new generation of heroes rise

2 in phalanges behind their purified
3 child-priest to inaugurate
4 a season of atonement and rescue
5 from fingers calloused by heavy deeds
6 the tender rites of reconciliation
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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collecte d poems

1
2
3
4
A Wake for Okigbo 5
6
7
8
For whom are we searching? 9
For whom are we searching? 10
For Okigbo we are searching! 11
Nzomalizo! 12
13
Has he gone for firewood, let him return. 14
Has he gone to fetch water, let him return. 15
Has he gone to the marketplace, let him return. 16
For Okigbo we are searching. 17
Nzomalizo! 18
19
For whom are we searching? 20
For whom are we searching? 21
For Okigbo we are searching! 22
Nzomalizo! 23
24
Has he gone for firewood, may Ugboko not take him. 25
Has he gone to the stream, may Iyi not swallow him! 26
Has he gone to the market, then keep from him you 27
Tumult of the marketplace! 28
Has he gone to battle, 29
please Ogbonuke step aside for him! 30
For Okigbo we are searching! 31
Nzomalizo! 32r
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1 They bring home a dance, who is to dance it for us?

2 They bring home a war, who will fight it for us?
3 The one we call repeatedly,
4 there’s something he alone can do
5 It is Okigbo we are calling!
6 Nzomalizo!
7
8 Witness the dance, how it arrives
9 The war, how it has broken out
10 But the caller of the dance is nowhere to be found
11 The brave one in battle is nowhere in sight!
12 Do you not see now that whom we call again
13 And again, there is something he alone can do?
14 It is Okigbo we are calling!
15 Nzomalizo!
16
17 The dance ends abruptly
18 The spirit dancers fold their dance and depart in midday
19 Rain soaks the stalwart, soaks the two-sided drum!
20 The flute is broken that elevates the spirit
21 The music pot shattered that accompanies the leg in
22 its measure
23 Brave one of my blood!
24 Brave one of Igbo land!
25 Brave one in the middle of so much blood!
26 Owner of riches in the dwelling place of spirit
27 Okigbo is the one I am calling!
28 Nzomalizo!
29
30
31 In memory of the poet Christopher Okigbo (1932–1967)
r32 Translated from the Igbo by Ifeanyi Menkiti
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1
2
3
4
After a War 5
6
7
8
After a war life catches 9
desperately at passing 10
hints of normalcy like 11
vines entwining a hollow 12
twig; its famished roots 13
close on rubble and every 14
piece of broken glass. 15
16
Irritations we used 17
to curse return to joyous 18
tables like prodigals home 19
from the city. . . . The meter man 20
serving my maiden bill brought 21
a friendly face to my circle 22
of sullen strangers and me 23
smiling gratefully 24
to the door. 25
26
After a war 27
we clutch at watery 28
scum pulsating on listless 29
eddies of our spent 30
deluge. . . . Convalescent 31
dancers rising too soon 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 to rejoin their circle dance
10 our powerless feet intent
11 as before but no longer
12 adept contrive only
13 half-remembered
14 eccentric steps.
15
16 After years
17 of pressing death
18 and dizzy last-hour reprieves
19 we’re glad to dump our fears
20 and our perilous gains together
21 in one shallow grave and flee
22 the same rueful way we came
23 straight home to haunted revelry.
24
25 Christmas 1971
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Poems Not About War 9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
r32
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1
2
3
4
Love Song ( for Anna) 5
6
7
8
Bear with me my love 9
in the hour of my silence; 10
the air is crisscrossed 11
by loud omens and songbirds 12
fearing reprisals of middle day 13
have hidden away their notes 14
wrapped up in leaves 15
of cocoyam. . . . What song shall I 16
sing to you my love when 17
a choir of squatting toads 18
turns the stomach of day with 19
goitrous adoration of an infested 20
swamp and purple-headed 21
vultures at home stand 22
sentry on the rooftop? 23
24
I will sing only in waiting 25
silence your power to bear 26
my dream for me in your quiet 27
eyes and wrap the dust of our blistered 28
feet in golden anklets ready 29
for the return someday of our 30
banished dance. 31
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1
2
3
4
5 Love Cycle
6
7
8
9 At dawn slowly
10 the Sun withdraws his
11 long misty arms of
12 embrace. Happy lovers
13 whose exertions leave
14 no aftertaste nor slush
15 of love’s combustion; Earth
16 perfumed in dewdrop
17 fragrance wakes
18 to whispers of
19 soft-eyed light. . . .
20 Later he
21 will wear out his temper
22 plowing the vast acres
23 of heaven and take it
24 out on her in burning
25 darts of anger. Long
26 accustomed to such caprice
27 she waits patiently
28 for evening when thoughts
29 of another night will
30 restore his mellowness
31 and her power
r32 over him.
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1
2
3
4
Question 5
6
7
8
Angled sunbeam lowered 9
like Jacob’s ladder through 10
sky’s peephole pierced in the roof 11
to my silent floor and bared feet. 12
Are these your creatures 13
these crowding specks 14
stomping your lighted corridor 15
to a remote sun, like doped 16
acrobatic angels gyrating 17
at needlepoint to divert a high 18
unamused god? Or am I 19
sole stranger in a twilight room 20
I called my own overrun 21
and possessed long ago by myriads more 22
as yet invisible in all 23
this surrounding penumbra? 24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 Answer
6
7
8
9 I broke at last
10 the terror-fringed fascination
11 that bound my ancient gaze
12 to those crowding faces
13 of plunder and seized my
14 remnant life in a miracle
15 of decision between white-
16 collar hands and shook it
17 like a cheap watch in
18 my ear and threw it down
19 beside me on the earth floor
20 and rose to my feet. I
21 made of their shoulders
22 and heads bobbing up and down
23 a new ladder and leaned
24 it on their sweating flanks
25 and ascended till midair
26 my hands so new to harshness
27 could grapple the roughness of a prickly
28 day and quench the source
29 that fed turbulence to their
30 feet. I made a dramatic
31 descent that day landing
r32 backways into crouching shadows
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
into potsherds of broken trance. I 9
flung open long-disused windows 10
and doors and saw my hut 11
new-swept by rainbow brooms 12
of sunlight become my home again 13
on whose trysting floor waited 14
my proud vibrant life. 15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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c h i n ua ac h e b e

1
2
3
4
5 Beware, Soul Brother
6
7
8
9 We are the men of soul
10 men of song we measure out
11 our joys and agonies
12 too, our long, long passion week
13 in paces of the dance. We have
14 come to know from surfeit of suffering
15 that even the Cross need not be
16 a dead end nor total loss
17 if we should go to it striding
18 the dirge of the soulful abia drums. . . .
19 But beware soul brother
20 of the lures of ascension day
21 the day of soporific levitation
22 on high winds of skysong; beware
23 for others there will be that day
24 lying in wait leaden-footed, tone-deaf
25 passionate only for the deep entrails
26 of our soil; beware of the day
27 we head truly skyward leaving
28 that spoil to the long ravenous tooth
29 and talon of their hunger.
30 Our ancestors, soul brother, were wiser
31 than is often made out. Remember
r32 they gave Ala, great goddess
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
of their earth, sovereignty too over 9
their arts for they understood 10
so well those hardheaded 11
men of departed dance where a man’s 12
foot must return whatever beauties 13
it may weave in air, where 14
it must return for safety 15
and renewal of strength. Take care 16
then, mother’s son, lest you become 17
a dancer disinherited in mid-dance 18
hanging a lame foot in air like the hen 19
in a strange unfamiliar compound. Pray 20
protect this patrimony to which 21
you must return when the song 22
is finished and the dancers disperse; 23
remember also your children 24
for they in their time will want 25
a place for their feet when 26
they come of age and the dance 27
of the future is born 28
for them. 29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 NON-commitment
6
7
8
9 Hurrah! to them who do nothing
10 see nothing feel nothing whose
11 hearts are fitted with prudence
12 like a diaphragm across
13 womb’s beckoning doorway to bar
14 the scandal of seminal rage. I’m
15 told the owl too wears wisdom
16 in a ring of defense round
17 each vulnerable eye securing it fast
18 against the darts of sight. Long ago
19 in the Middle East Pontius Pilate
20 openly washed involvement off his
21 white hands and became famous. (Of all
22 the Roman officials before him and after
23 who else is talked about
24 every Sunday in the Apostles’ Creed?) And
25 talking of apostles that other fellow
26 Judas wasn’t such a fool
27 either; though much maligned by
28 succeeding generations the fact remains
29 he alone in that motley crowd
30 had sense enough to tell a doomed
31 movement when he saw one
r32 and get out quick, a nice little
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
packet bulging his coat pocket 9
into the bargain—sensible fellow. 10
11
September 1970 12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 Generation Gap
6
7
8
9 A son’s arrival
10 is the crescent moon
11 too new too soon to lodge
12 the man’s returning. His
13 feast of reincarnation
14 must await the moon’s
15 ripening at the naming
16 ceremony of his
17 grandson.
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
Misunderstanding 5
6
7
8
My old man had a little saying 9
he loved and as he neared 10
his end was prone to relish 11
more and more. Wherever Something 12
stands, he’d say, there also Something 13
Else will stand. Heedless at first 14
I waved it aside as mere 15
elderly prattle that youth have to bear 16
till sharply one day it hit home to me 17
that never before, not even 18
once, did I hear mother speak 19
again in their little disputes once 20
he’d said it. From then began 21
my long unrest: what was this 22
Thing so unanswerable and why 23
was it dogged by that 24
relentless Other? My mother 25
proved no help at all nor did 26
my father whose sole reply 27
was just a solemn smile. . . . Quietly 28
later of its own will it showed 29
its face, so slowly, to me though 30
not before they’d long been dead—my 31
little old man and my mother 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 also—and showed me too how
10 utterly vain my private quest
11 had been. Flushed by success
12 I spoke one day in a trifling
13 row: you see, my darling (to
14 my wife) where Something
15 stands—no matter what—there
16 Something Else will take its
17 stand. I knew, she said; she
18 pouted her lips like a gun
19 in my face. She knew, she said,
20 she’d known all along of that
21 other woman I was keeping in town.
22 And I fear, my friends,
23 I am yet to hear
24 the last of it.
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
r32
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collecte d poems

1
2
3
4
Knowing Robs Us 5
6
7
8
Knowing robs us of wonder. 9
Had it not ripped apart 10
the fearful robes of primordial Night 11
to steal the design that crafted horns 12
on doghead and sowed insurrection 13
overnight in the homely beak 14
of a hen; had reason not given us 15
assurance that day will daily break 16
and the sun’s array return to disarm 17
night’s fantastic figurations— 18
each daybreak 19
would be garlanded at the city gate 20
and escorted with royal drums 21
to a stupendous festival 22
of an amazed world. 23
24
One day 25
after the passage of a dark April storm 26
ecstatic birds followed its furrows 27
sowing songs of daybreak though the time 28
was now past noon, their sparkling 29
notes sprouting green incantations 30
everywhere to free the world 31
from harmattan death. 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 But for me
10 the celebration is make-believe;
11 the clamorous change of season
12 will darken the hills of Nsukka
13 for an hour or two when it comes;
14 no hurricane will hit my sky—
15 and no song of deliverance.
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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collecte d poems

1
2
3
4
Bull and Egret 5
6
7
8
At seventy miles an hour 9
one morning down the seesaw 10
road to Nsukka I came 11
upon a mighty bull 12
in form and carriage 13
so unlike Fulani cattle— 14
gaunt, high-horned, triangular 15
faced—that come in herded 16
multitudes from dusty savannas 17
to the north. . . . Heavy 18
was he, solitary dark 19
and taciturn, one of a tribe 20
they say fate has chosen 21
for slow extinction. At his heels 22
paced his egret, intent 23
praise-singer, pure white 24
all neck, walking high 25
stilts and yet no higher 26
than his master’s leg joint. . . . 27
Odd covetousness indeed would 28
leave its boundless green estates 29
for a spell of petty trespassing 30
on perilous asphalt laid for me. . . . My 31
frantic blast of iron voice 32r
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1 shattered their stately march, then

2 recoiled brutally to my heart
3 as he gathered in hasty panic
4 the heaviness of his hind-
5 quarters, so ungainly in his
6 hurry, and flung it desperate
7 beyond my monstrous
8 reach. I should have felt unworthy then
9 playing such pranks on the noble
10 elder and watching his hallowed
11 waist cloth came undone had not
12 his singer fared so well. . . . Two
13 quick hops, a flap of
14 wings and he was
15 safe posture intact on
16 brown laterite. . . . I could not
17 bear him playing so
18 faithfully my faithless agility-man, my
19 scrambler to safety, throat dilated
20 still by remnant praises
21 of his excellency high-headed
22 in delusion marching now alone
23 into death’s ambush. . . . We were
24 spared, the bull and I, in our separate follies. . . .
25 His routed sunrise procession
26 no doubt would reform beyond the clamor
27 of my passage and sprightly
28 egret take up again
29 his broken adulation
30 of the bull, his everlasting
31 prince, his giver-in-abundance
r32 of heavenly cattle ticks.
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1
2
3
4
Lazarus 5
6
7
8
We know the breathtaking 9
joy of his sisters when the word 10
spread: He is risen! But a 11
man who has lived a full life 12
will have others to 13
reckon with beside his 14
sisters. Certainly that keen-eyed 15
assistant who has moved up 16
to his table at the office, for 17
him resurrection is an awful 18
embarrassment. . . . The luckless 19
people of Ogbaku knew its 20
terrors that day the twin-headed 21
evil strode their highway. It 22
could not have been easy 23
picking up again the blood-spattered 24
clubs they had cast away; or to 25
turn from the battered body 26
of the barrister lying beside his 27
battered limousine to finish off 28
their own man, stirring now suddenly 29
in wide-eyed resurrection. . . . How well 30
they understood, those grim-faced 31
villagers wielding their crimson 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 weapons once more, how well
10 they understood that at the hour
11 of his rising their kinsman
12 avenged in murder would turn
13 away from them in obedience
14 to other fraternities, would turn indeed
15 their own accuser and in one
16 breath obliterate their plea
17 and justification! So they killed
18 him a second time that day on the
19 threshold of a promising resurrection.
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
Vultures 5
6
7
8
In the grayness 9
and drizzle of one despondent 10
dawn unstirred by harbingers 11
of sunbreak a vulture 12
perching high on broken 13
bone of a dead tree 14
nestled close to his 15
mate his smooth 16
bashed-in head, a pebble 17
on a stem rooted in 18
a dump of gross 19
feathers, inclined affectionately 20
to hers. Yesterday they picked 21
the eyes of a swollen 22
corpse in a waterlogged 23
trench and ate the 24
things in its bowel. Full 25
gorged they chose their roost 26
keeping the hollowed remnant 27
in easy range of cold 28
telescopic eyes. . . . 29
Strange 30
indeed how love in other 31
ways so particular 32r
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1 will pick a corner

2 in that charnel house
3 tidy it and coil up there, perhaps
4 even fall asleep—her face
5 turned to the wall!
6 . . . Thus the Commandant at Belsen
7 Camp going home for
8 the day with fumes of
9 human roast clinging
10 rebelliously to his hairy
11 nostrils will stop
12 at the wayside sweetshop
13 and pick up a chocolate
14 for his tender offspring
15 waiting at home for Daddy’s
16 return. . . .
17 Praise bounteous
18 providence if you will
19 that grants even an ogre
20 its glowworm
21 tenderness encapsulated
22 in icy caverns of a cruel
23 heart or else despair
24 for in the very germ
25 of that kindred love is
26 lodged the perpetuity
27 of evil.
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
Public Execution in Pictures 5
6
7
8
The caption did not overlook 9
the smart attire of the squad. Certainly 10
there was impressive swagger in that 11
ready, high-elbowed stance; belted 12
and sashed in threaded dragon teeth 13
they waited in self-imposed restraint— 14
fine ornament on power unassailable— 15
for their cue 16
17
at the crucial time 18
this pretty close-up lady in fine lace 19
proved unequal to it, her first no doubt, 20
and quickly turned away. But not 21
this other—her face, rigid 22
in pain, firmly held between her palms; 23
though not perfect yet, it seems 24
clear she has put the worst 25
behind her today 26
27
in my home 28
far from the crowded live-show 29
on the hot, bleached sands of Victoria 30
Beach my little kids will crowd 31
round our Sunday paper and debate 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 hotly why the heads of dead
10 robbers always slump forward
11 or sideways.
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Gods, Men, and Others 9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
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31
r32
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1
2
3
4
Penalty of Godhead 5
6
7
8
The old man’s bed 9
of straw caught a flame blown 10
from overnight logs by harmattan’s 11
incendiary breath. Defying his age and 12
sickness he rose and steered himself 13
smoke-blind to safety. 14
15
A nimble rat appeared at the 16
door of his hole looked quickly to left and 17
right and scurried across the floor 18
to nearby farmlands. 19
20
Even roaches that grim 21
tenantry that nothing discourages 22
fled their crevices that day on wings they 23
only use in deadly haste. 24
25
Household gods alone 26
frozen in ritual black with blood 27
of endless tribute festooned in feathers 28
perished in the blazing pyre 29
of that hut. 30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 Those Gods Are Children
6 (for Gabriel Okara)
7
8
9 No man who loves himself
10 will dare to drink
11 before his fathers’ presences enshrined
12 by the threshold have drunk
13 their fill. A fool alone will
14 contest the precedence of ancestors
15 and gods; the wise wisely
16 sing them grandiloquent lullabies
17 knowing they are children
18 those omnipotent deities.
19 Take that avid-eyed old man
20 full horn in veined hand
21 unsteadied by age who calls
22 forward his fathers tilting the horn
23 with amazing skill for a hand
24 so tremulous till grudging trickles
25 break through white froth
26 at the brim and course down
27 the curved side to fine point
28 of sacrifice ant-hole-size in earth:
29 come together all-powerful spirits
30 and drink; no need to scramble
31 there’s enough for all!
r32 Or when the offering of yams
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
is due who sends the lively 9
errand son to scour the barn 10
and bring a sacrifice fit 11
for the mighty dead! Naive 12
eager to excel the child 13
returns in sweat lumbering 14
the heavy pride of his father’s harvest: 15
ignorant child, all ears and no eyes! 16
is that the biggest in my barn? 17
I said the biggest! 18
Only then does the nimble child 19
perceive a surreptitious fist quickly shown 20
and withdrawn again—and break through 21
wisdom’s lashing cordon to welcoming smiles 22
of initiation. He makes the journey 23
of the neophyte to bring home a ritual 24
offering as big as an egg. 25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 II
10
11 Long ago a man of fury drawn
12 by doom’s insistent call slew
13 his brother. The land and every deity
14 screamed revenge: a head for a head
15 and raised their spear
16 to smite the town should it
17 withhold the due. The man
18 was ready. The elders’ council
19 looked at him and turned
20 from him to all the orphans doubly
21 doomed and shook their heads:
22 the gods are right and just! This man
23 shall hang but first may he
24 retrieve the sagging house
25 of his fathers
26
27 and the fine points
28 of the gods’ spears
29 returned to earth
30
31 and he lived for years that man
r32 of death he raised his orphans
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
he worked his homestead and his farmlands 9
till evening came and laid him low 10
with cruel foraging fever. Patient 11
elders peering through the hut’s dim 12
light darkened more by smoke 13
of smoldering fire under his bed 14
steady-eyed at a guilt they had stalked 15
across scrublands and seven rivers, a long-prepared 16
hangman’s loop in their hand 17
quickly circled his neck 18
as he died 19
20
and the gods 21
and ancestors 22
were satisfied. 23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 III
10
11 They are strong and to be feared
12 they make the mighty crash
13 in ruin like iroko’s fall
14 at height of noon scattering
15 nests and frantic birdsong
16 in damped silence of deep
17 undergrowth. Yet they are fooled
18 as easily as children those deities
19 their simple omnipotence
20 drowsed by praise.
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
Lament of the Sacred Python 5
6
7
8
I was there when lizards 9
were ones and twos, child 10
Of ancient river god Idemili. Painful 11
Teardrops of Sky’s first weeping 12
Drew my spots. Sky-born 13
I walked the earth with royal gait 14
And crowds of human mourners 15
Filing down funereal paths 16
Across lengthening shadows 17
Of the dead acknowledged my face 18
In broken dirges of fear. 19
20
But of late 21
A wandering god pursued, 22
It seems, by hideous things 23
He did at home has come to us 24
And pitched his tent here 25
Beneath the people’s holy tree 26
And hoisted from its pinnacle 27
A charlatan bell that calls 28
Unknown monotones of revolts, 29
Scandals, and false immunities. 30
And I that none before could meet except 31
In fear though I brought no terrors 32r
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9 From creation’s day of gifts I must now
10 Turn on my track
11 In dishonorable flight
12 Where children stop their play
13 To shriek in my ringing ears:
14 Look out, python! Look out, python!
15 Christians relish python flesh!
16
17 And mighty god Idemili
18 That once upheld from earth foundations
19 Cloud banks of sky’s endless waters
20 Is betrayed in his shrine by empty men
21 Suborned with the stranger’s tawdry gifts
22 And taken trussed up to the altar-shrine turned
23 Slaughterhouse for the gory advent
24 Feast of an errant cannibal god
25 Tooth-filed to eat his fellows.
26
27 And the sky recedes in
28 Disgust; the orphan snake
29 Abandoned weeps in the shadows.
30
31
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1
2
3
4
Their Idiot Song 5
6
7
8
These fellows, the old pagan 9
said, surely are out of their mind— 10
that old proudly impervious 11
derelict skirted long ago by floodwaters 12
of salvation: Behold the great 13
and gory handiwork of Death displayed 14
for all on dazzling sheets this 15
hour of day its twin nostrils 16
plugged firmly with stoppers of wool 17
and they ask of him: Where 18
is thy sting? 19
Sing on, good fellows, sing 20
on! Someday when it is you 21
he decks out on his great 22
iron bed with cotton wool 23
for your breath, his massing odors 24
mocking your pitiful makeshift defenses 25
of face powder and township ladies’ lascivious 26
scent, these others roaming 27
yet his roomy chicken coop will 28
be singing and asking still 29
but you by then 30
no longer will be 31
in doubt! 32r
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1
2
3
4
5 The Nigerian Census
6
7
8
9 I will not mourn with you
10 your lost populations, the silent columns
11 of your fief erased
12 from the king’s book of numbers
13
14 For in your house of stone
15 by the great road
16 you listened once to refugee voices
17 at dawn telling of massacres and plagues
18 in their land across seven rivers
19
20 Like a hornbill in flight
21 you tucked in your slippered feet
22 from the threshold
23 out of their beseeching gaze
24
25 But pestilence farther
26 than faraway tales of dawn
27 had bought a seat in Ogun’s reckless
28 chariot and knocks by nightfall
29 on your iron gate.
30
31 Take heart oh chief; decimation
r32 by miscount, however grievous,
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
is a happy retreat from bolder 9
uses of the past. Take heart, 10
for these scribal flourishes 11
behind smudged entries, these 12
trophied returns of clerical headhunters 13
can never match the quiet flow 14
of red blood. 15
16
But if my grudging comfort fail, 17
then take this long and even view to a.d.  18
when the word is due to go out again 19
and—depending on which Caesar 20
orders the count—new conurbations 21
may sprout in today’s wastelands, 22
and thriving cities dissolve 23
in sudden mirages 24
25
and the ready-reckoners at court 26
will calculate their gain 27
and our loss, and make us 28
any-number-of-million-they-like strong! 29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5 Flying
6 ( for Niyi Osundare)
7
8
9 Something in altitude kindles power-thirst
10 Mere horse-height suffices the emir
11 Bestowing from rich folds of prodigious turban
12 Upon crawling peasants in the dust
13 Rare imperceptible nods enwrapped
14 In princely boredom.
15
16 I too have known
17 A parching of that primordial palate,
18 A quickening to manifest life
19 Of a long recessive appetite.
20 Though strapped and manacled
21 That day I commanded from the pinnacle
22 Of a three-tiered world a bridge befitting
23 The proud deranged deity I had become.
24 A magic rug of rushing clouds
25 Billowed and rubbed its white softness
26 Like practiced houri fingers on my sole
27 And through filters of its gauzy fabric
28 Revealed wonders of a metropolis
29 Magic-struck to fairyland proportions.
30 By different adjustments of vision
31 I caused the clouds to float
r32 Over a stilled landscape, over towers
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And masts and smoke-plumed chimneys; 1

Or turned the very earth, unleashed 2
From itself, a roaming fugitive 3
Beneath a constant sky. Then came 4
A sudden brightness over the world, 5
A rare winter’s smile it was, and printed 6
On my cloud carpet a black cross 7
Set in an orb of rainbows. To which 8
Splendid nativity came—who else would come 9
But gray unsporting Reason, faithless 10
Pedant offering a bald refractory annunciation? 11
But oh what beauty! What speed! 12
A chariot of night in panic flight 13
From Our Royal Proclamation of the rites 14
Of day! And riding out Our procession 15
Of fantasy We slaked an ancient 16
Vestigial greed shriveled by ages of dormancy 17
Till the eyes exhausted by glorious pageantries 18
Returned to rest on that puny 19
Legend of the life jacket stowed away 20
Of all places under my seat. 21
22
Now I think I know why gods 23
Are so partial to heights—to mountain 24
Tops and spires, to proud iroko trees 25
And thorn-guarded holy bombax, 26
Why petty household divinities 27
Will sooner perch on a rude board 28
Strung precariously from brittle rafters 29
Of a thatched roof than sit squarely 30
On safe earth. 31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Epilogue 9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
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3
4
5
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9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
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22
23
24
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1
2
3
4
He Loves Me; He Loves Me Not 5
6
7
8
“Harold Wilson he loves 9
me he gave me 10
a gun in my time 11
of need to shoot 12
my rebellious brother. Edward 13
Heath he loves 14
me not he’s promised a gun 15
to his sharpshooting 16
brother viewing me 17
crazily through ramparts 18
of white Pretoria. . . . It 19
would be awful 20
if he got me.” It was 21
awful and he got 22
him. They headlined it 23
on the BBC spreading 24
indignation through the 25
world, later that day 26
in emergency meeting his 27
good friend Wilson and Heath 28
his enemy crossed swords 29
over him at West- 30
minster and sent post- 31
haste Sir Alec to Africa 32r
for the funeral. 33l

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1
2
3
4
5 Dereliction
6
7
8
9 I quit the carved stool
10 in my father’s hut to the swelling
11 chant of saber-tooth termites
12 raising in the pith of its wood
13 a white-bellied stalagmite
14
15 Where does a runner go
16 whose oily grip drops
17 the baton handed by the faithful one
18 in a hard, merciless race? Or
19 the priestly elder who barters
20 for the curio collector’s head
21 of tobacco the holy staff
22 of his people?
23
24 Let them try the land
25 where the sea retreats
26 Let them try the land
27 where the sea retreats
28
29
30
31
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1
2
3
4
We Laughed at Him 5
6
7
8
We laughed at him our 9
hungry-eyed fool-man with itching 10
fingers who would see farther 11
than all. We called him 12
visionary missionary revolutionary 13
and, you know, all the other 14
naries that plague the peace, but 15
nothing would deter him. 16
17
With his own nails he cut 18
his eyes, scraped the crust 19
over them peeled off his priceless 20
patina of rest and the dormant 21
fury of his dammed pond 22
broke into a cataract 23
of blood tumbling down 24
his face and chest. . . . We 25
laughed at his screams the fool-man 26
who would see what eyes 27
are forbidden, the hungry-eyed 28
man, the look-look man, the 29
itching man bent to drag 30
into daylight fearful signs 31
hidden away for our safety 32r
at the creation of the world. 33l

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1 He was always against

2 blindness, you know, our quiet
3 sober blindness, our lazy—he called
4 it—blindness. And for
5 his pains? A turbulent, torrential
6 cascading blindness behind
7 a Congo river of blood. He sat
8 backstage then behind his flaming red
9 curtain and groaned in
10 the pain his fingers unlocked, in the
11 rainstorm of blows loosed on his head
12 by the wild avenging demons he
13 drummed free from the silence of their
14 drum-house, his prize for big-eyed greed.
15 We sought by laughter to drown
16 his anguish until one day
17 at height of noon his screams
18 turned suddenly to hymns
19 of ecstasy. We knew then his pain
20 had risen to the brain
21 and we took pity on him
22 the poor fool-man as he held
23 converse with himself. My Lord,
24 we heard him say to the curtain
25 of his blood I come to touch
26 the hem of your crimson robe.
27 He went stark mad thereafter
28 raving about new sights he
29 claimed to see, poor fellow; sights
30 you and I know are as impossible for this world
31 to show as for a hen to urinate—if one
r32 may borrow one of his many crazy vulgarisms—
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he raved about trees topped with 1

green and birds flying—yes actually 2
flying through the air—about 3
the Sun and the Moon and stars 4
and about lizards crawling on all 5
fours. . . . But nobody worries much 6
about him today; he has paid 7
his price and we don’t even 8
bother to laugh anymore. 9
10
11
12
13
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Mango Seedling 10
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line 14: the widow of infinite faith refers to the story of the widow of 12
Sarephath in the First Book of Kings, chapter . 13
14
line 18: Old Tortoise’s miraculous feast: Once upon a time Tortoise went 15
to work for an old woman, and at the end of his labors she set 16
before him a bowl containing a lone cocoyam sitting on a 17
mound of cooked green leaves. Naturally, Tortoise protested 18
vehemently and refused to touch such a meager meal. In the 19
end, however, he was persuaded, still protesting, to give it a try. 20
Then he discovered to his amazement (and nearly his undoing) 21
that another cocoyam always appeared in the bowl as soon as 22
he ate the previous one. 23
24
line 24: the primordial quarrel of Earth and Sky: This was a dispute over 25
who was sovereign. It led finally to Sky’s withholding of rain 26
for seven whole years, until the ground became hard as iron 27
and the dead could not be buried. Only then did Earth sue for 28
peace, sending high-flying Vulture as emissary. 29
30
31
Christmas in Biafra (1969) 32
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line 30: new aluminum coins: A completely unsuccessful effort was 34
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1 coins of a lower denomination than the paper money that had

2 come in earlier. But it was too late. The market, having already
3 settled for the five-shilling currency note as its smallest medium
4 of exchange, paid no heed to the new coins.
5
6
7 An “If” of History
8
9 line 5: A Japanese general named Tomayuki Yamashita was hanged
10 by the Americans at the end of the Second World War for war
11 crimes committed by troops under his nominal command in
12 the Philippines.
13
14
15 Remembrance Day
16
17 The Igbo people around my hometown, Ogidi, had an annual obser-
18 vance called O.so. Nwanadi. On the night preceding it, all able-bodied
19 men in the village took flight and went into hiding in neighboring
20 villages in order to escape the ire of Nwanadi or dead kindred killed
21 in war.
22 Although the Igbo people admire courage and valor they do
23 not glamorize death, least of all death in battle. They have no Valhalla
24 concept; the dead hero bears the living a grudge. Life is the “natural”
25 state; death is tolerable only when it leads again to life—to reincar-
26 nation. Two sayings of the Igbo will illustrate their attitude toward
27 death:
28
(a) A person who cries because he is sick, what will they do
29
who are dead?
30
(b) Before a dead man is reincarnated an emaciated man will
31
recover his flesh.
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A Wake for Okigbo 1

2
This poem is an elaboration of a traditional Igbo dirge. 3
In some parts of Igbo land the death of a young person was 4
first publicized by members of his or her age grade chanting through 5
the village in a make-believe search for their missing comrade, who 6
they insisted was only playing hide-and-seek with them. 7
The refrain of their chant, nzomalizo, is made up of zo, which 8
means hide, and mali, which is a playful sound. The repeat of zo and 9
the linking mali complete the effect of hiding in play. Ugboko is the 10
personification of the tropical forest, while Iyi personifies the stream. 11
Ogbonuke is the embodiment of ill will and catastrophe. 12
13
14
Love Song ( for Anna) 15
16
line 8: Leaves of cocoyam come in handy for wrapping small and del- 17
icate things. For instance, before storage, kola nuts are wrapped 18
in cocoyam leaves to preserve them from desiccation. How- 19
ever, cocoyam leaves are not for rough handling as Vulture 20
learned to his cost when he received from the hands of an 21
appeased Sky a bundle of rain wrapped in them to take home 22
to drought-stricken Earth. 23
24
25
Beware, Soul Brother 26
27
line 10: abia drums beaten at the funeral of an Igbo titled man. The 28
dance itself is also called abia and is danced by the dead man’s 29
peers while he lies in state and finally by two men bearing his 30
coffin before it is taken for burial; so he goes to his ancestors by 31
a final rite de passage in solemn paces of dance. 32
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1 Misunderstanding
2
3 The Igbo people have a firm belief in the duality of things. Nothing
4 is by itself, nothing is absolute. “I am the way, the Truth, and the Life”
5 would be meaningless in Igbo theology. They say that a man may be
6 right by Udo and yet be killed by Ogwugwu; in other words, he may
7 worship one god to perfection and yet fall foul of another.
8 Igbo proverbs bring out this duality of existence very well.
9 Take any proverb that puts forward a point of view or a “truth” and
10 you can always find another that contradicts it or at least puts a limi-
11 tation on the absoluteness of its validity.
12
13
14 Lazarus
15
16 line 12: Ogbaku: Many years ago a strange and terrible thing happened
17 in the small village of Ogbaku. A lawyer driving on the high-
18 way that passes by that village ran over a man. The villagers,
19 thinking the man had been killed, set upon the lawyer and
20 clubbed him to death. Then to their horror, their man began
21 to stir. So, the story went, they set upon him too and finished
22 him off, saying, “You can’t come back having made us do that.”
23
24
25 Those Gods Are Children
26
27 The attitude of Igbo people to their gods is sometimes ambivalent.
28 This arises from a worldview that sees the land of the spirits as a
29 territorial extension of the human domain. Each sphere has its func-
30 tions as well as its privileges in relation to the other. Thus a man is
31 not entirely without authority in dealing with the spirit world nor
32 entirely at its mercy. The deified spirits of his ancestors look after his
33 welfare; in return he regularly offers them sustenance in the form of
34 sacrifice. In such a reciprocal relationship one is encouraged (within
r35 reason) to try to get the better of the bargain.
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Lament of the Sacred Python 1

2
line 10: acknowledged my face in broken dirges: One of the songs that 3
accompany the dead to the burial place at nightfall has these 4
lines: 5
Look a python! Look a python! 6
Python lies across the way! 7
8
line 24: creation’s day of gifts: We all choose our gifts, our character, 9
our fate from the Creator just before we make our journey into 10
the world. The sacred python did not choose (like some other 11
snakes) the terror of the fang and venom, and yet it received a 12
presence more overpowering than theirs. 13
14
15
Their Idiot Song 16
17
The Christian claim of victory over death, is to the unconverted vil- 18
lager, one of the really puzzling things about the faith. Are these 19
Christians just naive or plain hypocritical? 20
21
22
He Loves Me; He Loves Me Not 23
24
Lines provoked by the news that a street in the Nigerian city of Port 25
Harcourt had been named after Britain’s prime minister Harold Wilson. 26
27
28
Dereliction 29
30
This poem is in three short movements. The first is the inquirer 31
(onye aju.ju.); the second, the mediating diviner (dibia), who frames the 32
inquiry in general terms; and the third is the Oracle. 33
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1 We Laughed at Him
2
3 line 36: wild avenging demons: This refers to the story of Tortoise and
4 the miraculous food drum offered him in spirit land in com-
5 pensation for his palm nut that one of the spirit children has
6 eaten. After long use (and misuse) the drum ceases to produce
7 any more feasts when it is beaten. Whereupon Tortoise bla-
8 tantly contrives a reenactment of his first visit to spirit land.
9 But this time the spirits (fully aware, no doubt, of his greed)
10 take him to a long row of hanging drums and allow him to
11 pick one for himself. As you would expect, he picks the largest
12 and lumbers away under its great weight. Home at last, he
13 makes elaborate arrangements for a feast and then beats the
14 drum. No food comes; instead demons armed with long whips
15 emerge and belabor him to their satisfaction.
16 The element of choice is a recurrent theme in Igbo folklore,
17 especially in man’s dealings with the spirit world. We are not
18 forced; we make a free choice.
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