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IKECHUKWU OBIALO AZUONYE
January Themes
We have thrown our bivouac fires
to the four winds;
we have cast the myth of our shoulders
into the black forest
our silenced iron gongs
with quenched fires
crash tree-like into the woods
into the rivers
fall by the pathway
and suck in the sand
those that trembled at our word
yesterday
stand today
and dare us to our myth
Gods have become men
in the impulse of a night!
(January Themes
was first published in Nsukka Harvest in 1972)
Untitled I (2010)
I am not, you see, a poet
but, sometimes, after eight
I wonder if I might be
My allusions are transparent
it is all apparent
and
most of the time
my lines do not rhyme
My images do not soar
on the winds of heaven
high above the places
where condors might dare
or bind you in beauty
that sears like lightning
until you cry out with joy
The music of my phrases
falls short of symphonic
and
my words do not take you
to that golden place, that golden place
where you may find, you,
every poem that will be written
every poem that will be written
I am not, you see, a poet
but, sometimes, after eight
I wonder if I might be.
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