I stumbled on an anthology edited by Wole Soyinka,titled POEMS OF BLACK AFRICA,while pawing through my aunts library.Apart from it containing poems that i didnt see in the West African Verse and the anthology compiled by Senanu and Vincent,it also gave me another insight into poets i have pigeonholed into writing poems on a particular theme.Dennis Brutus is a particularly explicit poet when it comes to mating cry as W.S put it.Mazizi kunene also penned words that were both provocative and fluid.However,one poem that i come back to everytime i open this book is a poem by Akosua Nowa by Joe de Graft,part from the fact that it was another example of the pigeonhole thing i talked about,i never knew de Graft wrote poems,it is a classical example of Africans peculiar way of talking.We never say what we mean,rather our speech is deep,capable of many interpretation.It also drives home d fact that Men are Men and Women are Women,each with their own foibles and peculiarities.Enough with my ramblings,here is the poem,I eagerly anticipate your reactions They say the guinea-fowl lays her treasure Where only she can find it, Akosua Nowa is a guinea-fowl: Go tell her, red ant upon the tree. I met Akosua Nowa this morning I greeted: Akosua,how is your treasure? She looked at me slowly up and down, She sneered: The man is not yet here wholl find it! AkosuaNowa has touched my manhood; Tell her,red ant upon the tree: If she passes this way I am gone I am gone to load my gun No matter how hidden deep her treasure, By my fathers coffin i swear Ill shoot my way to it this day; Son of the hunter king There is liquid fire in my gun!
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 08:02:13 +0000
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