Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Adieu Papa

Enlarge poem

My pen dribbles in sad red ink
as I write this momentarily dirge
To unwrite your sad absence from us
As a father, you showered us with unceasing,
Unseasonal and Unscripted concern that amazed fathers.
You were there when the sun sworn to shine us dry
yet you pleaded with the rain to still stay
Beside us and never let our feet get fevered.
As a guardian, you led us through prudent path
that knows no material or canal inclinations.
You are a muse among a thousand inspirations,
the true action behind cheering motivations
and the eventual victory of the last standing gladiator.
You made us walk when we can’t run,
You ensured we crawl when we cant walk
through the huddle, you kept our muscles moving
As a teacher, you taught us many truths
that were not told by orators and pastors.
You told us that consciousness is an uncommon life
in the depth of worst uncommon lifelessness.
You taught us what Mandela taught South Africa
That dignity….dignity…dignity is personality.
So much you gave to us in this throne
of our thatched wall home.
As a leader, you showed us how not to fall
Even when our legs are badly crumbled
and our clutches totally stumbled
with a heart that is terribly bungled.
You said, never say die! Never call pain a woe,
never call tears blood, never call blood death,
and never call death the end.
You are indomitable in the domain of death
because you live again in our strength,
our faith, our communion and our reason.
We, in one heart, one love, one bond,
one cord, and one word, one thought…
cry for the rivers to overflow and flood our eyes.
The seed of your heroic creed and deeds
shall never root in concrete soil or stretching sea
instead it shall find it growth in our hearts.
May your gentle soul sail to continue
the struggle there… beyond
for only when our mass is free
can you find a mind to rest in peace.
Adieu papa.

Uche Uwadinachi

Featured Poem:

Walls of unending scars

Enlarge poem

I have seen
The four walls
Coated with gory hand-prints
Of criminals and suspects
In-scripting awkwardness
Pleading for a public presentation

I stared at slogans
Screaming….
“we die…innocent”
“i was here”
“and so what”
“are you the president?”
“dem go fire me”
“na today”
“…save us”

My heart tears my eyes
And the graffiti spawns
Ceaselessly…

My head smothers
As ravaging foul odour
Of urine and shit
Shutters me to worship
At the walls of unending scars
With my own “craze-words”.

Hell is cell!
The black bowl
Smiths into a black hole
Bloats for the unborn convict
Guilty – of life, wanting to survive
…raiding flames at night
…beaming red in flight
…yellow coal for ice
Collies for the burning
Of our already hurt hearts.

“Pollease”…police
Poll for faults
Lease of crimes
To catch and lock our lives
Into the bloating black hole
Of a cell.

And so
The walls persist
A writing cry of the weak
Dying…to die today
And died…. Tomorrow
WILL DIE NO MORE.

uche uwadinachi

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (1)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (4)
  • Captivation (3)
  • Peace (2)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (3)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Comments

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Uche Uwadinachi also called Flames – Priest of poetry, is a spoken word artist and the author of poetry collection SCAR in the HEART of pain and it’s Spoken Word audio Album.
He is the winner of ANA Lagos (Association of Nigerian Authors) Poetry Performance Festival Prize 2006 and Pakistan June ‘Poetrycraze’ contest 2009. 2nd Prize Poetry Winner of Ken Saro-Wiwa Contest, USA  2010, won the June Loudthotz Poetry contest 2011 and directed the overall winning Poetry performance of district 5 Education Board for the Lagos State Jam Feast Competition 2011, his poems have been published in the ‘Lime Jewel’ collection-London 2010 and other publications. His poetry performances has been seen on Bookshelves-LTV8, 9ja TV, Tinapa Trade Expo 2008, Lagos State Trade Fair EKO-EXPO 20011, Wordslam 1,2,3 & 4, Poetry Potter, Potters Lounge, Anthill, Pen Society among others,  presently, he is  an independent television presenter with Konto Music and works towards his new spoken-word-rap album titled E’FI MI LE’ joo’or.

Uche Uwadinachi

uche uwadinachi
uche uwadinachi

Biography

Uche Uwadinachi also called Flames – Priest of poetry, is a spoken word artist and the author of poetry collection SCAR in the HEART of pain and it’s Spoken Word audio Album.
He is the winner of ANA Lagos (Association of Nigerian Authors) Poetry Performance Festival Prize 2006 and Pakistan June ‘Poetrycraze’ contest 2009. 2nd Prize Poetry Winner of Ken Saro-Wiwa Contest, USA  2010, won the June Loudthotz Poetry contest 2011 and directed the overall winning Poetry performance of district 5 Education Board for the Lagos State Jam Feast Competition 2011, his poems have been published in the ‘Lime Jewel’ collection-London 2010 and other publications. His poetry performances has been seen on Bookshelves-LTV8, 9ja TV, Tinapa Trade Expo 2008, Lagos State Trade Fair EKO-EXPO 20011, Wordslam 1,2,3 & 4, Poetry Potter, Potters Lounge, Anthill, Pen Society among others,  presently, he is  an independent television presenter with Konto Music and works towards his new spoken-word-rap album titled E’FI MI LE’ joo’or.

Adieu Papa

Enlarge poem

My pen dribbles in sad red ink
as I write this momentarily dirge
To unwrite your sad absence from us
As a father, you showered us with unceasing,
Unseasonal and Unscripted concern that amazed fathers.
You were there when the sun sworn to shine us dry
yet you pleaded with the rain to still stay
Beside us and never let our feet get fevered.
As a guardian, you led us through prudent path
that knows no material or canal inclinations.
You are a muse among a thousand inspirations,
the true action behind cheering motivations
and the eventual victory of the last standing gladiator.
You made us walk when we can’t run,
You ensured we crawl when we cant walk
through the huddle, you kept our muscles moving
As a teacher, you taught us many truths
that were not told by orators and pastors.
You told us that consciousness is an uncommon life
in the depth of worst uncommon lifelessness.
You taught us what Mandela taught South Africa
That dignity….dignity…dignity is personality.
So much you gave to us in this throne
of our thatched wall home.
As a leader, you showed us how not to fall
Even when our legs are badly crumbled
and our clutches totally stumbled
with a heart that is terribly bungled.
You said, never say die! Never call pain a woe,
never call tears blood, never call blood death,
and never call death the end.
You are indomitable in the domain of death
because you live again in our strength,
our faith, our communion and our reason.
We, in one heart, one love, one bond,
one cord, and one word, one thought…
cry for the rivers to overflow and flood our eyes.
The seed of your heroic creed and deeds
shall never root in concrete soil or stretching sea
instead it shall find it growth in our hearts.
May your gentle soul sail to continue
the struggle there… beyond
for only when our mass is free
can you find a mind to rest in peace.
Adieu papa.

Featured Poem:

Walls of unending scars

Enlarge poem

I have seen
The four walls
Coated with gory hand-prints
Of criminals and suspects
In-scripting awkwardness
Pleading for a public presentation

I stared at slogans
Screaming….
“we die…innocent”
“i was here”
“and so what”
“are you the president?”
“dem go fire me”
“na today”
“…save us”

My heart tears my eyes
And the graffiti spawns
Ceaselessly…

My head smothers
As ravaging foul odour
Of urine and shit
Shutters me to worship
At the walls of unending scars
With my own “craze-words”.

Hell is cell!
The black bowl
Smiths into a black hole
Bloats for the unborn convict
Guilty – of life, wanting to survive
…raiding flames at night
…beaming red in flight
…yellow coal for ice
Collies for the burning
Of our already hurt hearts.

“Pollease”…police
Poll for faults
Lease of crimes
To catch and lock our lives
Into the bloating black hole
Of a cell.

And so
The walls persist
A writing cry of the weak
Dying…to die today
And died…. Tomorrow
WILL DIE NO MORE.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (1)
  • Delight (1)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (4)
  • Captivation (3)
  • Peace (2)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (3)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (1)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Adieu Papa

Enlarge poem

My pen dribbles in sad red ink
as I write this momentarily dirge
To unwrite your sad absence from us
As a father, you showered us with unceasing,
Unseasonal and Unscripted concern that amazed fathers.
You were there when the sun sworn to shine us dry
yet you pleaded with the rain to still stay
Beside us and never let our feet get fevered.
As a guardian, you led us through prudent path
that knows no material or canal inclinations.
You are a muse among a thousand inspirations,
the true action behind cheering motivations
and the eventual victory of the last standing gladiator.
You made us walk when we can’t run,
You ensured we crawl when we cant walk
through the huddle, you kept our muscles moving
As a teacher, you taught us many truths
that were not told by orators and pastors.
You told us that consciousness is an uncommon life
in the depth of worst uncommon lifelessness.
You taught us what Mandela taught South Africa
That dignity….dignity…dignity is personality.
So much you gave to us in this throne
of our thatched wall home.
As a leader, you showed us how not to fall
Even when our legs are badly crumbled
and our clutches totally stumbled
with a heart that is terribly bungled.
You said, never say die! Never call pain a woe,
never call tears blood, never call blood death,
and never call death the end.
You are indomitable in the domain of death
because you live again in our strength,
our faith, our communion and our reason.
We, in one heart, one love, one bond,
one cord, and one word, one thought…
cry for the rivers to overflow and flood our eyes.
The seed of your heroic creed and deeds
shall never root in concrete soil or stretching sea
instead it shall find it growth in our hearts.
May your gentle soul sail to continue
the struggle there… beyond
for only when our mass is free
can you find a mind to rest in peace.
Adieu papa.

Comments

Your email address will not be published.