Cliffs that rise a thousand feet
Without a break,
Lake that stretches a hundred miles
Without a wave,
Sands that are white through all the year,
Without a stain,
Pine-tree woods, winter and summer
Ever-green,
Streams that for ever flow and flow
Without a pause,
Trees that for twenty thousand years
Your vows have kept,
You have suddenly healed the pain of a traveller’s heart,
And moved his brush to write a new song.
Tochukwu Ezebube is a passionate poet and founder of Poem Collections. With a deep love for African verse and a commitment to sharing diverse poetic voices, Tochukwu curates a rich tapestry of poems that celebrate the beauty of words from Africa and around the world. Join him on this poetic journey at Poem Collections, where the magic of language unfolds.
BEFORE YOU, mother Idoto*,Naked I stand;Before your watery presence,A prodigalLeaning on an oilbean,Lost in your legend.Under your power wait Ion barefoot,watchman for the watchwordat Heavensgate;out of the depths my cry:give ear and hearken… DARK WATERS of the beginning.Rays, violet and short, piercing the gloom,Foreshadow the fire that is dreamed of.Rainbow on far side, arched like…
The Sun Rising by John Donne Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus,Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices;Love, all alike, no…
we cannot see far into the distance neither can we see what used to stand there but today we can see trees separated by wind and air and if we dare to look beneath the soil we will find roots reaching out for each other and in their silent inter-twining create the hidden landscape of…
To praise the blue whale’s crystal jet, To write, ‘O fountain!’ honouring a spout Provokes this curse: ‘The high are humbled yet’ From those who humble Godhead, beasthood, verse. Once, the Lord raised this bulwark to our eyes, Once, in our seas, whales threshed, The harpooner was common. Once, I…
To visualize what you can’t see: That’s the paradoxical pleasure of the mind. In the afterbirth of seeing, Death of imagination. To dally on the brink of reality: That’s the snug of life. In the capitulation of the summit, Paradoxical disappointment. Now is the legend beyond Become the cliche of the elements. Shall the synthetic…
People of the City by Cyprian Ekwensi narrates the city life of Amusa Sango who doubles as a crime reporter for West African Sensation and leader of the band music players. He plays at the All Language Club where he thrills the hearts of many women with his music. His stay in the city is…
