Post on 08-Dec-2021
Copyright © Antoni Okafor, 2016.
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permission in writing from the author.
Published by Praxis Magazine
Website: www.paxismagonline.com
Address: Plot D49 Nsukka Street, Garki, Abuja 970001 Nigeria
Cover Art: © Robert Rhodes, 2016
Book Design/Layout: Antoni Okafor & Laura M Kaminski
i | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
Contents
Foreword .................................................................................................................................... ii
i. war gongs ............................................................................................................................... 1
ii. sheep ..................................................................................................................................... 3
iii. wolves .................................................................................................................................. 5
iv. masquerades ......................................................................................................................... 7
v. communion ........................................................................................................................... 9
vi. folly .................................................................................................................................... 11
vii. ablutions ............................................................................................................................ 13
viii. broken windows ............................................................................................................... 15
ix. stargazers ........................................................................................................................... 17
x. truths & tyranny .................................................................................................................. 19
xi. remembrance ...................................................................................................................... 21
Acknowledgments.................................................................................................................... 22
About the Cover Art................................................................................................................. 22
About the Author ..................................................................................................................... 22
ii | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
Foreword
I first encountered JK Anowe’s poetry in Gnarled Oak Issue 4: A Parachute in the Wind
during July 2015. I was intrigued by his poem “Fragments” and sought out the poet on
Facebook in the hope of finding more of his work. I will admit to being a little surprised to
discover that JK Anowe was, in fact, the penname of Antoni Okafor, at that time a student in
the Department of Foreign Languages at the University of Benin.
During the months between then and now, we have become friends, colleagues, and
collaborators; we have been published together in collaboration with artwork by Melissa D.
Johnston (artist, poet, and editor of Creative Thresholds) at Poetry Life & Times. It is an
honor and delight for me, then, to have the pleasure of introducing his first publicly-available
collection here at Praxis Magazine in digital chapbook form: The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries:
a parable for paranoia.
a parable for paranoia is the first of a series of chapbook-length epistles. In this first epistle,
the narrative persona resonates with a somber lyric quality reminiscent of the scripture and
hymns of various faith traditions, and the poems do contain religious references, but a
parable for paranoia is far from a psalm or praise-song. Instead, its eleven poems take the
measure of the actions and attentions of gods and historic figures, and find them wanting.
While a parable for paranoia is far from the first collection of poems I’ve read that sets out
to take a critical accounting of gods and men, it is the first I’ve encountered where the
narrative persona remains consistently solemn and dignified, where melancholy does not
degenerate to melodrama, mourning does not degrade to whining, where challenge and
disagreement are presented not as uncontrolled rage, but rather as a quiet indictment of the
insufficiencies of old gods and leaders. These poems are a lyric documentation of the
inadequacies of past guardians and guides, and perhaps also our own historic inadequacies in
the roles of believers and followers.
The narrative persona of this epistle manages to retain an uncommon dignity, not of posing in
pride, but of whatever that part is that is left of a person after all betrayals, abandonments,
insults, and injustices have been suffered – whatever part remains after all else has been
stripped away, the voice of the speaker in “vii. ablutions” who says: but his tongue was his /
and mine is not under leash.
I invite you to move forward and join the narrator of a parable for paranoia to explore what
remains steadfast within the ruins. And when you have finished reading these poems, keep an
eye open for the next two epistles forthcoming in the series: ije [poems away from home] and
twelve leftover baskets.
Selah.
Laura M Kaminski (Halima Ayuba),
March 2016
iii | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
“…He has put a knife
on the things
that held us together
and we have fallen
apart…”
- Chinua Achebe
1 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
i. war gongs
that my strength may not be lost
Ikemefuna
dust shaken off your feet
was the remains of peace
when war gongs beckoned
the calm heave of beating chests
the sterility of virgin breasts
tied with tendrils of fear
Ikemefuna
did a people
not welcome sacrilege
like prodigal hands
spilling blood upon
land longing for water
Ikemefuna
the stench of hypocrisy
nauseates my patriotism
your blood cries louder than abel’s
yearning for the eyes of God’s ears
yearning for the raining season
of fruitful tears
sweetened with negligence
your blood is incarnate
of my name
Ikemefuna
ede leaves over our crownless
heads like shields
blocking arrows of rain
and of gods that separate
our ruins from their gains
as mother would do
2 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
shells from snails
when again would cocks
remember morn and chant
their fearless psalms
when again would
tongue taste voice
Ikemefuna
this distance has
taken more than
it has given
and the moan
of the gong
draws nigh
Ikemefuna
breath is melting
to ashes in my lungs
3 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
ii. sheep
can you smell
Ikemefuna
the rotten wails
of our nocturnal souls
exhumed distraughtly
from indignant holes
from the miserly leniency
of your unforgiving
fathers and mine
we make sail
paddling into dreams
where divided we stand
rocking in typhoons
of yesterday’s fart
we are broken
Ikemefuna
like mother’s favorite china
in the sand
an ensemble
of discordant tunes
procumbent as dust
this land
where sheep is sheep
and shepherd
in wolf clothing clad
do you think i never
loved her enough
this house
with no roof
over our shaven heads
this lorn fireplace
cold with lore
and dea(r)th
4 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
your blood like oil palm
upon one finger soils another
ours is a fight of blame
bearing touches that unite follies
like speckles of flame
infinite as the universe
intercede for us
Ikemefuna
for naked gods
cannot clothe us
intercede for us
will our stars still set
their souls ablaze
a day after forever
5 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
iii. wolves
are we not done yet
Ikemefuna
the unleavened tears of shrill cries
flooding my country-shores
have filled our eardrums
as words do empty slates
what have we not done
Ikemefuna
lions now roam our goat-stead
hungry roars feeding on baaing fears
we are wretched
beyond honor sire
like soup deprived salt
brothers buying birthrights
commonly sold as garri
in the misjudgments
of markets that bloom
like sunflowers at dawn
and the sun makes
known her own folly
hazy portraits hang
like corpses
on battered walls
broken exhibits
of an exalted
coat of arms
falling walls
like the goliath
yet no david
before him stands
rats of our household
have told tedious tales
of fish sizzling at the fireplace
6 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
pray for us
Ikemefuna
kneel for us
that the devil
may not be sent
to do God’s work
7 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
iv. masquerades
the law is an ass
Ikemefuna
and justice
its pungent fart
it is the wilt of fresh air
bathing our perspired graces
sweeter than shortcomings
suffixed in the heave
of our menopausal hearts
beating madly
madly beaten
like drums
inviting masquerades
to a dance
the wind blunt
as the eunuch
between raven legs
celebrates our wake
puppets to the prowess
of pitiful politics
we prance
epileptic under the rigmarole
of their strings
would you rather bask
in the solemnity of silence
whose shroud our mothers
dilapidated in childbirth
whose barns our fathers
fill with yams from mounds
of cowardice
bless us Ikemefuna
for we have sinned
we have preached
8 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
the gospel
of sin
bless us
for we come threadbare
and shredded
neither in peace
nor in paining penance
9 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
v. communion
come
Ikemefuna
and sit
sip from the innocence
of your teats
in the cradled dimness
candlelights evade
come
it is not a love story
that so pricks my lips
it is a story about love
of how it would howl
like a hurricane
of liberty
that is now the jailer
would ours truly be ours
Ikemefuna
lending forth
ruptures of remembrance
to our deserted hearts
bleak and bitter as truth
sneaking from bosoms
of history
like sleep
will death be friendly
coming and going through
these forsaken seasons
we throw claws at selves
as hawk derisively do prey
famished beaks groping
like spades
like swords
peeling the foreskins
off our hearts
since groins can no more
in potent pleasures plough
bind us Ikemefuna
10 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
hero and hypocrite
limitlessly sticking out tongues
to savor communion
unbind us
crumb for crumb
love is dead
as are the gods
deaf with fear
11 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
vi. folly
am i not
God’s fool
Ikemefuna
sublime and crude
have i not stood
by my countryside
to watch the ways of my fathers
burn with rapid vigor
like dry grass in harmattan
seldomly
did i slaughter silence
as father
would have done son
before the lamb’s
portrayal of propriety
i watched
the tottering limbs
of hyperbolic lads
feign courage
i felt fingers
against triggers
tremble as earthquakes
i heard the cries
of damsels
defiled in dense bushes
and soldiers buckling belts
over their distresses
i saw them grin
like bats
infidels throwing rotten ugwu
like scented roses
at the feet of chi
before resonations
of gunpowder drifted
like melancholic clouds
and the painlessness
of breath exited
like a silent fart
12 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
and in this dream
begotten in a dream
Ikemefuna
i know heaven
is not obliged
13 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
vii. ablutions
should i implore you
Ikemefuna
to save us
from these quests
that even our reluctance
do not ply
should we hope
to shred foreskins
from the wagging tails
of rainbows
forty days after
fornication with the flood
or do we wait to watch
the carnivores feed
of the floating bodies
of dead doers
Ikemefuna
are the fingers
of a child not scalded
by a piece of hot yam
its mother places
upon its palm
are we to forever feast
in the fictional abundance
of dwarfed giants
are we to travel
the great darkness beyond
without sequins for keeper
kissing our cold eyelids
tell ikemba
that my brothers
for many silent rains
and market days
aimlessly drowned
like faithless fishes
in the red sea
of his ambition
pray tell him
14 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
he is no hero to me
for we may
upon this cohesion
of a fragmented fable
share ablutions
or beneath it pour libations
of unleavened wine
but his tongue was his
and mine is not under leash
pray tell him
Ikemefuna
that there is
nothing to fear
of one who shouts
15 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
viii. broken windows
we live in a house
of broken windows
a waterfall of hope
like cascades
of grave-building-stones
upon our lukewarm souls
no vent to lend the sun a peep
no tear in the eye
not a voice to scream
our ways
are deemed uncouth
the heart
hard as haram
o’ knave
of the house of unoka
because we do not cringe
to the cold sting
of holy water biting our skins
because we do not swallow
communion
of their tabernacles
nor answer of the belfry
chiming their porous poetries…
our rash-ridden buttocks
are the ones that boast
of all fermented stupor
because a seat
we do not share
in a holy place
of unfeigned faith
but i dare ask
Ikemefuna
that like the clouds
formed of God’s poetry
yet yielding to the atrocities
of a rainmaker
16 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
is a pagan not he that
blatantly bestows beliefs
like olive oil
watery as yellow urine
on the royal scalp of opacity
17 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
ix. stargazers
tonight
Ikemefuna
our flags
shall flap
upside down
like snoring bats
hanging low
in the graceful guise
of rickety rags
tonight
the stars
shall not peek out
from the shrewdness
of their lair
tonight
they shall be
the gazers
and we
in the lavish
slumber of loners
wandering like priests
without parishes
shall fumble
with the glorious gait
of lucifer and his angels
tonight
Ikemefuna
i shall not ask
answers of you
i shall not ask
for the resolution
we lazily seek in leashing
our umbilical cords
to our necks
that we may hang from
our mothers’ wombs
like saro-wiwa
18 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
i shall not ask
for the other half
of a yellow sun
a promise
a sour song
ikemba bored
into our faltering hearts
i shall not ask
for hope
tomorrow’s coward
i would rather ask
that crowns be polished
with the same reverence
as beggars’ plates
19 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
x. truths & tyranny
Ikemefuna
now that truth stands
naked under the bogus blee
of a sickle moon
short lived by the tyranny and
uncanny breed of gravid clouds
man forgets how
to forge erection
he forgets civility betwixt
finger and egusi seed
he lays to rest every climax
like the baby moses in one basket
letting it float on rivulets
of wet dreams towards
shorelands of our doomed nobility
but what is man without hood
Ikemefuna
a log of bamboo whose
only memory is ash in hearth
after fire intercourses
a god drunk on libation
drooling from its own gourd
where is the liberality
of sleep
if i can visit
you no more in my dreams
Ikemefuna
truth is now salt
sprinkled to preserve
open blisters
truth is now whore
unwilling to spread thighs
and this effulgence
beyond the reluctant
glow of stars
20 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
this descent of hueless rain
from the bleakness beyond
skyless nights births clarity
descending as litter from
the broken gates of heaven
21 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
xi. remembrance
remember
the last time
we met
Ikemefuna
under the theatrical shade
of desert trees
where time said
neither nay nor aye
to the merry sun
that baked our crinkled backs
like burnt bread
remember
the dreams
we shared
of fishermen
casting broken nets
of soldiers dying
unjustified deaths
you said
dreams lost
are dreams found
and war gongs
are playthings
of idle gods
you said
we neither are ally
nor fo(e)lly
to the radish essence
flowing in our veins
even in the intricacies
of our fettered births
you said
life would be
our habitual headstones
if only we were
old enough to die young
22 | JK Anowe The IKEMEFUNA Tributaries
a parable for paranoia
Acknowledgments
The author would like to thank the editors of africanwriter.com for publishing earlier versions
of the first three poems in this epistle: 3 poems in this epistle - war gongs, sheep, and wolves.
About the Cover Art
“March study: Early morning fog, from an unfamiliar window.” Oil on canvas, Robert
Rhodes. Used with permission.
About the Author
JK Anowe is a Nigerian poet whose works have appeared at Brittle Paper, Gnarled Oak,
Poetry Life & Times, Expound and African Writer. He is chronically introverted and
finalizing a full-length collection of poems. A few of his poems have been translated into
French & Spanish. He is a recipient of a Festus Iyayi Award for Excellence (poetry),
University of Benin, and blogs at gulliblegimmicks.blogspot.com. Anowe writes from
somewhere in Nigeria. You can follow him on Facebook @ Antoni C. Okafor.