Tony Cemaluk Poems

PROMISE not pounded yam when you can't
pound pounded yam; worst, under oath,
when you can, but compromise instead to pound cocoyam.
...

She did not hire hands,
She became the hands.

Carton upon carton,
...

She fought a war without war weaponry,
No gun, no sword, no army at her gate.

Planting season,1974.
...

She marched, rather than wandered.
She marched in the wilderness of Widowhood
without windows of hope, of help.
...

For close to four decades,
It has stood on marble.

Not on sand.
...

They said Nwanyi can't do this,
Can't eat that,
Can't own this,
Can't mount that.
...

They buried a man, Malukwuo, in planting season,1974,
But they planted the heir, Cemaluk.

Death buried him to sleep,
...

They thought the compound fell
Because its walls were low and loose,
Because its gates were wooden and weak,
Because its zinc had rust and dust.
...

She did not hire carriers.
She became the carrier.
And I became the carrier, too.
We became the carriers.
...

The lights dimmed one by one,
as we held hands in the dark, one last time,
no goodbye — only quiet of silence,
grip loosed, left our cold, feeble hands
...