Rain Upon Us

By Francis Annagu

Rain Upon us is a reflection of Africa's post colonial calamity. A book that ravels Africa's troubling present and a good collection of poems aimed at challenging stereotypical thinking by the author.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Classic age Publishing
• Release date: Dec 13, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994706904

Francis Annagu

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Francis Annagu is an award winning poet. He read Political Science at the Kaduna State University, Kaduna-Nigeria. He writes in mind-blowing images, received the PIN Special Mention, PIN Most Awarded Poet 2016 and has been shortlisted for the Erbacce Poetry Prize in England. He was featured on the Blog Talk Radio, nominated for the Nigerian Students Poetry Prize and a Poets In Nigeria Connect Centre Representative. His poems have appeared in over twenty-five international poetry magazines, in Galway Review, Kalahari Review, Ayiba Magazine, London Grip Poetry Magazine, Crannog Magazine, Potomac Journal, Lunaris Review, Expound Magazine and elsewhere; including poetry anthologies and blogs. Author of the forthcoming poetry book "Our Land In The Beak Of  Vultures".

Book preview

AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

––––––––

It is with great delight I thank the milk-bearer of life, God Almighty for His grace and as I am elated to say; He alone made it possible for this worthwhile poetry book to come out successfully.

Special thanks goes to my parents Mr and Mrs Yohanna Annagu for the unequaled encouragement they gave me when the hurricane twirled at my door. Gratitude to Prof. Ntim Gyakari Esew who first saw the manuscript and warmed me up to publish, Dr. Tukur AbdulQadir, Dr. Patrick Peter, HOD Department of Political Science, Kaduna State University. Also, I appreciate the congratulations of Dr. Ahmad Abdulqadir, Dean Faculty of Social and Management Sciences, Kaduna StateUniversity.

More appreciation goes to DSP Alex Annagu, Bayero Enoch, Jacqueline Muhimbise, Eriata Oribhabor, remain grateful for those kernel of encouragement. My pleasure to thank John Onogwu, Sebi Masimene, Muhammed Shehu, Bavoshia Asake, Salome Obiorah and Ssenyonjo Brian Ushers.

Also, special thanks to Mustapha Yakubu Mallambe, Iyabo Ogunwale, Phumla Xusa, Charity Maisamari, Bose Ayeni-Tsevende, Snow Photos (Narayi), Anna Tsaku, Isma'ila Muhammed, Olga Boguslavskaya and Barbara Ehrentreu,  American poet and author. Finally, to my humble publisher and author  Vukulu Sizwe Maphindani, I say accept my twenty carats of thanks.

DEDICATION

––––––––

On the journey of life

Under Africa's canopy sun,

In the rudderless boat of dark souls sail

Strong stand I like an Iroko tree

On triumphant bones with nourishing beniseeds

And the bountiful trinkets of the Lord,

To loudly dedicate these poems

To those drenched in brine and blood of life,

When the ravaging sandstorm

Twirl them upon plastic backs

Of tired emaciated cattle.

To those with magnificent dreams and visions

Trampled by railway coaches, the traffic light

Refused to show the direction to the parliament house.

To those barefooted trekking in muddied soil,

Through some bitting cobblestones

With rattling snakes scarecrows

Where are summoned, the mocking vultures.

And to those wanting sun glow to pass

Through under belly of the rickety bridge

Toward something anew, to see.

To them who promenade in night rains

That flood their last cowrie shell in a garbage tunnel.

It is midday with clouds and shooting stars,

Find would you in these compositions,

The shears to harvest the good firewood of life.

The Mountain and the hares

He stood muscular on a burrowed Clay meadow, mountain

Staring brightly at the brittle yellow clouds,

Dark sun-tan skin stripped

Naked by the amorous sun

Around his broad loins unmannerly

Though like a dove,

Where flowing rains, sprint

Slowly like a mule,

Continuously rubbing the acreage,

Heady at ease.

Two wet hares feasted

On the vegetative chives-fallowed

Conveniently under his

Feet,

A summer crust delight, as

Their peaked ears

Point to the damask sky with love.

Stabbed Souls

From fallow harvests thresh-field,

He enmeshed, watchful,

The hapless and unshaven souls

About sacksful stench of village strife,

In procession to the subterranean shrine.

Their mouth-roofs shipwreck on Bougarabou drums,

Cluttered with subdued nightfall in the shadow Teak,

Blabbering solicitous-cries unheard,

Like a mad madam ploughing her teeth.

The watchman

Pointing in dismal flare,

How fondness night hides the gleaming sun,

While subtle eventide of tormented souls

Stagger, groan and stagger on shrunken metal hope;

From humiliating traverse to the burning cave,

Holden in frontage of the bleeding moon,

Whose bovine backs stabbed by the spirits-bearer,

Denied their priest and persecutor.