HOUSE OF SYMBOLS

HOUSE OF SYMBOLS – By John Chizoba Vincent

this is the house we were made.
a house papa and mama’s colors joined together.
we have the map of this building in our palms,
we could not allow it to exile us like the tortoise
who exiled its shell in times of trouble to the unknown.
we grew around its brokenness and shame.
we cuddled her in days of tears and laughter!
we defended its territories jealously from the whites.
the broken clay is for grandmother’s bravery.
she fought gallantly like a gladiator during the Civil War.
those skulls are the enemies of the family whom Okonkwo
slew before the sun learned to journey west.
those trees are the numbers of children in the household,
the Ugba tree represents Kambili, the wisest of all.
the Iroko represent Okonkwo, the last of the strong ones.
I am the obeche, Chioma is the Hibiscus down there;
Ifunanya is the palm tree on top of that hill…
and others are those green grass spread in the courtyard.
we have seen the season come and go like the moon,
we grew with the fragments of these clay walls running
as if tomorrow is crafted in our palms to love.
the horse on top of the house is the strength that upholds our dignity,
those Eagles standing side by side of the house
are the power of greatness before the earth.
this y-axis is the perfect division of nature
and the green grasses are of fertility and prosperity.
we grew around this fearless deity watching
Papa pours a libation with smiling lips…
Disney is of no world compare to ours in heart,
Titanic was never a better place to be when our house stands.
many have written off this great edifice with empathy,
this is our home, a house made of many symbols.

image credit: Film Republic Pictures

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John chizoba Vincent is a poet, Novelist, Music Video Director, cinematographer, film maker and Editor. He hails from Abia state, Nigeria

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HOUSE OF SYMBOLS

By John Chizoba Vincent

this is the house we were made.
a house papa and mama’s colors joined together.
we have the map of this building in our palms,
we could not allow it to exile us like the tortoise
who exiled its shell in times of trouble to the unknown.
we grew around its brokenness and shame.

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