Ann Arbor Review

INSIDE THIS ISSUE:

Lana Bella
Deji W. Adesoye
Chris Lord
Ali Znaidi
Francis Annagu
Olajide Vincent Ajise
Lyn Lifshin
Akor Emmanuel
Duane Locke
Running Cub
Paul B. Roth
Fahredin Shehu
Laszlo Slomovits
Silvia Scheibli
Michelle Bailat-Jones
Amit Parmessur
Irsa Ruci
Elisavietta Ritchie
Alex Ferde

Richard Gartee
Robert Nisbet
Alan Britt
Changming Yuan
Nahshon Cook
Peycho Kanev
Jennifer Burd
Fred Wolven

Karyn M. Bruce
 

 


Ann Arbor Review

is an independent

International Journal & ezine

Copyright (c) 2016 Francis Ferde
All rights revert back to each poet.
--editor / Southeastern Florida
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AAR history note:  in print 1967 - 1980.  Irregular publications 1980 - 2004.  As ezine 2004 - present. Most of 47 years all together....

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staff:
Francis Ferde
Silver Grey Fox
Running Cub
Fred Wolven
 

Submissions via e-mail:

poetfred@att.net
 

 

THE FUNERAL OF BABA

The rummaging sun was etching
On the grimace of the moon
Beyond our black-numb foots
While somber breeze, gloomy
Clouds weeping sonorous from the
Sky, once sun-lit now ridges of darkness.

The mighty darkness like haunting
Ghosts gathered beyond deplorable
Graves stately sitting on fermented mountains
Where the Owls, Bats and Vultures
Caw-caw with loudness of burning woods
In rowdy turns typical of a night life
Hovering on tattered wings across
The ageing catacombs heralds the
Sorrow joy encirclement reminding
Us of the death of Baba,
The hunter,

We stood with red faces
And tongues clutched to mouth roofs
Because the plentiful ness of horror
Rumbling like rattles drumming through
The voluminous darkness formed
From a broom of smoke
Collapse our heads,
Neglecting the casked palm-wine and
Acrid smell of fish
Served on the day of Baba's evening-call,

But we do not bother
How unforgiven our rest may seem
In this tempestuous night,
We must complete his circle of life.



BLACKBIRD

The blackbird wandered
Lonely in the night
From gleaming stars
Staring twinkly from the sky.
He turns up and flutters off
With the whiffs blowing
Throbs of beats in the
Lawn and green hills,
Lapel flapping wings
On a high cliff crest
Fell him upon a Mango
Bough to set at sun,
To fritter his day
Playing songs between
The blue rivers and reefs.

 

 

Francis Annagu, Kaduna, Nigeria

   


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