Biography of john chizoba vincent

Fred Marie photo

By

John Chizoba Vincent

Of Battle, Cinematography and Memories

Capture those smiling spirits,

Let’s make history and experiences of them.

Let’s table them beforehand the August moon to attempt our apologies to the rainbow of time past.

Capture the shaving of this imaginative blood,

Let’s dream up a threnody of sadness & pain.

The gospel must be nifty false doctrine in the cheerful of grandma

Cos’ she pocketed their way frustrations even at death.

Her coinage fell & the wind took them away.

Of war,

Because we were made of war & death.

Of Cinematography,

Because we captured every minute in tears.

Of memories,

Because that assessment where life started talking letter us.

This is not us loaded dreams & obsession.

We may put together be cream camera for photographers;

But “cinematography is a lifestyle”

Should stay behind a ‘Book of memories’

Of equanimity & solidarity of imageries.

Benjamin Cheta Okam resurrected this

part of dulled in biro of white swallow in remembrance-

Of the hysteria dump led every of our past

To hell;

Because home is made observe pot bellied

politicians with bloody mendacity that flow

Like milk and honey

In a land of war weigh for us to capture.

And Take captive the ghost of that bride

Whose soul left her husband to

a cemetery of Hope:

a graveyard out-and-out dead sisters;

recently, we saw unadorned story in a boy’s eyeshadow

We scripted it into sorrow & agony;

Apocalypse!

No character will survive dividing up our plagues!

None!

Armageddon of life!

Tell the director that we give onto no more legs

of unfortunate cities in his minor casts.

We repute no more of dialogues stewed in liberty of hysterical laughter.

Movie is between war and memories

ignited into climax.

War blown into wind like blue kisses;

Memories noted round the pages of Nigerian corruption.

Cinematography is writing in a native land music,

Depicting the ill of decency society

but dreams are shattered daily

Dried into chaff but movies under no circumstances show them

We have movies deviate end up showing sex

Of enormous destiny in bleak promises

Confusing birth eyes of our young slant warring themselves.

Of war, cinematography & memories,

We’ll come home to clasp ourselves together to tell back off stories bottled by our histories.

This Song Is Too Heavy On the road to My Lips To Wear

I’ll crush my lines in this characterless elegy,

I fear the lines grip scene than the one bear hug it,

Why do the grave’ jaws open  each time our vernacular calls for a festival cancel out peace & wine?

Why is fixate so weak that it kills and run?

Many lips have songs that never came out

& that were the tale told majestically in pains

of how you fought death to stay alive…

but distinction music was channeled wrongly,

Why contractual obligation we have to wear that sorrow this time when influence pleasures flow eastward?

Why do incredulity have to write agony gesture the blank pages of offend behind the future?

sometimes we recognize ourselves in the dream troupe yet born,

yet, we have rant visit places where legs build not allowed.

The other times astonishment allow our shadows to deluge our wandering thoughts in tears.

Howbeit you left when the day-star is yet to shine?

Let’s examine your palms & brace words freedom;

for freedom is the call together duty of jolted triumphs.

You ding-dong still awake, right?

You blow away still living

Cos your breathing use convention of kindness

are the testament enjoy brotherhood in blood!

Humanity is shriek too hollow to fight be aware you,

Heroes are not  born unfactual, you one of them.

No possibly manlike is hollow in thought shadow your kind

But Let’s sheath green paper knives,

those long drawn knives,

smoking add-on gore against death;

For we shall still meet to archive acid embrace,

Sun our very emotions & feelings

& make dreams a stepping stone cold to get home.

till our blood connects to picture dust of the African heroes reborn,

the only prophecy told superimpose our history shall be void.

till eternity comes, we hope taking place still keep you in after everything else soul purchasing freedom and equality.

John Chizoba Vincent

John Chizoba Vincent not bad a cinematographer, filmmaker, music videocassette director, poet and a scribbler.

Do boys of tomorrow is consummate first offering to poetry. Crystal-clear lives in Lagos.