Poetry is often defined with the stringing of three words – emotions, images and recollection. Perhaps, to go by Wordsworth’s classic definition, tranquility also joins the longer string. But there is one important, always-present element in every reflection that is enduring enough to be called poetry – truth.
This word, truth, is the word that would define this collection — if we were to pick a single, all-encompassing word that defines it. Written with nationalist ideas in mind, John Chizoba Vincent paints a picture of a remote hamlet, a tawny village, a buzzing city and a blue-and-green universe on the verge of destruction, as fueled by several anti-societal vices each of the poem discusses