Reviews

Collected Poems by Chinua Achebe

blueskygreentreesyellowsun's review

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2.0

I don't think I like poetry very much.

lokster71's review against another edition

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4.0

I've read two of Achebe's novels - Things Fall Apart and Anthills of the Savannah - and had been wanting to read some of his poetry since. Thanks to Acton Library's surprisingly good poetry section I managed to get my grubby little protuberances on this.

It's a fine collection, with an amusing introduction and some notes to help you find your way around some of the references within the poems. There are poems about love, war and Gods (or God). The 'Poems About War' section focuses on events in and around Biafra. There's darkness here. And anger.

There are too many good poems in here for me to mention individually but I really loved 'Vultures' and 'Beware Soul Brothers' and 'A Wake For Okigbo'

Well worth a read.

zoepevans's review against another edition

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emotional reflective slow-paced

4.25

rakkaussipsi's review

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reflective

4.0

numbersarereal's review against another edition

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5.0

Still without a doubt the greatest author

unniechan's review

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4.0

Gives off a wide range of emotions from very sad to happy. Very descriptive on the circumstance of the time. The authors descriptions are vivid as well.

marilwyd's review against another edition

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challenging emotional fast-paced

4.0

very short collection. i wish he had written more poetry. most poems are short and accessible, but deep and full of meaning.

jordi's review

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3.0

Me gustaron especialmente los poemas de la guerra. Supongo que son los mas impactantes.
Algunos de los otros, he de reconocer que no los comprendi demasiado bien, quiza no los lei con el detenimiento adecuado (cambiando estaciones en el tren...)

En general, interesantes pero no me han llamado demasiado.

delaneyswann's review against another edition

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adventurous challenging emotional funny mysterious sad tense fast-paced

4.0

anabrca's review

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4.0

A Mother in a Refugee Camp

No Madonna and Child could touch
Her tenderness for a son
She soon could have to forget….
The air was heavy with odors of diarrhea,
Of unwashed children with washed-out ribs
And dried-up bottoms waddling in labored steps
Behind blown-empty bellies. Other mothers there
Had long ceased to care, but not this one:
She held a ghost-smile between her teeth,
And in her eyes the memory
Of a mother's pride…. She had bathed him
And rubbed him down with bare palms.
She took from their bundle of possessions
A broken comb and combed
The rust-colored hair left on his skull
And then—humming in her eyes—began carefully to part it.
In their former life this was perhaps
A little daily act of no consequence
Before his breakfast and school; now she did it
Like putting flowers on a tiny grave