by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 5, 2015 | POEMS
BEAUTIFUL TROUBLE
Baba Risi has gone
to the market
to bargain for goods
not foods
nor clothings
Baba Risi has gone
to the market
to buy feud
war,
envy,
and apathy,
Baba Risi pocket is filled
and leaking
with gold
So,
he has gone to the market
to acquire trouble
The elders says
when you seek trouble
and it refuse you
seek another wife
Baba Risi has gone
to the house of Ogunmoyero
to seek for Aduke’s hand
in conjugal
He has given unto them
wine and kolanut
Beautiful trouble
Baba Risi has built
another hut in his courtyard
in preparation of Aduke’s arrival
The huts in Baba Risi’s courtyard
Is now four
Baba Risi has acquire
with his money,
beautiful trouble.
ODEBODE KARIMOT
About the Author
Odebode Karimot is an undergraduate of Law in the prestigious Obafemi
Awolowo University,ile-ife.A passionate poet who derive internal peace
in conversing with her muse.She is the second of four children born
and bred in the ancient city of Ibadan,Nigeria.She believe the world
can be driven in the right direction with her pen.
Click here for your new site
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 4, 2015 | POEMS
WHAT WE SEE
We see bullets of different shapes,
houses without walls, streets bereft
of feet, trees burdened with swollen
bodies, a field of corpses. bedsheets
stained with blood of those whose
spirits roam in the air.
What we see
We see the sky garnished with darkness,
children calling their parents’ names
with tears dotting their faces.
We see the holes in the moon,
the dirges in the songs of the
birds that howl as we leave to
mourn our beloveds.
RASAQ MALIK
About the Author
Rasaq Malik is a graduate of the University of Ibadan. His poems have appeared in online literary journals and magazines. He is presently awaiting the publication of his debut poetry collection.
Click here for your new site
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 2, 2015 | SHORT STORIES
THE LAST DELIVERY
Sam is at his window. The house is emptier than ever. He just came back from a conference on new methods of brain surgery. As usual he played a compilation of old french love songs; those songs from the 60’s have a cooling effect on his nerves and a refreshing one on his memories. Marcia… And always that name… Passing by slowly and silently like a smooth wind from the silent sea at dusk, touching and embracing his whole body. The young doctor brings up the glass of iced scotch to his lips but he doesn’t drink. He closes his eyes.
The door bell rings. He crosses the parlour where all his distinctions are proudly telling his numerous achievements. Sam has always come first and the world has always rewarded him in various domains. The bell rings a second time, but he is already opening the door. A beautiful black lady is standing in front of him with a kind of smile which opens up flowers at night. She is a perfect stranger with a familiar face. The very truth is that, Sam has never seen her before. But Sam seems to know her. And she seems to know him.
– Marcia.
– Sam.
And they stare at each other like two tigers on the verge of the final assault. The passion in their eyes is enough to express their burning desire. Marcia’s lips are half closed, thus capturing Sam’s eyes. A lady living near passes and greats Sam with a slice of jealousy in the eyes, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t even hear her. She doesn’t insist and goes her way desperately. They’re still at the doorstep getting closer. There are distances between the two pairs of lips as the flight to one another looks a whole trip. A tumultuous and breathtaking travel which keeps all the passengers waiting for something special. Something unique in a genre just like the h-hour of a party. And the lips touch, and the lips merge, and the lips melt making both bodies float like a flake of snow on a silent starry summer night. The French songs keep playing from a distance and both Sam and Marcia are now dancing like flowers in the parlour. They kiss passionately and hold each other as if their lives would end the next coming second.
– Marcia.
– Sam.
– You are so beautiful. I…
– No. Please don’t say it. You would hurt me.
– Marcia.
– Oh Sam. I…
– Please. Don’t. Please. Not now.
They whisper their names and they kiss at the same time. The blue skies are gradually upgrading to deeper blue, getting the chanting birds going home.
But to Sam and Marcia, that means less than nothing. Their kisses have taken them where time and tide can wait for them and for eternities.
Last Delivery
The doorbell rings again and they don’t hear. It rings for the second time.
– Marcia.
– Sam.
The lady goes to the kitchen to get something to drink whilst Sam goes to the door. He has his glass of iced scotch in his hand. The whisky and the ice cube have become one. He puts it on the table and opens the door. It is the girl who works for the usual delivery company. She has another package for him. «You smile like an angel…» he told her the first time she came to deliver a parcel. And that smile has never changed.
– Good afternoon Mr Sam.
– Good afternoon Marcia.
Sam saw her name the first time she came; that was when he signed the delivery voucher.
– What do we have today?
– We will discover later Sir.
– You can call me Sam.
– Yes Sir… Sorry. Sam.
– Can I ask you a favour?
– I don’t know… Sam… I have to rush now…
– Marcia. I had a chat with Clandy last night over the phone.
Marcia turns her back and rushes out.
– Marcia! Sam tries to hold her back, but she escapes and leaves.
Clandy is Marcia’s best friend and her direct boss at the delivery company. Marcia tells her any little thing she has in mind. Clandy used to be the one to do the deliveries. She loves Sam but never succeeded making him love her in return. Tired of waiting for Sam to take the first step, she asked for her friend to take that area for deliveries. Sam and Marcia fell in love at first sight. Clandy revealed him that Marcia was in love too.
It is around 9pm when the bell rings. Usually a very harassing neighbour known as Lolikat comes at that time, with a funny reason just to spend some time with the very polite man. He doesn’t answer. The bell rings several times again. He finally decides to go open and speak his mind. Sam opens the door with authority. But it is not the boring Lolikat. It’s an unexpected pleasant surprise.
– Marcia…
– Sam…
This time it is not a dream. It is not an afternoon wandering. Marcia is standing there at the door. The French songs are playing, the glass of scotch is on the table, and they are both naturally and passionately kissing and whispering tender promises.
Short Story by Author Ray NDEBI.
The Author of Last Delivery
My name is Théodore René Ndebi, born in Cameroon. I graduated in Banking Management. But what really makes me proud and happy is WRITING !!!!! I started writing around 1990. I write the most I can.
I mostly write for children’s future. As a child, I had always dreamt of a world where poor children and orphans could be happy as well. I have many unpublished collections in French: Chaque Jour Un Poème, Rêve D’un Soir, La Missive Du Petit Prince, Suis-Je Assez Bien Pour Toi… I’m also author of unpublished novels in French (Cierge Noir, Plus Violent Que L’amour, Les Fruits De La Tempête…). My first published novel; THE LAST GHOST/Son Of Struggle got published in 2013 by AuthorhouseUK; it appears in the LOS Angeles Times Festival Of Books Catalogue 2014 Page 8. Available online @ Amazon, Kindle, AuthorhouseUK, Barnes & Noble, Indie. I wrote numerous award winning texts. I am a Book Reviewer and Translator. I am a member of OneAfricanChild since 2013 and Co-Founder of Le Salon Du Livre Yaounde-Cameroon. You can check my works on: authorrayndebi.wordpress.com.Ray Ndebi on Facebook, @RTNdebi on Twitter, Facebook Page My Soul & Mon Ame.
Click here for your new site
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 2, 2015 | POEMS
ANANSE
Ananse, remember,
The pitchers on the table,
The stenciled flower vases at the terrace,
And the embroidered kaftans!
I knew you when you were black.
Remember,
The death of your father,
Beneath the cracks of the slavers whip,
Wither their whims and that of your king!
Your colour is black, Ananse,
I knew you when your name was not Nigga!
Ananse
Remember home, Ananse.
The farms are waiting,
And your maidens too,
You are the King of your country,
Not a waiter at McDonalds.
Habeeb Kolade Professor X
About the Author of Ananse
Habeeb Kolade also known as Professor X is a creative writer and entrepreneur. He currently works at Ventra Media Group, a british marketing agency. He is the Creative director of Market Ibadan Business Festival, CEO of StrictlyUI and Hermosa Marketing. He works with startups to build their market presence. His facebook ID is Habeeb Professorr X Kolade and you can follow him on twitter at @Habeeb_X.
Click here for your new site
by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 1, 2015 | POEMS
CENTENARY BLUES
Nigeria,
My feet bear the portrait of Odyssey
Through your passages of seasons;
I am the custodian of the memories
Nigeria at 100
I have spread the arms of this poem
Like street traders’ wares,
Let history journey beyond Lugard’s court
In this caravan of verses.
Inkhorn suffers no amnesia;
This Odysseus’ staff-like pen,
Bears the cargo of words,
Knitting your puzzling tales
Of a hundred years into an elegy
That mocks centennial fetes
When Lamentations relieve
The national anthem,
I put on my prophetic garb;
Like Jeremiah, I see into other realms
I envisage heaven’s embassy
Where your rulers
Suffer multiple visa rejection
I am in tune with
Your theatre of absurdity
Where politrickers act out
Corruption‘s endless scripts
Fatherland,
Niger and Benue are the tributaries,
Today,
I join the confluence of testaments;
Your regions are havens,
I fear not,
I fear north!
About the Author
‘Gbenga Adeoba is a lover of words. His poems have appeared in Sankofa LitMag, Bukrepublik and elsewhere.
Click here for your new site
Recent Comments