the spark that turned you into the wildfire of a human.
your first kiss stolen from you
in the darkness of your mother’s kitchen.
a loss.
a funeral with only your 14-year-old self
& a mute god in attendance.
you wore nothing.
your first kiss slid down your throat,
hot & ready to consume.
insides turning to ash. unfamiliar desires
travelling through your senses & finding home
in the space between your thighs.
your first kiss was not your first kiss
but your second.
this kiss was a sin & this man forgot what a
child was.
fanning out flames with his head buried
in between your chest.
you remember his smell & how it corrupted
everything.
tainted nights. coloured thoughts.
look at you, child. the antithesis of purity.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Olabimpe is a lover of white bread who almost always has their earphones in. They have works published in Ngiga Review, Sub-Saharan Magazine, Anti-Heroin Chic, Visual Verse and others. You can find them on Instagram @borednigeriangirl and on Twitter @lilbrowneyedfae.
I learned to seek my deep interest so I won’t go astray
During time of go
dug a well of hope for me to cope
got troubled in distress, wildlife of care elopes me
It could be depraved if it wasn’t on a verge moment
The military men of Israeli couldn’t do better here
Yes, I stick to risk, in loving myself
LOVING MYSELF
by Daniel Ajayi | POEMS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Daniel Ajayi is a graduate from Republic of Benin and delirious about writing. He has core interest in writing poems making him a writer and poet. He currently resides in Nigeria where he spends his free time in writing, reading, counselling and researching His poems have been published on BraveartsAfrica,The Parousia Magazine, Indianperiodical, to mention but a few.
It was neither on earth, neither was it in heaven nor on the ocean bed,
It was in a place that hid vast mysteries.
In a place where the stars were everly radiating their pleasing beauty,
Where the moon was always at its brightest,
And breathe taking when it was at it’s crescent.
Shiny but cool the sun rose mysteriously every morning,
Beautiful and colourful the flowers were when the sun shone upon them,
Their rivers were pure and colorless you could see different fishes at the bottom,
Somewhat more pleasing than imagined.
The children played around the hay during the summer,
And hid in their little play house while it was snowing during winter,
Their harvest blossomed year upon year!
It indeed a little good city to be!
The gods were with them I would have nearly said,
Until,
The night the stars turned red,
The crescent moon was swallowed by the dark night clouds,
All the beautiful flowers began to wilt,
The cool sun became just too hot,
The rivers evaporated just as fast as the fishes swam for their dear short lives !
Loving mothers consoled their ‘now sad children’,
Even the white snow became just too hot.
“Are the gods still with us? ” Prometheus the bravest man shouted, straining his vocal cords.
In anger and a descent sense of courage,
He sets off to the treacherous and unmerciful mountain,
MOUNT. TRATIS,
Known as the living place of the gods.
There Prometheus was in the midst of gods;
Zeus, god of heaven earth and justice,
Poseidon, god of sea and earthquake,
Ares, god of war, hatred and violence
Demeter, the goddess of hearth and all growing things
And,
Aphrodite, godess of love and beauty.
Poseidon and Ares were fighting more aggressive than a ferocious beast would, over the love of Apphrodite,
Which indeed left Pasifa in pandemonium and disaster,
Demeter in her pure and humble spirit pleaded that Zeus took control ’cause the peace if the gods was the peace of all cities.
In a moment of heroic action Zeus rose in eminent anger and declared peace at once.
And suddenly, there was silence,
And it was all over.
Zeus took control and Prometheus returned back to Pasifa to give the great news,
But time passed all too soon and everything was in shambles.
Soon later Pasifa grew,
But it never returned to its old glory.
In the ancient the time of the gods,
There existed a city,
The beautiful little city of Pasifa,
That befell calamity by the gods Love or Lust?
Image source: www.playbuzz.com
About The Author
Obilaja Fisayo is a 200L computer engineering student at the Lagos state University. He has flair for poems, short stories and gives speeches and also indebted to in science.
“Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover,
everyone becomes a poet” – Plato
Void song!
Karima,
Mine, is a supplication of wordless rhymes
Nurtured by loneliness and the warmth
Of straying thoughts
Can I wait any further?
On this interminable road of endless love
The emissaries of bashful beams
Have refused to bring the message of peace
And my helpless heart continues to host
The banquet for ranging wars.
Now, I sit at the slopping edge of a bated breath
Flipping through the pages of a hacked off memory
Searching for a song
Searching for the calming chorus of your words.
My path is deserted tonight,
No traces of a wayfarer lurking behind the trees
No footsteps to drum of yesterdays
Yesterdays’ haunting memories of cuddlesome games.
This night is silent
Singing the songs of loneliness
And I follow suit
Singing for the dawn.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Oredola Ibrahim, the winner of Inspiring Brilliance Foundation National Poetry Award 2012, believes in poetry as a tool for self discovery and ultimately, a potential tool for national transformation. His poetry delves into popular themes like politics, love and inspiration. Oredola Ibrahim is the convener of WhatsApp Poetry Contest, a periodic competition organized on the platform of “The Penclan Initiative” (www.penclan.com). He is a campus journalist, a student-entrepreneur and a web designer. He’s currently a student of the University of Ibadan. He tweets @platolaw and can be reached via asiaquad@gmail.com.
If my soul rests upon this lustful feminine
Don’t mourn dear family
I have found a place so comfortable
It renders earth incomparable
I am lost in lust
soaked in dust, bathed with rust
Ah! This place is like eternity!
Pure, sacred, I think one of the angel’s commodity
Allow me, maybe once, twice or more
Pure me, not with diluted massage but raw
I would not do it again!
Arabinrin, ero mi ni ko koko ordain
Be careful of the zone for the lost – lust!
I am lost in words
Long for lust
Ouch! This place is like eternity
Pure, sacred, I think one of the angels commodity
Don’t you know how I feel?
Wanting, horny…rubbish, don’t you know you can kill?
I’ve learnt of Carolina
But your body tortured me like Hausa bilala
This feminine must be poikilothermic
Wet! Now! As if she contacted a chronic epidermic
She seems to be heterotrophic
My body she lives as if she’s saprophytic
Inspired by a poet
(c) Seyi Omotoso, 2015.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I was born on 19th Feb. 1996. I hail from Ikire the land of Dodo, Osun state. I attended Holy Cross Catholic Primary School, Ikire. Having graduated, I was admitted to Saint Augustine’s Commercial Grammar School where I was elected as the Social prefect boy of my set. I was then one of the competitors group, a group said to be the community of the intellectuals. Having succeeded in the secondary school, I opted to study Medicine in the great citadel of knowledge; The Lagos State University, Ojo which was successful but to a different course, Physics.
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