by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 7, 2015 | POEMS
Kalrils -The god of the blacks
The air around your shrine
Has developed talons,
Piercing through our nostrils
Risen from the smoldering skulls and gong
Your shrine feeds on silence
The incantations are on exile
These spirits sovereign,
Yet deaf their ears linger to distress calls
Re-incarnation born this melancholy
Like fire the rage in their eyes
The disdain on him,
The rubble whimper
Dawn rivers of frost thoughts for god of the blacks
Desecration and disdain of your SKULLS and OFO
The fallen faces out of men
The lies the sands refute
Prompt this voyage to an eclipse
Kalrils
Unripe fruits,
the taste protruding through my words
Massacre of spirits
From the shrine where deities sought strength
Have you not heard of mother goddess?
Her words are painted in defeat
We await your return Kalrils
These candles I lit fear
I see the despair in their eyes
The whirl whose teeth snarl
Near the burning candles
On the fence,the feet of these candles cling
Forgive… let this shrine be rebuilt
So rubble can breath and save our cold hearts
P.S.: Kalrils…a deified person (representing a state-Nigeria)
Ofo…sacred staff of a traditionalist(Igbo land)
About the Author
Awa Chigozie is a Nigerian. A student and resident of Abia State in Nigeria. He is a prolific writer whose keen interest is in poetry and fictional works. He has poems which have been published in anthologies and other media. He describes his works as a mirror to man’s act. Presently working towards releasing his first poetry collection.
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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.
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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.
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by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 1, 2015 | POEMS
March’s Match for Jonathan the Buharist
At the end of the scheming month
Seal your quick speaking mouth
Call me no Seer or Prophet
For I am but an ensnared Poet
Though they sign an accord
I do not see peace as a chord
Tying us to the feat of the future
But a broken feet to be sutured
Call me the minstrel of Doom
I can only laugh at your gloom
For the bride shall be without a groom
Like the scattered sons of a broom
It would not be free and fair
For this to be free of fear
For man shall match man
And month shall match March
Jonathan the Buharist
Expectations shall be dashed
Just as Hopes shall be ashed
Like the remnant of a cremated corpse
The wind shall blow ashes from its cups
You hate the sound of Jonathan
You say he is a nonchalant charlatan
And you love the wind of Change
You say it blows away your rage
Harvest your fears
And prepare your tears
For your heart shall be pierced
As change-victory would be scarce
What nonsense have I said?
Oh, what sense have I made?
Saying the Charlatan may laugh last?
Or Change would grow weary?
No, Not at all!
Just like John the Baptist
We have our Jonathan the Buharist
POSTSCRIPT: A word for the profound, as the foolish things of these present times confounds the wise.
Tijani Oluwamayowa.
About the Author of March’s Match for Jonathan the Buharist
Tijani is a poet, witty speaker, and award-winning Journalist. He was awarded most outstanding Pressman at University of Ibadan for 2013 and 2014.
As a public speaker, Tijani became arguably the finest speaker on any Nigerian campus, following his win at the Nigerian Championship of Public Speaking (Abuja 2013).
follow @Oluwamayowa_TJ
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by KREATIVE DIADEM | Mar 1, 2015 | POEMS
WHAT’S LEFT?
What’s left but exhausted minds
That parade in shirts and gowns
Shrugging shoulders that tongues have laid on
Like gods that have lost their omniscience
To futile voyages
Over the tombs of the living
They drop wreathes
Sending our spirits on exile
What’s left?
But dumb strangers with tongues pierced
By fingers on throne’s apparel
These songs are of arsenal voices
Hibernating the sages
With ornamental cuffs and artillery
To rest their wizened grey hairs on mute
What’s Left
What’s left but mere carcasses
Painting colours in space
Red, the choking air
In grievance, the crump of air we pursue
Like chippings of gravel
We chew the intoxicated air
And still groan for more
The soil has lost its virginity
To the heels of scavenging feet
Fire, the rage in her eyes
What’s left of me?
But the melancholy of tomorrow
Awa Chigozie
About the Author of What’s Left
Awa Chigozie is a Nigerian. A student and resident of Abia State in Nigeria. He is a prolific writer whose keen interest is in poetry and fictional works. He has poems which have been published in anthologies and other media. He describes his works as a mirror to man’s act. Presently working towards releasing his first poetry collection.
Click here for your new site
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