Ash mist spreads like warm blanket across the sky; The grey jagged mountain fades; silence crept to rest.
I could write you as lines of poetry
Racing through generations of untimely feats won
at the feet of self-discovery;
a journey not taken on unsure islands
yet, taken to explore your many side like stanzas of a poem
As the laid out canvases of an artists’ finest works
hung on the walls of your forming days
growing up like abstracts interjecting time,
and spreading your wings; jutting into the sky
gazing at the clouds, and ignoring the grey chunks;
Each definite arrangement; deliberate contours
calling for your attention.
You see them as smoke screens; like fog
willing to make you born again into the hands of the racing clock
Your wings are spread wide
You taking leaping soaring steps like Mario; super
Like a young eagle learning to fly
Learning at your master’s feet; yourself
who’s teaching you to fly with wisdom in your belly
across valleys, and above mountains
Still, you are flying, but with grace’s locket around your neck
This isn’t the first time she kissed your cheek
She promised you more at every flight
Your feathers are flapping through
wadding through each memorable skyline,
like the paddles of a canoe;
arms spread wide, waving at the smile that the ocean
shares with the clear blue sky.
Each dip you take reminds one of baptism; newness
Now your time has come, with your hands clasped,
like a prayer of atonement to the heavens…
Even though the sky be grey,
yes, be it for a season; a period of showers
it will be like angels assembling crying for joy, and
welcoming your announced feat
that time you planted your feet, and set to fly
like the bird that you are, soaring;
cutting through the mirrored blue sky
and the heavens applauding as your kingdom come.
Photo Credit: http://www.dreamstime.com
This Friday, i decided to feature a friend who i think his written piece is worth reading and paid full attention to. He is a Civil Engineer, and his assertiveness is what makes this work stand out for me. Read on…
Many times I’ve tried to figure out this continent or at least lay a handle on the reality of this continent. Each time, I come out blank and I wonder what’s really driving us so insane.
“Africa is just like one stubborn child in whom so many people see potentials, but who constantly set herself on self destruct mode….”
I have a feeling that this continent is still the architect of its own woes…. Take a look at what happened during slavery. We keep blaming the white man.
*But have you ever stopped to ask yourself who sold the slaves to the white man?
*Have you wondered who helped them hunt for these slaves?
*Have you asked who set up markets where our own brothers and sisters were sold?
*Our fathers and warriors sold us for mirrors, beads and snuff.
*Our fathers were dumb and stupid and let the visitors play to their greed.
Well, for a moment, Africa survived individual slavery, and from within us countries were born. But did we learn anyTin?…. Oohh NO!! I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.
A few voices of reason rose thereafter and cried out to us all. Those voices of heroes in our minds. Our Nelson Mandela, Nnamdi Azikiwe, Fela Kuti, and our Living legend Wole Soyinka etc. That to mention but a few. You know them, as I am not much of a historian. These men led us and drove us into a great continent. We united and struggled together. We fought the apartheid and xenophobia all together to this point.
Then, like that same stubborn child we went into self-destruct mode again. Civil wars broke. We killed our own flesh and blood for land and money. The smart ones used the weak ones to fight for their selfish desires. Our leaders got power drunk.
Then came the realization that Africa is rich with minerals and oil and food and wild life. But just as if our forefathers and warriors were reincarnated into new men. They started selling not just slaves as people this time. They sold our entire continent to their own greed. For just a few dollars our livelihood was sold.
Want to know how? The biggest companies in the different industries in Africa are owned by the white man. Now, my question is…
*Who sold these to them?
*Who brought them back?
“Its the rat at home that told the bush rat about the master’s fish.”
This is the latest form of slavery. The slavery of nations. Today we are no longer dragged off in chains to the white man’s land. Today we are made to work in our own fields. Today we are slaving in our own land. Today we are even slaves to our own brothers and sisters…
Oh, now I know u want to start blaming the white man. Don’t even go there. That’s always our problem. We are always looking for who to blame so that we have excuse to pick up guns and knives. (These are just businessmen doing business. So don’t blame them). Here is the icebreaker;
*We are the architect of our own woes.
*We called them
This is where we are right now. We are at that point in our animal lives where the food seems so little and we kill each other to have what’s left. All because nobody wants to think of how to make the next harvest plentiful. Everybody wants to have more than others. Almost every African nation now is at war.
I am afraid that point has come again. This time we aren’t going to fight with guns, knives and bombs. Africa needs just a few people. A few heroes and heroins. Men and women who can think and save us from ourselves. Men and women who are Willing to make sacrifices to save us.
If u are reading this and you do not have it in your mind to be a ‘hero’ for Africa, then I will tell you this “You are part of our problem”
If you cannot reject a few dollars to make good choices for the benefit of our unborn children “You are part of our problem”
If you still do not wake up every morning and stay up late at night, thinking of ways to make this nation better “You are part of our problem”
If you cannot remove yourself from the “Get rich quick syndrome”. I assure you that “You are part of our problem”
If you still do not see a fellow African from Kenya, Ghana, Ivory Coast, Ethiopia, Guinea, Chad, Nigeria, etc, as your own brother and sister “You are part of our problem”
If even within a Nation like Nigeria, u still discriminate between tribes like Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba “You are part of our problem”
If the a young man or woman born in South Africa (white or black) still have issues with race and tribe “You are part of our problem”
If you take bribes, oppress and cover up robbery and corruption “You are part of our problem”.
The time has come for just a few men and women to come together and make a decision for this nation. Time has come for those foreigners doing business in our nations to genuinely decide to be part of us and help us grow.
This is the point were our movie industries should wake up and change the kind of things they show our children. For we want to hide part of our history from our children till they are old enough to see what type of monster we turned this continent into. We need to show them through our works and writings that heroes are born in them. We need to show them that all they need is happiness and that the wealth in the world can be theirs for decades.
Time has come for us to build a nation where our children can choose not to go to Harvard and still make great people. Time has come when our children should graduate from their choice Universities have decent jobs, without being tagged “lazy” or “unemployed”.
Time has come when we can build our own retirement plans and know that we do not have to worry in case we die and leave our children in the hands of mother Africa.
Time has come to stop pretending its none of our business
*Will you start finking. Will u do what Abraham Lincoln did for the United states.
*Will you risk staying behind bars for many years just for your people’s freedom like Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela ‘Madiba’ did for South Africa?
*Will you be the one to sing the kind of ‘conscious’ and ‘national awareness’ songs Fela Anikolapo Kuti sang?
*Will you be the next great African writer like Chinua Achebe, the author of Things Fall Apart?
*Will you surrender your guns and knives and start looking for ways to save lives instead?
*Will you be the next man that will betray, and sell this entire continent completely to get just mirrors and snuff…?
I think, i have said enough to awaken my brothers and sisters. Let’s look inwards to bring forth the best for our beloved continent- Africa. She is my Africa. She is your Africa…
I call her ‘the goddess of the sun’, because the sun rises and sets on the planes of its lush and vast land of plenty. Africa is greatly blessed beyond man’s imagination. We are within her as the countless stars. Let’s not dim her light.
(c)Engr. Udochukwu Onuegbu Eric
Photo Credit: http://www.globalresearch.ca
Once upon a time A big brother was born He grew so fast with time To share his love for the dime He called a friend or two To start a reality show They set it off for sure Now it is time to blow The news went around town Many did come to drown To join in this train of scenes Shown on our TV screens Twenty did join at last To feed us some drama It didn’t take too long For pairing to go on Love for sure did take root In hearts of the housemates It looked all cozy and fine At least no one got the boot First week and some did pass Tasks and scores written on slates Winners sure did trespass On toes now there’s strife A sea, see, it’s boisterous Welling up to sink some ships Big brother, this is disastrous Please do bring this ship to shore she’s sailed and won some cheers through fighting some selfish wars fifteen are home winning crowns and five more still to go Big brother is too grown More fights and taunts to come I'm sure the time's so right For one to win this prize... (c)Neofloetry
For several months, The Port Harcourt Literary Society (PHLS) has dished out quality literary ingredients in making it’s Open Mic Evenings one to be sought after since its’ emergence.
The Society has featured Guest Poets and Guest appearances since its maiden edition in November of 2017. The likes of one of Nigeria’s top most spokenword poet- Efe Paul Azino, and one Nigeria’s notable Actors- Samuel Achibi Dede, were featured in the March edition. Others that have graced the PHLS stage as Guest Poets are the ever-so sultry poetess- Iquo Diana-Abasi, Nengi Ilagha (Pope pen), and several other music groups and act. PHLS Short Stories excerpts made its debut entry last month.
Poets and short story writers are expected to bring their best works for an enjoyable literary evening.
April’s edition promises to be exciting as one of Niger Delta’s finest Poet will be the Guest Poet.
Guest Poet Profile:
Kudo Eresia-Eke (Guest Poet for April)
Kudo Eresia-Eke is a thinker and prolific writer with numerous publications spanning poetry, short stories, inspirational and academic essays. An accomplished communicator and seasoned administrator with rich experience in the media, academia, government and the oil and gas industry he holds a PhD in Political Theory from the University of Port Harcourt; and a Bachelor’s degree in Mass Communication from the University of Lagos.
Has worked with Nigerian Television Authority as presenter and newscaster, as well as the Daily Times, the Guardian, Rivers State Television, Radio Nigeria, Radio Rivers, and Sunray Group of Newspapers. He was also a columnist for Vanguard.
He was also Rivers State Commissioner for Information and Culture, State Director, National Orientation Agency, as well as lecturer in various universities in Nigeria and South Africa.
In 1998, he was appointed the pioneer Community Relations and Development Manager for Nigeria LNG Limited, and served as Public Affairs Manager, Government Relations Manager, and until recently General Manager, External Relations NLNG, among so many other accomplishments.
But it is perhaps for the brilliance of his poetry, for which the University of Port Harcourt appointed him Resident Poet, that the Port Harcourt Literary Society most honors him for.
The PHLS Open Mic happens Every last Friday of every month, of which this month’s date is APRIL 27th
The venue remains the same: Port Harcourt Literary Society Library, G.U. Ake (Eliozu Rd. Bypass) beside Air Assault Golf Course, before Pleasure Park.
The Open Mic time starts at exactly 4pm.
See you there!
Follow and Like PHLS social media handles
Facebook: Phls open mic
“Hurting people hurt people.” Is a very catchy phrase that no one should consciously ignore. It is in fact supposed to be a personal wake up anthem for your everyday living. Once you have been hurt deep enough, you begin to hurt others in a certain unpleasant way. I have never been a super fan of the phrase ‘emotional wreck’, although there are times when our emotions tend to take the better part of our budding lives and turn it into a wilting flower (it takes the mercy of God to keep us back on track so we don’t die off). I have seen many being commandeered into being labeled such an individual, and in the long run, people begin to avoid such a person like a plague. Once they know that he/she is about to make a grand entry about a matter, everyone takes cover. Yes, everyone takes cover! Except for a few persons who are bold enough to confront, and or speak in a soft tone just for peace to reign.
Let me digress a bit. I remember sometime late last year when the BBNaija ad was up for this Season’s show, and a friend of mine said to me “you know you can go for this audition? If you eventually make it into the house, that would be awesome.” I smiled a bit, then got scared because, I am one person who avoids the larger public eye for so many reasons. I shrunk in my mind at the thought of being in a house filled with different people. The thought of how I’d cope if I found myself in an unpleasant situation. I never liked un-called for fights and arguments (I easily would want to make peace so that I can breathe normally for energy sustenance). I looked at my friend and smiled, then started boasting a little about what creativity I would push forward. But in my heart there’s no way for me to proceed further. The Port Harcourt auditions happened, and I was at home eating pounded yam and freshly made egusi soup. What is my own? I can’t come and kill myself jor.
When the Big Brother Naija Season 3 began, I wasn’t glued to my TV set just to know who the Housemates were; their names and what they even looked like. I wasn’t worried either. I was just minding my poetry business until one fine evening, I and my eighteen-year-old sister started the BBNaija discussion. Prior to that day, I had snooped in on my Instagram account to check out what was buzzing. I had seen a few faces, but didn’t give it another look. So, that evening the remote was ours for the evening since ‘General-Dad’ (sole owner of the TV remote) wasn’t home. I began to get myself acquainted with the few housemates my eyes captured; first, it was a sort of pairing I noticed. I noticed that some of the ladies were clinging on to the dudes like they were in a relationship show. I didn’t worry much, but then, i thought about the ‘double wahala’ tagline. Housemates were cuddling and making out, and all what-not. Well, I didn’t bother. I quickly decided to watch the game at least 3-4 times in a week (excluding party nights, and including eviction nights). It was fun, and the tempers were beginning to rise.
Weeks passed, and I had already picked out my favorite pair (BamBam and Teddy A fan). I loved the aura around them, even though were miles away. I loved the two. Miracle and Nina were the next two, but I still couldn’t understand their stand, Tobi and Cee-c were always in people’s faces with all the emotional rollercoaster, Lolu and Anto were just vibing with too much wittiness and what-not, Rico was standing alone, but loved the kitchen like no other, Ahneeka and Angel cruised on the wings of cupid but failed to admit they had been shot, Bitto and Princess…. Uhmm *scratches head*, Leo and Alex had an unsure quest going on for them, but…, then Dee-One and Vandora almost killed us with cunning dry jokes, and as for Khloe and K-Brule, the back and forth drunken prattles kept bouncing off like ping-pong balls, while Ifu ennada bathed us with her creative sides. Hmmmmm. Such showmanship on display.
Anyway, these housemates had it all together, I guess. They all took turns in diving into the Sea of mixed emotions. Some got me really pissed, while others warmed me up and made me excited… can you guess? I was getting fed up with this one Character who saw herself as higher and better than the other housemates. Her squinting eyes and famous eyelashes and hair made me cringe most times. I yelled a lot of times, while other times I just felt some sort of pity for her. She is human; very fickle, but the ‘toxicity’ was too much for many like me to bear. It baffled me how she gained such massive support. This only told me one thing (many human beings are drawn to ‘drama’, and they confuse it for realness). My question is “what then is realness?” does it mean that the other housemates were not being real? As far as I was concerned, every one of them was being ‘real’, but all jumped onboard with game strategies… Duh! Emotions began trickling from the inside, thus causing a verbal war on the outside. The Social media space was buzzing with abusive and verbal huffs and puffs. Team this against Team that. This whole enchilada began an emotional outrage! This was all madness. Yes, MADNESS! Everyone took a deep dive into that sea. See? (pun intended).
The BBNaija Season 3 ended for me when BamBam and Teddy A were yanked out simultaneously. I was pained, but I felt the kind of peace they felt when they escaped all the hate from within the house. Their bathroom incidence made it worse from most judgmental viewers. I am not saying that what ensued between them was right, but hey, they are human beings, and things like this are bound to happen, besides, the cameras brought it to the forefront, otherwise, not one viewer would have known. What about the ones not shown from other ‘sneaky’ housemates? Anyway, who am to analyze?
As it stands, the heat is turned up, and a caucus has been formed after fifteen successful evictions/disqualifications. Tolex (Tobi and Alex, Miracle and Nina, excluding King Cee-c who drowned in the sea of her tears today). Tobi and Alex are very much fond of each other, and I’m super sure Cee-c isn’t happy about it. Miracle and Nina had their fight before eviction night, but they seem to have grown deeply connected. Voting lines are still open, and this is the final week. Viewers/fans are voting like never before. It is a mad world out here; everyone rooting for their best housemates to win, because, 45 million Naira is at stake, but all I can say is “May the best man/woman win.”
At this point, we need our youths to focus their minds on the getting their PVCs, and prepare to vote in the upcoming 2019 elections.
(c) Edwina ‘Neofloetry’ Aleme
Photo credit: saatchi art
to you who becloud my mornings…
cloud that you are
racing lovingly to calm me
i feel your cmbrace like ice-cream topping
touching me, wrapping me sweetly
i remain firmly rooted like feet planted
and the tickles beneath reminds me of naïve days
when the soft heaves of loves breath
worship my responsiveness all at once
of hands clasped, in a plea for desire’s call
of woos and romantic nights and mushy talks
underneath peeping twinkling stars,
you are cloud; sometimes grey
and many times fluffy and white
i remember you tapping my thighs
your hands taking an adventurous journey
drinking from valleys and climbing mountains
searching my body like an artist’s brush
stroking shapes and forms; becoming
your 9D art
you who is better than Picasso’s art, you are cloud to me. i see no other
within you is your pure gleaning smile; sun
i might just call you “son of my soil;
earth, woman that I am
blossoming at your loin’s sprinkles
i expand like the hoeizon
taking steps into you, my Grand Canyon
let me fall, a dive won’t hurt
let me go in reverse cascade to your peak
cloud that you are
i see your eyes speak to me,
telling a thousand tales of Jove’s journey…
cloud that you are
touch me here, touch me there… Yes!
ferry me gently round this earth; mine and yours
raise me higher as your hands clasped mine to cloud nine
safely breathe upon me
as I have memory of your taste;
chocolatey, and melting into me
You are my cloud this morning.
Photo credit: http://www.beliefnet.com
My eyes have seen love sown
How it blossoms in unlikely quarters
How two, love struck, dance
to the beaming melodies of heartbeats
How their feet rhythmifies every step
Every smirk on their lips like a singer
whose unsung notes stay alert for many years
These two, like Siamese stay pressed on
Distance remains their connected cord; umbilical
like mother to child,
like months separating them
from cuddles and warmth
like the two yearning for togetherness
Love, I say, is more than just a word
It is pure serene laughter when light illuminated your form; presently
It is I and you drenched in wanton hugs and kisses
Unashamedly announcing friendship
like an applique on a well designed dress
I behold you many times in my wildest thoughts
Mind traveling journeys like a French tourist
asking precise mind full questions
stamping words of declaration; affirmations
too robust for me to fathom
Countless times “je t’aime aussi” soared
Emotions crept through my fingers,
stroking your beards, and
planting kisses on the soil of your lips
I have seen love take long journeys
Organic; connecting two natural lovers; intertwined
a dread locked away in my heart, and taking territories
unafraid to pole volt this journey with you
Though you gave me an unlikely name
I know that this love has conquered a territory
where its walls are Jericho high
through mountains and valleys of my heart
and these two locked in one as a whole.
WHAT GOOD IS A KISS…?
Today’s atmosphere felt really congested. It reminded me of the days of broken hearts flying everywhere like glass splinters. It also reminded me of when these pieces pierce an unsuspecting boo who will keep thinking that shot was from cupids’ bow, but end up being hurt all over again. This reminder is amply overloaded with ‘stories that touch’ from the past. Hmmmmm!
I started my morning on a rather low note. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I just couldn’t get my eyes off my ever-so-annoying wall clock. First, it was my phone’s alarm waking me up at exactly six-thirty-one a.m. These sleepy orbs of mine kept prowling my entire room until I couldn’t take it anymore. I sat up, and still a bit unsatisfied with my four hours of sleep from last night, i wanted to just go back to bed. But my clock just reminded me that it’s almost seven-thirty. I didn’t grumble, but I mumbled what I thought was a ‘Good morning’ prayer. While I sat on the edge of my bed, these words “what good is a kiss, especially if it’s not with the one you truly love…” from a a movie WAITING TO EXHALE soundtrack came flying into my mind. I paused for a while and allowed my mind to wander around this, and I quickly concluded that this could be an act of ‘kissing the enemy’. How disastrous can this be to any dating relationship? Hmmm
I pondered upon this, and It just hit me that it is very obvious that a lot of singles are in fact, actually kissing someone they have absolutely no business sharing such an intimate moment with. I couldn’t get my head around why that just happens. I have been in that kind of situation where I deliberately and naively put myself under that spotlight. It wasn’t a prim and proper kind of entanglement, you know. It only gave way for unwanted relationship thorns to start blooming. Trust me. It’s not a pleasant situation, except you are a master in the art of being a shady lover. Many ladies like me are still practicing this act, whether we agree or not. It might not sound nice if I tagged it ‘a form of desperation’, but at the same time, I also think it is just a way of getting out of the label of being ‘single and reserved’. I hope I don’t get a thousand female eyes shooting at me. Hehehehe.
As crazy as this might sound, some relationships are nowadays more or less like a ‘try-your-luck’ kind of situation. I have been in a place where I hear most ladies yammer on the fact that they no longer care if these dudes love them or not, or whether these ladies like these dudes or not. They just want to be in a relationship. They just want that fine glass of wine without checking the bottle for the amount intoxication effect it will live on them. They certainly do not care if that box of chocolate is for them or not. All they want is the whole container. Who am I to judge anyone? I have had my own fair share of the wahala in the past.
While all of this as a trend is ongoing from the female side, I think the male camp also have their own ‘shoot your shot’ kind of situation going for them too. As much as they wouldn’t want to admit it, this whole “I just want to get hooked” might just be like ‘a-little-boy-in-a-games-resort’ thing for them. It is not a crime to be picking and dropping toys until you find that one special toy, but where it is wrong is when it is applied in the relationship kinda thing. No one likes to be picked, used and dumped. Ok, I get it! You just want to ‘taste and see’. But why taste before you begin to choose to see if the Aunty is right one? I would rather the Aunty is befriended first before you decide on the ‘tasting’ part… *rolling eyes* Anyway, not all the Uncles in this camp are like that sha… I admit it. There are just a few good men to salvage the situation.
Meanwhile, in my own camp (my very own personal camp), I have decided that this is not my wahala. All I can do is try to wrap my head around this whole situation, and begin to live a stress-free life when it comes to these kinds of entanglements. Many singles out there have what works for them. They have decided to live like that, while others are still regretting why they decided to share a kiss with the one they do not truly love. What is my own? I am only a ‘partially single’ observer (don’t ask me what that means).
Let me just fix my gaze on what makes me happy. Adios!
(c) Edwina ‘Neofloetry’ Aleme
photo credit: wikihow.com
I see trophies in between your thighs
No, I can’t help but crave them in my bench thoughts
Your poise is a voice singing riches with no coins
And the traveler is home no more a wanderer eating stones
It’ll be real, everlasting bond
The moment I want to break with you
So don’t fret, i am no flirt
I don’t deal in lies and dirt
It’s not bad crave, but a trophy in between your thighs
You’ll be forever on my mind
All I hear from you dear
Seems everlasting and clear
I see you see trophies in between Africa and Jamaica
But my tentacles embrace signals from afar
I won’t fret cos I know you want to commune
With this sweet wine taste on the tip of your tongue
I know you want to cross my twin hills with your fingers as feet
I know I’ll be in your contact lens a perfect fit
But just let my exhales and inhales mark time
With yours and mine
Hoping that all will be fine
Cos this time, my smiles won’t take strolls down no aisle
And may that one sweet day change no clime