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When we invited writers for this Issue, submissions of any theme or genre were welcomed, but especially so for works that explore the concept of journeys through the lenses of travels and tours―what it means to travel, to seek out new places. To write a story or a poem or an essay, writes Garth Greenwell, is to make a claim about what we find beautiful, about what moves us, to reveal a vision of the world, which the writers in this Issue have done with their work.
(Downloads - 156)
I’m pleased to say that it felt like home journeying to the birth of this book. Of course home is where the “art” is. This chapbook contains 20 poems scribed from the very core of my heart.
“Dancing With The Tides” sends a message or talks about the need to being in equilibrium with the happenings in the world and not to be too attached to one specifically.
(Downloads - 79)
Abebi
Cries of a baby
Tears of Iya Abebi
Evil some people call life
Isn’t it darkness that brought her to life?
At birth she takes a sweet full
Colostrum it is called
Nigeria, I call Abebi
Iya, I call her forefathers
Abebi did not grow like others
When a father drinks the milk,
of the child
Doesn’t the child’s belly get bigger?
Abebi did not take in
Enough milk while growing,
even though, filled with milk and honey
Abebi is now weaned on garri
It is difficult to understand why humanity is so divided despite boasting the same characteristics. Writing on the subject of "races", one is confronted with the challenge of methodology—whether to approach it from a religious perspective or scientific. The former...
The cfwriterz platform is honoured to present awardees for the month of January. As a way to recognize literary prowess, we have a monthly award section that applauds creativity, style, elegance and diversity. We have awards in the Fiction, Nonfiction and Poetry...
Bound by horrid sorrowful chains, My heartbeat is riddled with pains, I try to seek comfort in memories, They wander instead in nomadic melodies, And as such time, my soul wants bliss, All I hear within and without is, Whispers, such quietness, Hush puffs of words,...
They called me "Striker." He was called "Mature." The rule of play was; should the ball go over the fence, whoever it touched last, would go after it. This was the way football had been played in the lodge before I came in, everybody kept to it. Mature, was a gang...
Life is a mall of chances Set with ranges of choices A survival for all a sundry To carve a future that starry All exist with the crave for love and money For an abode flowing with milk and honey A world of uncertainties we live in Nothing is certain we bleed...
When I was seven years old, I asked my mother why the jar of palm oil on her kitchen shelf was never full. She said, "Pray for God's blessings child". So I prayed and prayed to God for Him to open the floodgates of His kingdom so my mother's jar of palm oil would be...
On a usual day, when you get to the village of Umuchu, there is a maze with a nexus connecting the dirt roads and here, it is easy to lose your way. The path in proximity to where there is a cluster of market women of all grades— prating, haggling, buying and selling—...
There was a time in history when blacks were exhibited in zoos like wild animals. Man! That was a dark part of our history. Even though things are not as extreme as they once were, you'd be the most ignorant being in existence if you are made to believe that the era...
Ifeoma was in high spirits. She was incapable of hiding her excitement. One look at her you would think her a teenager going on her first ever date. But then, you wouldn't blame her. Today was going to be a first for her as well. After all the procastinations and...
I woke up with a start; I had a bad feeling, something had gone terribly wrong. I could hear the chirping of crickets and the hammering of rain as it hit the ground where I lay. I was in a bush, I tried to stand but my strength failed me. I finally managed to get up,...
