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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
One pirate walked towards me. He stopped a little distance from where I stood. Figuring he was their leader, I sized him up quickly. He had a sword at his side, a dagger in his hand. His clothes looked like a mad man's, the black hat on his head covered the top of the...
It had been a dream. Thank God. I looked around me, it was still dark and the uncompleted building where I slept creaked noisily as the rain beat on it from every side. I was used to the darkness. Hell, I even loved it. But something was not right tonight. I tried not...
The Uyo breeze sashays into my nostrils, minty, and earthy. Beyonce Knowles Rise up blares from my black ear piece. Her soprano is like piano keys. Soft, crying, and moaning. I am typing my keyboard like a master pianist. Typing the keys with the music tunes. Softly....
there are memories that brings us home. I hold you in my heart like veins holding blood. along the sands of Agadez it is the thought of you That runs through my heart keeps it alive and fuels every beat. the wind of Agadez brings your wet scent to me. a smile etches...
It's been part of the cfwriterz goals to bring learning and networking opportunities to writers in the cfwriterz group. We recently got connected to Monica Kunzekweguta; the CEO of Authors without boundaries. She has inspired a lot of people with her work and what...
They say it is raining, but my mother would say the sky is crying. Once, when I was very little, my mother told me about the origin of rains. She said in the beginning Chukwu created the rivers, the seas, the earth, and the trees. And when He saw that the earth needed...
Walking without company is always the most boring thing ever. Climbing with company is the most riskiest venture ever, because every man is his own support. You don’t have to put your lifeline on someone’s. I am flighty and dreamy. I see one thing and it fascinates...
I woke up in the early hours of the day one morning in December wondering who had become my benefactor overnight. Just last night, I struggled to find some sleep after countless baths and an inevitable stripping, I finally made it to the roof tops when all else...
-Happy Place- The first and the last one A welcome flash of thought Wherever I may go I'll make it back to you On days I don't return I'll always find your kind Or at least dream of you Caressing my spent cells Your lifeless static form As loyal as can be Is all I...
Love is a Beautiful experience, especially when the girl is still carrying the original copy of her brain. The one that let's her know that you don't meet a guy today and start taking his name for prayer session. Adura is one girl that my heart rings for every time I...
