By the roadside, the aroma from a pot of stew overwhelms the pungent smell of the gutter whose basement offers the picture of two butchers struggling with a ballooned goat—skin the latest victim of searing water. Outside, there is an impatient queue of different bowls sizzling oil in a big pan squeezes the face of helpless bush- meat. A woman, with her jiggling underarms, sends … Continue reading At The CanteenÂ
Image Credit: Eric Pat Noudes/unsplash Untold stories lurk around a black boy whom before daybreak, mastered the language of ghosts, whose palm now weighs the weight of forgotten prayers but remains unbroken. How he traced his scars, charted their paths, sketched out answers where the world left him dismayed. Untold stories lurk around a black boy who wear flaws like purple linens—his kind of riches. A boy who seeks not his reflection in mirrors but pieces of wineglass picturing … Continue reading Unbroken
Image credit: Evie.S/unsplash Your aura teaches a boy how to blossom into a flower, how to wear a new form—one as soft as the body of water. This boy, once solid, has become a tender delicacy, yearning for your taste. Once fierce, now still. Once astray, now on track. Say, I detach myself from this lion’s fur to become a dove, to lay in the cradle arms of love, and call you … Continue reading The Aura Of You
-Tukur Ridwan Our bodies are scales on which the weight of our skulls finds balance. As the sun penetrates my follicles, my head crystals the reflection Of invisible entities. Each head is overflown with the weight Of burdens camouflaged in thoughts, and in musings. You do not need to break open this cranium To know how water seeps into the coconut. This mystery makes the head the giver and taker of all. Bearing joy and gloom, I’m OlĂłdĂąmarè’s mystery tarot Whose silence grows— you could … Continue reading OrĂ’s Appraisal
in that year, we spread our dreams where hopeful glances eased our noisome youth. fleeting emotions crumpled our facade in seconds. we stared down on death as it howled from the ground. death pulled, yet I held on. death tried, yet I pressed on. heavy silent whispers— you have to let him go. the show stealer with a coy smile was crafting. the show must go on, I insisted. dim lights and despair, long before the blinding … Continue reading in that year
ArtisansQuill| Celebrating Wordcraft 