There are no roses here, But there are vegetables. Here: There are rich men with Egos bigger than their cars. There are poor men with Stubbornness hotter than their brutally patched Slippers. But one thing is Sure, no one escapes this Market without the odorous finger of pá»Ìnmá»Ì-water slipping into their nostrils. At the back of a rickety cab, there’s a basket of fresh and … Continue reading ĂjĂ©
At the backyardâ There is a convocation of potties with broken and happy Faces. On the lineâ There is a soaked wrapper that throws the fragrance of urine in the air. In the latrine roomâ The chickensâ cages breed mites with biceps. Thereâs a makeshift kitchen at every door- step. We know what our neighbors will eat for dinner. The passage of the roomsâ an … Continue reading Face-Me-I-Face-You
I understand love. I know it like I know my mother’s face. I know how love is exposed when trying to hide behind dark curtains. I could close my eyes to spot out love, even in darkness. Love doesn’t make itself so difficult to be seen. I know how love absorbs intimacy like cloths Do water. You wouldn’t wring it out, unless you were willing to face the dryness of a lifetime. Before love, I know how the longing & the absence feel like a thirst. You want to carry the jug & gulp to thirst no more, even though a little sip intoxicates. And then, after love finally comes upon you, your heart, closed like a tomb, opens to be filled. Opeyemi Oluwayomi is a Nigerian writer, an English & Literary student of University of Ibadan. His works have appeared or are forthcoming on Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Art Lounge Journal, Brittle Paper, Shallow Tales Review, Ekstasis Magazine, Eboquil Magazine, … Continue reading Upon the Conversation of Love.
I am as brittle as a piece of broom, & so are you, & so are they. This is why we could be broken when not gathered. This is why our city is never clean when it is swept. I know I am a way to the sky. When hiked out of me, you are the next door, & they are the other doors. I’m saying the journey to the sky begins from you, to me, & to them. But I wouldn’t know if anyone has gotten to the sky all by themselves. Let them come, let’s see the measure of breath laced on his life. Let’s see the lives that have grown out of his life. Let’s see the windows opened from his heart to people’s heart, even when their bodies are away from one another, & their blood isn’t the same. Let’s see how poor he could be, that all he has is the riches of the sky, when others are tremendously gathering one another, needing one another. Not in a way a dog needs a bone, but in the way a human needs breath. Opeyemi Oluwayomi is a Nigerian writer, an English & Literary student of University of Ibadan. His works have appeared or are forthcoming on Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Art Lounge Journal, Brittle Paper, Shallow Tales Review, Ekstasis Magazine, Eboquil Magazine, SpringNG, … Continue reading The Concept of Us
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 goatâskin 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
ArtisansQuill| Celebrating Wordcraft 