I don’t beg her to believe Because I am begging God She does not rebuke me. I knew her when I was still a newbie, thanks to her avid reading and indefatigable commenting on virtually everything posted here on NS. Sometimes her reading and commenting has left me in doubt, does she really read all … Continue reading Deadly (School Boy) Crush on Bubbllinna
She is a corundum And a conundrum, Aggressive yet mild in manner This Bubbllinna With face smudged with henna. She ranks as a cabochon Precious gemstone, Cut and polished in language Reads and comments without change; She’s a fan and is fun Her harangues may make you run. She’s a poet and writer … Continue reading Bubbllinna: A Gem on NS
Para la familia de Jamiu. From the depths of woman’s desolation, echoes a scream. Tears like rain, fall from puffy red-rimmed eyes through cheek-stream To drench the ground where you lie, locked in dust with a dead dream. Weight borne in a she-tomb filled with life beats, your gift; silence. Frail visitor to this man-palace, … Continue reading A Cavatina for Mother
I hear her wary steps in the dark; a strike from her makes me hot, then she drops me and makes her way to a corner of the shanty that is home to her and the baby, while I watch with fiery eyes. In the corner lies a pink plastic bath for children and she … Continue reading Voyeur: In the Light.
It started with Tosyn commenting on one of my posts, “Nice one Bruv/Sis. Please keep them coming”. Bubbllinna replied, “Elove is a dude…@tosyn keep off!…hehehe…” Then the Head Wordsmith, Kaycee, asked, “Elove is a dude??? Mtcheeew. All these romantic dudes seff?” I replied without an answer, “Yep??? It happens that ‘we poets’ know paper/pen love, … Continue reading Elove Poetry: A Case of Identity Crisis on NS?
Virgin; it was given on a platter pulsing with hope, nothing else did matter save the reply one sought to hear. Maybe held promise – yes was best, and no never flirted with the thoughts, but it came wrapped in a blatancy that hurt and stripped the heart of its true colour. Picked from whence … Continue reading Virgin
Wale sat in Mama Sikira’s buka as he awaited his order- bitter leaf soup and two wraps of amala, a bottle of cold stout stood open on his table. He had come straight to Mama Sikira’s when he started feeling dizzy, and remembered that he hadn’t eaten before he smoked ‘igbo’ with his guys. He … Continue reading Coincidental?
Dearest Mikki, I still remember the day you came. The doorbell rang – two short rings and a longer one, I rushed down the stairs with a ready hug for daddy. I flung myself at him and he lifted me up and planted a kiss on my lips before putting me down. It was then … Continue reading To a Brother, with Love