my father’s voice is a dark hole.
when I was six, I fell into it,
tasted his liquid darkness
and I became a light-
too bright for the prying
eyes of dawn.
In my sojourn, I have climbed
seven mountains of tears
and crossed ten rivers of pain;
but for the map on mother’s palm
I would have been long lost
in this forest of uncertainties.
So each night when my mother clasps
her palms to allow the meandering lines
rub against one another,
she is telling an angel
to carve out another footpath for me,
one that leads to many places.
mine is a brittle story,
and on days like this,
it breaks into pieces
and scatters around
like the lines in this poem-
some white, some black
but all coated with gratitude
1 week ago
The poem, "Sugar on wet Sand" by Omodero David, is experimental and daring. The poet is set to take the #poetrycommunity by storm and our fingers are crossed.
Read the #poem here:
#poem #poetry #writing
"Along Came Love" by Zubair Hassan Baba, is what we might refer to as brilliant historical fiction. You may smile or sigh but surely, you will fall deeply in love with Zubair's storytelling style at the end of it all.
Read story here: https://eboquills.com/2021/05/01/along-came-love-a-short-story-by-zubair-hassan-baba/
"...I am the voice of reason,
That dance not to the deceitful tone
Of political eloquence and propaganda
I am the voice above religious hypocrisy and sycophancy
Truth is my warrant and change is my cause..."
Who Hears Me? By Etim Bassey Onyam
Read here: https://eboquills.com/2021/04/24/one-poem-by-etim-bassey-onyam/