The cut in “GIRLHOOD”

I’ve written a lot about my childhood to you, collating in writing the spirits I had bore at the time when air was fresh to my nose. I’ve dropped attributes I had possessed those times to fit into skirts and blouses, gowns and fancy earrings. I’ve not just grown, I’ve twisted and turned to fit…

South-easterner

  I would have sworn that I never ever thought of handkerchiefs, how white some may appear in their packs, starched and folded for passerby. I chose to wear my favourite flat footwear that very hot afternoon, I forgot how my face looked just like every other day, walking care free with my mini side…

The way I touch my body

…and most books I had picked from that gallery described women as sexual beings as nothing else but idols. I insulted my thoughts for buying into the idea that it could be, I withdrew from reading such naive praises. Let me teach you the ways I arouse myself. The ways I’m locked in, soaking my…

Rivalry- a poem of taste

Picture gotten from-¬†Pinterest Have you consoled your embroidery? your interwoven sleeves carved from healing smites? Mother of souls. Mother of colds with cursed sores. You remind me of moon tales, skipping bad omens for good fortune.   Oh buttercup! Save these little fingers for one itch. Bring men that think like goldsmiths, black and beaten,…

Frightening the challenges that come with tomorrow

For Millennials-   Picture gotten from-Camilleabrown We will all grow to a point where we learn not to lie against ourselves, where we will all outgrow our humble beginnings. We will reach a point of satiety in our lives one way or the other, where we fear less about what we used to hesitate to…

Outgrowing the wild

I was about cooking Jollof rice when I looked out the kitchen window to see the spectrum of bloom the weather left the sky. It reminded me of evenings in Aba (my home town in Nigeria). It reminded me of the way the weather back home tells us how much it would pour rain down….

Self-betrayal for my art

05:09am Picture painted by¬†Abasido I’ve held grudges for mid-nights that refused to give me the right words, for ecstatic memories I needed to feel at times like this. Here’s how people who applaud the cracks and loopholes in my craft talk to me. Did you hear them? Did you see what I wrote about them?…

Nwoke’m

Do you ever listen to your own repetitive connections at 03:00 am too? Picture gotten from-Pininterest I’m starting to think imaginations are art. I’m starting to love the entangling emotions built from it. How strangely I could be fluid and solid like an umelted candle at the same time. I’m starting to feel all the…

Happy women’s Day

Picture gotten from-Figurative art To be here, to join hands and to murmur what it’s like to feel this way. To feel like a woman that I didn’t choose to be but of the nature that chose me. Here is to all the days and all the nights I stay with me, with womanhood thinking…

Reaching

I may write for you. I may write for parts of you that were whole when you held on to the slips. Picture gotten from-Academichustler1975 I could ask when last you saw green, the colour, the scent, the pure green. When? I may choose to go on and rant about the look in your eyes…

What ‘they’ won’t tell you about failure.

Picture gotten from-Bounceback First of all, everyone preaches these days about success without addressing the odds of what’s likely to happen if it isn’t attained. Most times, people that fail to talk about failure have been winning their whole life and other times the rest are those that hide their failures or just don’t talk…