C H A O S Tell me please... If those miscreants buzzing around The ears. Has peace come to an end? Are they the only dishes to serve people their freshly breakfast? When will they sing a song of no-more and Wave a hand of no return to this infidelity? Tell those gila-monsters, those wicked lions That bore horrible teeth in their tragic that Their lives will perish away like an atom In the whirlwind of desert when breeze in the Atmosphere hits the jackpot of peace. Tell me... Who would we bear on shoulders again? Is it the giant whales flapping in pools of Our wealth or the broken pieces of peace Bloodly lying in every nook & cranny of the street? I say this is not the faults of violence: But a burning fire fueled by those With great power in their hands and Soaked people's minds in bowls of Deceptions and cups of woeful wonders. With love and peace, no way for violence.
Poetry from J.J. Campbell
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- remember to laugh laugh sometimes all you can do is laugh plans change something comes up lines of communication get neglected along the way today is one of those days where i need to remember to laugh especially when the nurses tell my mother she's an hour early for her procedure somewhere between the paperwork and a phone call the time change was lost laugh, remember to laugh there will always be plenty of time for revenge later ---------------------------------------------------------- in any traditional sense of the word never fall in love with a woman that wants to stick a dildo in your ass she is incapable of loving you in any traditional sense of the word never fall in love with a woman who thinks she is a dominatrix but is unwilling to let the world in on the secret never fall in love with a woman who puts money over everything friendship, quiet moments alone, even god never fall in love with a woman who still seeks the privilege of being an only child well into her thirties never fall in love with a woman more than two states away from you the distance will be too much for some to be able to handle in a moment of crisis ------------------------------------------------------ still like the taste i think my imagination is still in its early twenties everyone is still naked and ready the drugs still have a good kick and i still like the taste sadly, the body and mind haven't kept up the pace --------------------------------------------------------- violent in my dreams i often wonder about my death it has always been violent in my dreams something tragic or brutal in the daylight i'd love to die in my sleep simply fade to black my luck, it will be upon insertion in some unlucky woman the poetic way would be mid-sentence, right as the devil starts to... -------------------------------------------------------------- a really short drive to crazy i have always known it is a really short drive to crazy like maybe down the block or around a fucking corner it has been that way since i was a child they always told me i was gifted i read too much and knew that was a kind way of saying someone could be really fucking crazy i preferred savant but that was my ego always speaking up at the wrong fucking time i was the type that never had homework and could be seen smoking cigarettes with the homeless on the weekends while writing poems with a bottle of cheap wine about even cheaper women i look around this room and see the cigarettes are gone because of a lack of funds the wine is now a glass of scotch and the women are still cheap imaginary has some benefits --------------------------------------------------
Poetry from Musa Ibrahim
BLIND MOTHER I'm one of the children of that mother With biggest and milky breasts in town Who lives to feed the adjoining cherubs But too blind to notice the malnutrition Which's been drawn in crystal on her kids; I've been down in the mouth all day long; I told my mother and did she tell me; Put in the ground thy ears o' son And water them with stream of thy eyes! SAINT Beloved On my journey To thy world I embark Beloved If I reach There I'll dwell Till sun dies Beloved I am saint; I am sent To clean your sin NIGERIA Behold, Here, Nigeria is my home; Where my parents, family and friends Are born and raised by different hands Do we have other place to call home? Halt, o' brethren Don't let others in our hearts Plant the seed of hatred; Lado, Ejike, Olu we're but family Let's alone stand to face our face; Hang on, The land, where we sang while farming Is now with our hands turned it abattoir; Where we slaughter our own brothers Who live to provide for us the foods Listen, Why o' brethren and when again Shall we regain our senses? Tell our brothers to put down their guns So peace would be freed and go everywhere WEARY WANDERER Home my abandoned heart, O' Dija Let love be its eternal servitude In your sacred kingdom Clasp me in your arms, O' Dija For my limbs grew cold Strap my aching body to your back Hold onto my hands, O' Dija I'm an eclipsed moon In your starry sky I reshine I'm a weary wanderer, O' Dija Take me to your pool Let's swim and have ourselves anew
Poetry from Christina Chin and Uchechukwu Onyedikam
10 birth after birth — Christina Chin veiled in the curse eve the queen of Eden a dark symbolic thirst — Uchechukwu Onyedikam 9 her tornadic aura... impossible to resist tumbling into nothing — Uchechukwu Onyedikam three boys and two dogs — Christina Chin 8 beneath devil's moon a paradise for outcasts to hear birds whisper — Uchechukwu Onyedikam in a quiet room midnight séance — Christina Chin 7 tunnel vision hope will arise to dawn — sapphire blue sky — Uchechukwu Onyedikam following an implosion — Christina Chin 6 cultural dance spin to the rhythm of the djembe — Uchechukwu Onyedikam the traditional ritual begins — Christina Chin 5 appeasing the incensed goddess — Christina Chin she bends towards the divine the arc of Ọ̀ṣun rite of passage — Uchechukwu Onyedikam 4 perceiving landslides and floods — Christina Chin the pigeons have flown away soaring in the rising sun nature's freeway — Uchechukwu Onyedikam 3 a winner on the rostrum… — Christina Chin light of her eyes swirling around his macho body with thrust in her heart — Uchechukwu Onyedikam 2 a record shortest day as earth spins faster — Christina Chin laying trust on the universe i bid farewell to the passing trials — Uchechukwu Onyedikam 1 where's she but a dream? the beauty as well a fabled city — Uchechukwu Onyedikam emerges and falls in the river tigris — Christina Chin
Poetry from Akinmade Zeal
FATHER AND SON by Akinnmade Abayomi Zeal HE traipses in with a souring countenance and glinting eyes Having survived jeers and taunts of the wealth drunk mates He nurses the bruises of his bullied legs 'Life has gone askew', he bawled at himself. 'The world has wrenched away from its roost and doused. While I was more child than now, the world finds peace with me We used to smoke our candies and lollipops We were fraternal with different twain. We bathe in dust side by side with love And hatred finds its place beneath the soles of our boots .' He comes away from his eavesdropping To school the grudged hapless son : 'Peace! Be still! Steel yourself from grim I plea I have found a remedy to your woes. At Better Days College! You will no longer bandy with your betters! There you will be gorged with love and clemency.' Numbed and stupefied he looks. ' Why Better Days?' I have learnt to love here!' 'I had known that you might know no peace there I had known that you flock there with your betters, People of higher race and grace People of luck with less love for your people People whose colour of their eyes makes them betters People whose saves are bloated! I only took a risk! I knew you will find no love but lost. I knew your meager twain will wane you.' 'But why Daddy?' Why should all this be in being?' 'The world has tilted scrupulously I tell you You cannot know even full peace at Better Days College. Not anywhere in the world. Peace cannot romance with men as beast as they are! Unlikely my Boy! Unsusceptible! Less the day these classes are crushed and made obsolete, Less these colours of our skins are mere flesh When men eschew their source and swim into one another, Less that our worths make us not any better than our peers.' I affirm : 'Peace for men will be hatred!'
Poetry from Preacher Allgood
grind the Saginaw and feather the six it’s a trip to the urologist in your ‘69 Chevy Blazer a wreck that needs a lot of money thrown at it money you don’t have the light turns green you jiggle the three-on-the-tree into first ease out on the clutch and pray it will catch there was a time when this heap was new there was a time when her paint glistened there was a time you were proud to drive her you grind that ten spline Saginaw into second feather the worn out inline six until it smokes and squeals and smokes some more at seventy they’re stripping your dignity away sticking fingers and probes up your ass asking if you know what year it is asking you if you get enough to eat You fiddle the shifter into third And check the speedometer even though it broke years ago another half a mile to go on this two-lane and then you merge onto the big road where the heavy traffic moves fast because everybody thinks they can catch up to some unassailable self-worth
Poetry from Christina Chin and Matthew Defibaugh
lying on the beach towels sunburnt nudes in a vintage Playboy Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh cresting waves she tells him how rough she likes it doing a cartwheel before the surf M. R. Defibaugh / Christina Chin he fans her with the wine menu after a swim and a cold shower still feeling hot M. R. Defibaugh / Christina Chin pretty bobbies in an updo hairstyle removing pins the night falls down to her waist Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh picotee edge white amaryllis on her lacy lingerie untying the ribbons with his teeth Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh