Poetry from Uchechukwu Onyedikam

SOBRIETY

position to the east with bowed knees
touch the earth with your forehead
repeatedly, count your beads, mumble
prayers to the wailing walls, search
through the holy text & make pleas

go to the gate called "beautiful" 
and you'd find there a woman
read her her sentence to the
wide congregation from afar
but are there afoot for the
water and wine

for signs and wonders
for 5 loaves & 2 fishes
for the miracle that raised
the lame fisherman from
his court of penury
for the woman with
the issue of blood
and for the woman
stoned to death, that
her scream was stuck
in the passage of her throat

her body is sanctified, sacred and
worthy of the faith evident in her heart
flooded with pure charity of
un-forgetfulness with 
supplication in deeds
always with
gratitude


****


Give Thyself Grace

midnight hallowing from the pages 
of my poems like a cat meowing for
cuddling from the arms of its Lover

I don't let my eyes fall asleep for the
time to stay up awake and witness
the birthing of a brand new Order

that day is now — for I believe and
hear the howl of the wind tender her
soft whisper to my ears, of windy tales

blowing my mind with surprises of the
moment as envisioned in my heart
in my mind, and soul — I pay attention

unrelentingly I pay heed not to the 
unheard-of but to the negligence of
my destroyed identity haunting each
footprint I demonstrate my words upon

I am not that tall black, silver fox man in
those jeans, polo t-shirt, drenched in
Versace Eros at the other table for two
waiting upon the arrival of his date

I am not what you perceived. Nor the 
abstract imaginings you've painted 
on this empty canvas...

I am simply a holy-preying fugitive
on the run with a stolen identity —
running away from the captors 
hiding behind another man's
dogma

torching my way unto his form
of eternity with his 
myth

give thyself grace
oh thou bunch of
derelict bag of
honour

****


Uchechukwu Onyedikam
Lagos, Nigeria

Short story from Santiago Burdon

Bad Example 

My daughter had just turned fifteen the day before and we were celebrating by having lunch and spending the day after together. She was no longer my little girl. Somehow she went and grew up behind my back without me noticing. 
  
We talked about school and what she had planned for the future. She wanted to drop out of high school, get her G.E.D. and take classes at the community college. 

"High school is more about Social status and hanging with a clique than it is about learning and receiving a good education. You know like; Goth, Preppie, Hippie, Jocks, Stoners you get it."
"Ya I get it."
"I don't fit in with any of them. Now they think I'm stuck up."
" People can be pretty self-righteous, especially teenagers."

I could sense there was something she wanted to tell me but couldn't seem to find the right moment or maybe the nerve. I decided to ask if there was something on her mind she needed to share. I thought it might make it easier for her.
" McKenzie what's up? You appear nervous. You know there's nothing you can't discuss with me."

I've expressed to all of my children to speak openly with me if there was something that they needed to share. Anything, there wouldn't be any kind of repercussions no matter what the problem.   
"This is really difficult for me to tell you. I'm not sure how you're going to react. I don't want it to ruin our day together with you being all mad and pissed off."

What she needed to tell me must be something of extreme importance. I started second guessing my policy about sharing everything with me. Sometimes you're better off not knowing what's going on.
" Okay, let's play, I'll guess and you answer. You know like twenty questions. Sound good?"
"I could give you a hundred guesses and you'd never get it."

"Give me a few guesses. Okay here goes. Are you pregnant?"
" What? I'm not stupid. No, I'm not pregnant. I can't believe you asked me that. You can really upset me sometimes, Santi."
"Well I wanted to get the serious stuff out of the way. Okay, you're Gay." 
 
" You are such a Santihole. No I'm not gay."
"You got a job as a stripper?"
" A stripper? What in the hell is wrong with you? No! No! No! Okay enough, this isn't fun at all. I'm in love! Okay? I've fallen in love with an incredible guy and he loves me. There it is. Now let's hear what you've got to say."

She'd fallen in love at the age of fifteen. I could tell it took a lot of courage to declare her feelings to me. I wasn't sure where to continue from here. There I was unprepared to offer fatherly advice. I hadn't seen an episode of My Three Sons, Leave It To Beaver or Andy Griffith that dealt with this subject to use
as a reference. I was on my own.

" Do I know this fortunate fellow?"
" I'm sure you don't know him. I'll introduce you to him soon." 
" Okay, anytime is fine for me. Just don't wait until the day before your wedding."
"He needs to work up the courage. You may not know it but you have a reputation. It's not a flattering reputation either."

" What do you mean by an unflattering reputation? I'm a wonderful person. How can anyone think otherwise? That's bullshit."
" See, now you're getting all defensive and worked up. I'm just telling you how people feel about you. You didn't know but there were some parents that wouldn't let their children associate with me."
" Who? Why the hell not? I'll have a talk with them, judgemental bastards."

"Take it easy. It was a long time ago."
" Okay so you're in love. How can you know what love is at fifteen?"
"Why, how old do you have to be to fall in love? Is it sixteen like getting a driver's license? Or eighteen, when you graduate from high school? Maybe twenty-one ? How old do you have to be to fall in love? Tell me please."

Again I didn't have an answer. What in the hell did I know about love? My track record for dealing in such a consequential and precarious emotion was less than adequate. I've failed numerous times but still always answered the bell for the next round.
"Listen to me, please don't fall in love or marry anyone like me."
I was a bit taken back by her quick response. She didn't have to take time to think about her answer.

"You don't need to ever worry about that." She commented.
" You certainly are quick with your answer."
" I don't mean to be a bitch. You're an amazing and wonderful father.
You've been an incredible teacher and great friend.
But I would never want a boyfriend or husband like you.
You were the best bad example 
I could've ever had." 

She continued.
"There were moments you hollered when you were mad. Although no matter how angry you were you never hit any of us. I want you to know that I will always be grateful for your love, encouragement and pride in my accomplishments. But your secret life, the hush hush underground stuff. The thing we were told never to talk about. Two in the morning phone calls. Speaking Spanish, trips to Mexico and who knows where else. The different passports that I saw in the desk drawer. It's not normal."

"It's my work." I answered.
"What kind of work is it that you do? Do you know in school when we were asked to tell what your father does, on Career Day, I didn't have an answer. I had to make something up."
"So what did you…
"A Barber and one year a Florist. I still don't actually know what you do for work. Although I have a pretty good idea."

" It is better you don't know. It keeps you safe not being involved.
" Why is that necessary?"
"McKenzie, I'm not going to explain to you what I do."
" I know you can't say what you're involved in. It just seems like you were gone more than home. I'm sure your work isn't legal and we'll leave it at that."

" I always made time for my children. Always there for you." "That's true,you never missed my birthday, a school activity or Holiday including Christmas.
You were always there."

"Listen mija, I'm not going to make excuses for what I do, but I want you to understand what I do, I do to support the family. And you've had a pretty good life. You were well taken care of, never wanting for anything."
" I understand you say that to make it okay. I'm not asking for you to justify your work to me."
"Hey, we seem to have gotten off course. Let's get back to you being in love."

"So you're fine with me being in love? You aren't going to try to talk me out of it? Or give me a list of reasons why it isn't good for me at this time."
" Would it do any good at all? Listen mija, I've always trusted your judgment more than I do your brothers. Remember this, love can be a miraculous and magical sentiment but it's a double edged sword that can cause the most devastating debilitating feeling as well. Are you aware of that side of love?" 

" Yes, Shauna told me basically the same thing. So I've seen it expressed in movies and read about in stories. I have also been a witness watching my mother experience the anguish it can cause."
"Okay let's change it up. I'd rather not have those feelings dragged over memory's razor blades. So what do you feel like eating? This discussion has worked up a powerful appetite. How about Sushi?"
"Sushi is great. So this is it then? You're not going to make me reconsider my feelings.
"Controlling your life by applying my beliefs is not in my Father Job Description Handbook."

" You're a wonderful father. I may have overlooked some good qualities when I said you were a bad example."
"That may be true." I stated with a laugh.
" So after Sushi I thought we'd hit the Art Museum then check out the second hand clothes shops and thrift stores. What do you think?"

"Sounds wonderful. I love you Santi. I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?"
" No, not too much. I'll get over it." I said laughing.
"But now that I think about it, being a bad example can be a good thing. Love you back. You'll always be my little girl."

*McKenzie was killed in a car accident a year later.*

Poetry from Fayzullayeva Sevara

This day is in you ... 💫

The future never comes back
Today is your future
The past is the past
Today is your chance

Today don't say tomorrow
Tomorrow's bread has arrived today.
Who has the past left behind?
Faith is in you today

It's not far, it's close
How long is your time?
Put your will into it
The future is yours today



Fayzullayeva Sevara ( Uzbekistan)

Poetry from Raafia Shaheen

BE YOUR MATE

I know right now!
your thoughts are fully opaque.
You want to give your life a retake.
Because this world is acting like a snake.
Your mind is under a terrible quake.
And soul is suffering from an untold ache.

Ohh Pretty!
It's time to take a decision for your own sake.
Firstly, take a short social media break.
Rise early and bake a cake.
Go to a park or lake.
Just listen the chirping birds and eat that cake.
Write a poem and don't be fake.
Give yourself some space and accept your mistakes.
Be you and don't follow others like copy paste.

Sit on a fresh grass and put aside your hate.
Pray to GOD and count blessings of your fate.
It's hard but have patience and just wait.

You are doing well, so don't underestimate.
Take a deep breath and enjoy your present state.
Instead of becoming your own slave, be your own good mate. Believe me!
You will feel better after this mini escape.

Poetry from Ubali Ibrahim Hashimu

RAVISHING DOVE


Shall I tell you of a damsel flower
Whose beauty embellishes the universe
Like a star in the night out of its gown
A flower that blooms a colorful roses
In a garden of a mendacious love.

Shall I tell you of a ravishing dove
Whose name is written in the blue sky
That name a gentle wind whispers to my ears
Gently, gently like music that murders fears.

Shall I tell you of a shiny star
Whose eyes reflect nothing but a love
Like a mirror that welcomes a light
That is the face I always need to sight.

Shall I tell you of a robust sun
Whose teeth are as white as snow
That even its whiteness brights
And round all the galaxies.

Poetry from Akinmade Abayomi Zeal

I've not Lived

Until I soak myself under the sun
Almost ferried away by the waves of the ocean
Flipped by the flaps of the flapping trees
Tasting the salts of the sea
And living like the bliss of the heavens, 
Drenched in the rain, pregnant with dreams
And delivered of all my fantasies. 

I have not lived, until I'm ready for death
Choking from too many pleasures - satisfied
Yawning, belching, dizzy, weary from hedonism
Hence clamouring to see my Home
Begging, dying to meet my Maker
And see the house He'd prepared yonder
For me to retire
And be steeled from terror
And malice 
And treason
And poison 
Where I'd wrestle with death
And be defeated by death
And take my turn to win through defeat:
My battles over death - finally and permanently.
And then be immune to terror
And be forever condemned to bliss
In my own flat 
That my Maker prepared yonder.

I have not lived!
Until I see the sky under the East.
I have not lived
To see the rising of the sun
Neither have I seen the sky in the West
Nor lived to relish the setting of its sun
And watch the moon from the West glistening,
And adore my Maker for His mightiness. 

I have not lived!
For I have not breathed from the North
Nor sleep in the East
Nor take my detour to Aomori
Where even the angels might freeze. 

I have not lived!
And I want to live
To breathe the air of the North
And soak myself in the oven
As I'm freezing from the frenzy of the Bahamas 
And watch my seeds run around
While I watch
Admiring their tiny little legs
And their hearts brimming of innocence. 

I have not lived!
So neither malice nor rancour
Nor hatred should get the best of me.
For I want away with terror
With malice 
With poison 
With envy
With lust
With lost
With everything omen. 
I want away with all
Until I truly live. 

ABAYOMI ZEAL