Alone in the Dark – Oladimeji Olatunji.
Alone in the Dark Alone in the dark, I’m scared of the imaginary beings spawned from make-beliefs and deepcontemplations. That eerie beast of the night lies in wait, ready to haunt me to death in mysleep.Like many others, I have awakened to the cruel realities of my past deeds, relentlesslystalking me. The skeletons, big and small. who walked to my doorsteps unheralded, have letthemselves in. I cannot undo them; I have remanded them to a wooden prison by my bedside.Yet, it won’t hold them for long.The emissaries of my mother’s probe will come knocking but fail in their attempted jailbreak,as her unstable emotions cloud her pursuit. She drifts into oblivion, lost in a world where Iwas everything but herself.At sunrise, they broke free, forcing me to mouth-pouring confessions, my skeletons revealedto a cynical world, exposing my failed grand scheme. My lover’s cat is out of the bag,running for safety, and…
Victim of Metamorphosis – Olaseni Kehinde.
Victim of Metamorphosis From my grandmother’s lips spills the story of my genesis, A home of beauty buried in time’s embraceLike a mother hen, protective with chuckling wings,Our home was peaceful when evil slumbered And fresh air blew with innocence, Cupidity flew like a whisper in the windHonour stood tall in the mountainsThose nights before love faded into memories How can I write an elegy for my dear land? Bristling in despair and gasping for breathA shatterer of hope in a ruthless whim,As a mighty flood rages my home with vices Today, I live in a terrain of predators, Hawks perch, eavesdropping on prey’s dreamsAnd some mornings, they swoop from the sky,To devour great dreams like a tasty meal Riffles serenade the air with dreadful melody, Striking out futures in cold bloodElders covet riches, honesty withers,On a sobbing land, wailing for aid. Contributor’s Bio Olaseni Kehinde Precious is a prolific poet,…
Exorcism – Olusoji Obebe.
Exorcism A morning breaks into my bodyAnd the bird in it escapes into space I’m merely a tote of years,Counting and recounting memories Like yams in the barn whichBeetles have beaten into rot. I’m something made out of letters,And I have in my pocket a packet of the past. In it are matchsticks so thatWhen night creeps in I can lightBut it’s not the darkness I burn It’s meI burn I tell youYou enter Like a shot in the headI’m unknotted Lord,this legion of memoriesIs gnawing at me. Who’d cast it out?Who’d fill the hole? Contributor’s Bio Olusoji Obebe is an emerging Nigerian poet, essayist and fiction writer. He writes from Ondo State, Nigeria. His essays have made the longlist of the African Human Right Essay Competition 2021, the Sixth Chinua Achebe Poetry/Essay Anthology and the Libretto African Anthology Prize 2022. His works are featured/forthcoming in Fiery Scribe Review, Nnoko Stories,…