Poetry

Blog Tour: Tolu A. Akinyemi on writing “Dead Lions Don’t Roar” and “Dead Dogs Don’t Bark”

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Welcome to the blog tour for Tolu Akinyemi’s Dead Lions Don’t Roar and Dead Dogs Don’t Bark. I had a chat with the poet on his books and other interesting topics. Enjoy!

The titles of your two books are quite interesting and unique. What inspired them?

My book titles are metaphorical in nature and they are to inspire us to find our unique roar, bark, meow and growl. The titles are apt based on the poetic wisdom for the discerning series which I am currently writing about and it was inspired by the need to see people put their gifts and talents to positive use while there is still breath in them.

What was the writing process like? What part of writing the books will you always remember fondly?

The writing process was very much straight-forward as I knew the message I wanted to convey, and I tried my best not to change my approach. I think the best part of the writing journey I will always remember is seeing the books in print. That was an absolute joy.

It is usually said that, a writer’s work has bits of the writer’s personal experience in it. Is that the case with your books? And if so, how much of yourself is reflected in there?

I would say my second and third titles “Unravel your Hidden Gems and Dead Dogs Don’t bark reflect my personal experiences as the essay collection came about from my knowledge, intellect and experiences over the years and Dead Dogs Don’t Bark also reflect a bit of my experiences and some important people that have added value to my life over the years. There are occasions it will be difficult to detach the writer from the work especially for poetry collections. Continue reading →

RaPoem: Murder in the Vestry by Shomuyiwa Oladapo

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Source: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/thumb/msid-48164432,width-400,resizemode-4/48164432.jpg

Photo Credit: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/thumb/msid-48164432,width-400,resizemode-4/48164432.jpg

The upper room of the clergy

Men gathered together in the vestry

Diverse races in the attachment

United for the sake of a dying congregation.

 

Men with black thought, long ropes intertwined with a white mindset

They are just rainbows of colors that depict evil

If they cry you a river on the outside

You’ll feel much pity

But on the inside they are drops of the red sea.

 

Bullets exchange is the bureau they work with

From the auditorium to the Pastor’s corners

Winks of sorrow, finger signs while raising holy hands tend towards the shape of nine

Let’s reverse a case, then an illustration.

 

If Pilate was Jesus to be crucified,

The Jews won’t have yelled at the Messiah King

Torn vestments but you’ll see them walk together to hide their patches

The congregation had Jesus

But Pilate was the forsaken god.

 

Fed with lies now they sip syrup of hatred

Melody of loose rhythm, when the choir do songs with hook uncatchy

Staunch sinners

Heaven’s at sight but I see a more glorious view of hell

Believe me when I say they’ smooth players.

 

‘Cuz winking at a rev sister during service?

Y’all know they hold nun (none) like that

From the wink to sex on the sink

Her belly be bulging

For shame she abode with

Had a 9 in the vestry tucked in her garment

At the 9th hour…the sun was darkening…

A bullet went through the windows with a blood stain.

 

Murder…a trinity just died

Monk, nun and the unborn

They go seek solace in hell

Here is murder in the vestry

A place where nuns shoot monks for cock-sake.

***

Do you have a story, article, poem etc you’ve written & would love me to read and/or publish on my blog ( of course with credit to you)? Do you have second thoughts about your story and you aren’t sure if it is good enough? Is your long written creative work gathering dust somewhere and you would like a second opinion on it? Kindly send me a message ( haroldbensonthefirst@gmail.com ). I’ll love to read your work, critique your work and/or help you in any way possible. And of course, I’m not charging for it. Thank you.

Biting the Dust*

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giphy

@Ms_AffyIt eats up

Tears down

Takes the stars from your crown

Pushes you to the ground

It shuts the door to greatness

It leaves you tearing up behind closed doors

It entertains fear

It wines and dines with failure

It is not afraid to call depression by its name

It zaps faster than a gun

It holds you bound

You neither crawl, walk or run

It destroys

Crushes the bones

It scoops the ice-cream

Disposing the cone

If you don’t let it go

You would bite the dust

Sooner than you know

It is a disability

It’s called negativity.

 

***

Poem by Affiong Ene-Obong. Affiong Ene-Obong is a lawyer,  writer, poet and artist.  She holds a Law degree from Babcock University. She is a member of the Association of Nigerian Authors, Rivers State chapter; member of Sea View Poetry Club and member of Sisters’ Interact Network, an NGO to help women actualize themselves. Her first book,  ‘A Life Called Forever’ is a collection of inspirational poetry beautifully written to inspire, impact and transform lives. She is a polyglot.

You can contact Affiong Ene-Obong on Twitter as @Ms_Affy

***

Do you have a story, article, poem etc you’ve written & would love me to read and/or publish on my blog ( of course with credit to you)? Do you have second thoughts about your story and you aren’t sure if it is good enough? Is your long written creative work gathering dust somewhere and you would like a second opinion on it? Kindly send me a message ( haroldbensonthefirst@gmail.com ). I’ll love to read your work, critique your work and/or help you in any way possible. And of course, I’m not charging for it. Thank you.

I could have loved you

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thinking-black-man

I could have loved you
But the stars aligned
To place two imperfect strangers
In a perfect ship of relation

I could have wanted you
I rem’ber days when
Our bodies tangled
Desired each other
But I could have wanted you
If our bodies had a mind

I could have needed you
But just as the sun rises in the East
And sets in the West
So did my feelings

I could have kissed you
But I heard tales of your poisoned lips
Sweet as Velvet tamarind
With death’s lurking sting.

 

Photo credit: http://masetv.com/being-confused-allows-you-to-grow-maturity-through-uncertainty/

As wise as the ants

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By Kolawole Adepoju

Ants

As the horn sounds reverberate

The soldiers stand for fate

A bind to their nascent promise

Their oath of office

The survival of their race

As their heels hit the terrace

 

 

The undenying sound of unison echoes

Thereafter deafening silence

Marching, one foot at a time

Each foot forward a step in the right line

Every step a step to hardwork

The tumultuous water drops

The scorching sun blaze

The whirling wild winds

We have conquered

And as our muddy naked boots strike the ground

Every effort, every sweat worth the prize

Our journey miles

But a toil with a friend inspiring

 

 

We all constitute a multitude

But our strength in fortitude

For there is a time

A season for everything

Now is our time to toil

With all our strength and vigor

With all our might and candor

For with tears in our eyes

We secure our lives

Every tear worth a thousand laughs

A mighty bargain

For only those with clairvoyance

Who see beyond the now

For the storms are coming

With its ravaging force of nature

 

But in the midst of the storm

We would celebrate

With our hearts sunken with laughter

And our mandibles drunk with joy

With our bellies filled with butterflies

With our eyes brimming with life

And with our antenna’s full of pride

In knowing we had overcome