The Diner by Arinzechukwu @Nofstnme

    Senator Zahir sank comfortably in his favourite chair- a butter colour cushion that sat facing the wide-screen television that hung on the wall. He was a craggy but handsome looking man with a dandyish moustache. Sitting in that position Senator Zahir looked like he was fast asleep, but his eyes were wide open and looking through gold-rimmed glasses […]

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[Spoken Poetry] Stacey-Ann Chin’s If Only Out of Vanity

Originally posted on Cellar Door:
If only out of vanity I have wondered what kind of woman I will be when I am well past the summer of my raging youth Will I still be raising revolutionary flags and making impassioned speeches that stir up anger in the hearts of pseudo-liberals dressed in navy-blue conservative wear In those years when I am grateful I still have a good sturdy bladder that does not leak undigested prune juice onto diapers—no longer adorable will I be more grateful for that than for any forward movement in any current political cause and will it have been worth it then Will it have been worth the long hours of not sleeping that produced little more than reams of badly written verses that catapulted me into literary spasms but did not even whet the appetite of the three O’ clock crowd in the least respected of the New York poetry cafes Will I wish then that I had taken that job working at the bank or the one to watch that old lady drool all over her soft boiled eggs as she tells me how she was a raving beauty in the sixties how she could have had any man she wanted but she chose the one least likely to succeed and that’s why when the son of a bitch died she had to move into this place because it was government subsidized Will I…

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Pricks Dicks Pricks

Originally posted on Musings:
Just like that. His words were so smooth they wiped her tears away. Words of promise. Rivulet after rivulet fingers cleared the waterworks as the words soothed the heart. They had a promise made, pairs of lips and then away. Both under the influence, it was a night to be confused. She was the ‘you’ll send…

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The unforgiven

Originally posted on Sisyphean Minds :
On the edge of their matrimonial bed, the sad man sat confused, out of place, as if waiting for help, except he never brought himself into calling for it. He tried hard to read the note she left behind for him. He was trying to develop the courage to hear her reasons for doing what she did. He stopped looking at the note to wipe the tears in his eyes. It has been close to an hour since he came into the scene of the incident in their bedroom, alone, except for the remains of his wife lying cold on the bed. The neatly dressed bed suggests she went quietly, without much struggle. “There are different kinds of love they say. Happy love, sad love; family love, friendly love; love love….But what they didn’t say is all love hurts.” He read the note, drawing deep breaths and had one of his hands covering his mouth. He wept not only for his loss but for what he’d done; for the forgiveness he didn’t get and for not knowing how he’s going to live with himself. What he had done was more than a silly mistake. It was devastating how he never saw it coming. All the fatigues and headaches she claimed to have, whenever he asked why she seemed sad or “off”, were lies. He feared thinking her depressed. So he never used the word. The…

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Letter to “my girls”

Originally posted on Msorija:
Hello, how you doing?, ok, we need to talk, I used to wonder why whenever I was walking , people I dint know said hi, it all started in my last year of secondary school, school was over and I was going home and some random guy said hi, to be polite I replied, and he looked at me funny – and gave me that I wasn’t talking to you look. I was very confused, but this kept on happening. And that was the thing, they were looking at me and saying hi but usually not talking to me. It wasn’t until I made a concious effort to listen to that inner voice in me, and there it was, I could hear it, “they” always said hi, in a sweet sexy voice, no one could ignore that voice, and then waving their not very long “hands”, but the skill in which they waved the “hands” said a lot – this is not the first time we are doing this. How come I never heard this before? How long has this been going on? I was just oblivious to all that was happening within me. Now let’s strike a deal, Stop saying hi to people (ok, maybe say hi only to very very good looking guys), And maybe I’ll decide not to cut u off. Bye, Yours sincerely, Your owner… – for now Posted with WordPress for…

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Real Deal

Originally posted on DaValz Code:
Her: They said its love I couldn’t identify it The feeling was too real Love is for Cinderellas and Barbies I’m humane I call it …. Well the real deal Him: I have penned notepads describing the one Incognisant like a pig in a pen bathing in dirt But you hovered like an amused butterfly…

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The Women anthology (online book launch).

Radioactive published its 3rd edition anthology for the year today, dedicating it to International Women’s day (March 8). Featuring female poets from different parts of the world. The publication which is available as an electronic book (pdf: digital book) and is free on datafilehost and ISSUU. It will be discussed online on Radio Africa with poems from the book and […]

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