THE CRADLE

THE CRADLE

rain –  Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu (Bayero University Kano)

what provokes the sky
into screaming as it splits,
releasing heavy breaths
as thunder
and lightning, squirting water ?
is it the madness of orgasm
explosive and stark,
that the clouds
cannot conceal ?
i watch the sky shiver first;
sated woman of robust offerings
and yearnings,
moaning
as though the thrusts of nature
have reached that top,
and its heavy breaths are tremors
running through her thighs
settling as cold hot steam
in between
she relaxes,
the wind carries her heavy breaths,
slowly, then inaudibly
assuming the scent of dew

10281_560232600800539_6465662759596633366_nHauwa is a young Nigerian writer who resides in Minna and schools at Bayero University, Kano. She’s in her second year, studying Law. She’s inspired by any pair of lovely eyes and is irredeemably in love with John Green.

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

OUR MOTHER’S PRAYER – Samuel Oluwatobi Olatunji (University of Lagos)

 

The cemented floor had whitened our mother’s chocolate knees

Almost as white as the ceiling –

The silent, blank middleman between God and mother

 

God bless my husband and my children too

Our mother’s prayer was a sacrifice salted with love for her family

But it seemed our mother’s prayer was another Cain-ish sacrifice

Or God was too far away in His cloudy cosmos

And our mother’s prayer was like the Tower of Babel –

It would never reach God’s gold-tiled compound

 

So God didn’t know when the dark tongue of the road

Licked life out of our job-hunting father

 

Or probably God knew about everything

Probably He knew too that our frequent fasting was a product of poverty

And not piousness

So he had decided to punish us

To punish us hard like sinners in hell

 

Samuel OluwatobiSamuel Oluwatobi Olatunji is a final-year student of English at University of Lagos.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

BEACH CHRONICLES

 Everything Has Changed by Bona Solomon

 

A bold reason to smile…

I could walk the sun to the earth

Dream a million times:

Just to feel what I felt those nights

 

Those nights of extreme chills…

Cheeks overstretched from smiling without regrets,

Voice hoarse from internal screams of satisfaction,

Laughing with the hope of being heard by the ocean…

 

Counting stars with all admiration

A complete star I hope I become

Always beautiful to the one who named me

Forever thankful for the awesome thoughts

 

The feeling of being loved…

No level of heat can amount to the warm embrace:

So tight, received with gladness and attachment

Unspoken promises become clear in my head: I smile again.

 

Experiencing the best feelings ever…

Never letting go of what is real

Never doubting what is real

Savoring each moment deeply so as not to forget.

 

Kissing becomes a love potion…

A potion so effective, the magic kicks in immediately

The war of tongues fought with pride:

There’s no death when it becomes our addiction.

 

An addiction carefully wired, but so electrocuting…

The waves are not the only lapping sounds you can hear:

But the silence of feather-kisses and light touches…

Heated, gentle, passionate, but firm caressing of the lips.

 

Two young hearts secured like depth of great seas –

So deep, so wide: exploration is the only solution

The direction of the wind is all that matters

With you in front of me, I think I’m right.

 

 

I found solace on the sticky sand…

With the sand beneath my feet

Under the dark-blue skies,

Twilight assures me like my best friend.

 

The arms around me will forever protect me:

I know this; I feel it when I taste the French on your lips.

Memories that will remain ever lush…

I’m doing that smiling thing again-

Looking like an idiot when I zone off

 

Now I have a good reason to smile…

I wish to dream a million times,

Just to feel what I felt those nights.

 

 

img_20160705_120107-1Bona Solomon is a student of the University of Ibadan, currently studying Guidance and Counseling. Her poems were featured in the UI anthology book 1. She loves the concept of life, which she believes deals with freedom and self-comportment. She derives solace from wielding the pen.

 

6 thoughts on “THE CRADLE

  1. BONA Solomon am more than inspired!!
    this is the best i have read so far this year

  2. Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu I envy your sense of poetry. Great poem, you’ve me see the rain and sounds of thunder clap from another perspective, SEX.
    Would love to sit on a round table with you and maybe, talk poetry

  3. didn’t expect less from you, Samuel. I’m more than impressed.

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