Afritalks Poetry Contest

By O.tayo · Oct 23, 2016 ·
  1. O.tayo

    O.tayo Active Member

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    Afritalks Poetry Contest

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  2. O.tayo

    O.tayo Active Member

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    Post your poem here as "Post reply".
  3. Nome Patt

    Nome Patt New Member

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    The Other Room

    Let me start with a kiss of pun on the body
    Of the lips of every reader waiting to unveil
    The shawl of the damsel swirling in this mystery
    And articulate in one breath 'what is the other room?'
    Let your brain stand on the threshold of your body
    And wrap itself around your head:

    The other room is where a firefly shares wings with a butterfly,
    He burns her with every perch so brittle, so fragile
    And lightens her beauty with iridescent poses
    That's why she appears like a rainbow
    With different colourful wrinkles, swapping gently
    In the air of media – interviews and all the sorts.

    Last night she said she might not ride by his side
    This chariot breaking into the eyes of angels and archangels,
    This chariot flaring our hopes with fire and fire and fire
    Tucking us into the inferno in the belly of recession
    And leaving us to burn like those innocent UNIPORT students
    So we search God's eyes for a new Moses,
    We raise our heads to the sky dabbing the storm on our cheeks.

    Last night we sat back and watched
    The Don cums with his mouth holding
    Words like semen rushing into the face of us all.

    My father is a Pharaoh of comedy.
    He said his damsel belongs to where we keep
    Inanimate souls of food making bodies
    He said she belongs to the big heart in the body of a house
    And ends it thus: 'And the other room.'
    And now we fall into the body of laughter in his speech
    Like it'll awaken the butterflies that have died in our bellies,
    Like it'll illuminate the fireflies whose wings have found graves
    In the tottering eyes of this great Nation,
    Like it'll pull us out from the inferno of recession?
    Remember: My father is a Pharaoh of comedy.

    Let me end this with a kiss on the forehead of the world
    Hoping it'll send rays of light into their skulls and mine
    For 'The other room' is like a comic relief in a tragic story
    Of a country dying in corruption, bad leadership and all the sorts.

    Nome Patrick is a-20-year old poet and writer. He is an undergraduate of the university of Benin. His poems have been featured on various anthologies and online magazines. He is shy but finds boldness in reading and writing.
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  4. Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia New Member

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    Etim! Etim! Poo! Poo!

    They say if you hear the sound of a pestle from other compounds

    Pound some of the fufu for yourself

    For all you know, koobi soup taunts your nostrils like some expensive meat

    Why then do most heads turn from their businesses

    When a sound clicks from the other room?

    Ei! Asaase Yaa, am I not guilty of my charge?


    I have a heart like a river-triplet

    A medium part whimpering like a cat wronged at the callouses hands suffer

    A little part occasionally looking down to skip stepping on hands, no grateful lesson

    A bigger part always looking up to heads up this ladder of life, watering my jealousy

    All flowing in one space, fighting for my little tunnel

    Why do I always focus on the other room?

    Hmmm! Why do calabashes of palm-wine meant for others look so attractive?


    Am I a living ingrate? I have a room

    If dirt of poverty litters, I can always get a hard work broom

    I can wipe clean, if pain codifies on my mirror ‘doom’

    If harmattan kills my flowers, rainy season can help it bloom

    If my talents are so so, I can always get perfect hands to groom

    So why do I always look at the other room?

    Ah! Why does it fan my curiosity and nurse my inattentiveness in bomb boom?


    The laughter in the other room intimidates even in acting

    Drawing pictures of teeth happily chatting

    Painting pictures of hands flawlessly embracing

    Clicking fantasy-cameras of eyes apt in victorious symphony with legs in dancing

    Moulding perfect lovers even in deafening silence on moons dining

    Making mine a room filled with trapped bees gone wild and harming

    The other room, the other room! Haunting and taunting!


    Why does the other room spell love in quietude?

    Changing zeal here in this enclave of a heart in attitude

    Killing passions and growing groveling servitude

    When the other room sees not, let alone grant gratitude

    Reveling in the many heads dancing in motivational platitude

    Even giraffes conquered on lion battlefields are charming there! A room in high latitude!

    Why do I crave to be in the other room when I know the horses that drive their fortitude?


    Could the other room be my doom?

    Eyes of mine, can’t you stay on our path for clarity?

    You blame ears for disturbance; can ears stay alert without hearing it all?

    You blame mind for lagging, who makes plans without thoughts of reality?

    Then again, what are eyes without the yearning for explorative sighting?

    You many in one, can’t you shelve the other room

    And plant discipline, uprooting horrid weeds to grow your pastures into green?


    If you can’t shelve the other room

    Can’t it be your whip to fly instead of walking?

    Can it not be your pace to run instead of sitting?

    Can’t it stir your porridge of hunger to boil faster in motivation?

    Won’t you love to be a crown instead of some dirty boot?

    If only intruding mouths would mute their loud cheers and my jeers!

    Could the other room be a money master? Am I Africa in a stinky Zongo?

    Brief bio: Amoafowaa Sefa is a Ghanaian writer.
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  5. Akintola Akindele

    Akintola Akindele New Member

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    Subtly, I sat On my couch flexing with the evening breeze,
    Lo! Update plods toward me in it glamorous attire,
    In a cart here comes my change master full of tales,
    That woken all souls from their half dead body,
    The other room

    When I see this room,
    My heart beats louder than gong of a gun,
    It's race faster than the bolt called Usain,
    For this room is for the two equals one,
    For here am I with two equals two

    The room where Samsons lost to Delilah in despair,
    The room where Davids swore his allegiance truthfully to sin,
    The room where we swallow heart of human,
    The room where we held the ruling whip,
    The room where fate is decided

    It also a rooms where future were given birth to,
    Where the light of tomorrow are groom,
    The room which offer it treasure in pleasure ,
    The room which offer sweetness in it bitterness
    The other room, where we all come from.


    Short Biography *
    Akintola Akindele Abdulqadir is a budding poet and a writer. He is also a barrister in the making. He has been featured in few blogs and anthologies. He loves to write about happenings in his surroundings and tragedy.
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  6. Jude ifesinachi

    Jude ifesinachi New Member

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    Other room
    I've made a covenant
    With my eyes not to look
    At a woman lustifully
    Yet when I gaze at you
    I see the future
    Where we lay unclad in the other room
    Savouring its ecstasy
    Devouring each other in its passion
    And mingling down the tunnel of love
    I see our bare flesh
    Wrapped up into each other
    All alone in the presidential other room
    Lips entwined and dancing
    To the melody of passionate love
    I see us reserving nothing
    Withholding nothing
    Rejecting nothing
    And yielding to the lures of the other room.
    Author biography: jude ifesinachi nnabugwu. Poet, novelist and playwright, I write a lot of tragedies quite alot. From Anambra state Nigeria. Theatre artist in making.
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  7. wale

    wale New Member

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    The Other Room.

    The Other Room, dark and gloomy.
    Where dreams and visions are tired down.
    Where talents and gifts rot away.

    The other room, stuffy and choking.
    Where thoughts and feelings are suppressed.
    Where tears and emotions go unnoticed.

    The other room, my confidant when am down.
    Whose walls have seen and heard it all.
    Whose floors my sorrow tread.

    The other room, treasure joint for everything soft and beautiful.
    Bearer of my scars and pain.
    Who knows my every part.

    The other room, a place i dream to leave.
    Where society points me to.
    Where gender hinders me.

    The other room, my place by sex.
    where grinding and pounding take place,
    sweat and heat mingle.

    The other room, oh the other room,
    How i wish i had a name for you.
    Room oh room.....

    OLOWOPOROKU Adewale is a boy. Moody and friendly. A journalist, writer, dreamer and good bathroom singer.

    Attached Files:

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  8. Boatenmaa

    Boatenmaa New Member

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    Knock knock knock
    My knuckles white
    Blood trickles down
    Pain shoots up my spine
    My lips taped shut

    Knock knock knock
    I rap on the door intently
    No pace set
    No intensity increase

    Knock knock knock
    On the other side, voices subdued
    Movements swift

    Walls built so high
    Yet so thin as membranes
    Slick as snake's skin
    Clingy as dirt on wet fur

    On the other side, a peep none to see
    An imagination all there is
    A painting so created in lieu
    So vague
    My eyes dare to see

    The other side
    A room full of bustling
    A room full of life
    My thoughts sweetly fabricates
    Twists and turns that may be
    Yet dismay is bound to follow
    Undeterred, my passion

    A shadow creeps in
    Drawn explicitly
    Hands reach out
    A tear as a rush of wind gushes out
    The door collapses

    Sweetly I plaster the tear
    Fixing the gap
    Sliding into oblivion
    I remain unknown
    Imagining what might possibly be in the other room
    Intrigued just as the sounds escape

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  9. Ifeoluwa Dorcas

    Ifeoluwa Dorcas New Member

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    In the other room
    Where all I feel is the intensity
    I completely forget my identity
    Even if it leads to adversity
    All I want now is the intimacy

    Cuddled in your embrace
    I can neither think nor see
    For all other things seems to be like an ocean
    It swims before my face

    Bring me back to the world
    For now i'm in the other room
    Where all other things seems not to exist
    But you and I

    In this wonder room
    All I want is you
    Perpendicular to the atmosphere of this room
    I might not even remove my shoe
    In the intensity of the push
    I cannot but feel the hush

    The press of your lips
    The rolls of your tongue
    The close of your eyes
    The motion of your body
    Even the tenderness of your hands
    Leaves me with no other choice
    But to close my former room
    In which I alone controls my system

    Whisper it in my ears
    If need be, use your bedroom voice
    Tell me if i'm your only one
    Tell me how much I mean to you
    For now the world means nothing but you

    So tell me before I get lost
    Tell me i'm also your world
    Tell me i'm nothing but the best
    For what essence is it if I loose myself
    And I mean nothing to you but a pest

    If indeed i'm your bride
    Now make me see the other side
    Which no one can see but you and I
    Let's make it full of fantasies
    Land of kisses of promises

    Round and round the room revolves
    Tick tock tinkles the bell beside the bed
    But your tickle make me giggle in surrender
    Your slimsy smile held my eyes
    In a while I couldn't help but see the stars
    This room is indeed nothing but wonder
    The world itself revolves round the room

    The room of imaginations make real
    The room of the real deal
    Blurry room of lofty lust
    Rocking bust like moldery dust
    Do not leave me I pray you
    Be with me in pari passu
    For where else can I breath this well?
    Let's go deep down the pit
    Into no where else but

    Written by Ifeoluwa Dorcas. Dedicated to Lovers who do not have enough "salt" in their love life, pray this poem makes their Love sweeter than before.

    Bio: My full name is Ojo Ifeoluwa Dorcas. 18years undergraduate student of Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Osun state, Nigeria. I'm a native of Osun state, Nigeria. A theatre artist in the making. I have passion for Writing, Acting and Reading.
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  10. Gertn

    Gertn Active Member

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    Afritalks is a good place to showcase your writing skills.
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  11. Akinloye Akinniyi

    Akinloye Akinniyi New Member

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    Staring at the sun
    Smiling at the moon
    All that comes to my mind is the people I'm the room

    The other room is this room
    Which no one know when to move
    With no knowledge of what it holds
    Be it gloom or doom

    Misconception brought about a fluke
    Haters wrote books
    All of them feeling cool
    Because they have what they need
    Which is food

    I've got something new
    The other room is a place of love and care
    To ease the burden we can't bare
    Easing the pains of years
    Stopping the race of fear
    Bringing peace and care.

    The other room
    My dream room
    Where I can show who I really am
    Stop my daily meal of beans and yam
    But now, I am who I am
    The alien from mars
    All I take is butter and Ice

    I wish to someday own the media
    Telling them of my room
    And the owner of each
    But for now,I'm in one with no itch
    Already crossing the bridge
    Till the media bleeds and weep
    From the lashes from my whip.

    I belong to the room
    The room of bloom and mood
    To do and undo
    Show to the world that obstacles to me are mere cartoon.

    Written by Akinloye Akinniyi
    Strictly for people who believe they can survive and make a difference wherever they find themselves.

    Bio Akinloye Akinniyi is a 22 years
    Old undergraduate of Osun State University,Ejigbo Campus (college of agriculture) Nigeria. A native of Osun state with a bright mind and committed spirit to youth counselling.
    I really love what I do,which is writing!!!
    Last edited: Nov 2, 2016
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  12. Ololade Akinlabi

    Ololade Akinlabi New Member

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    The Other Room

    Bride with pride, desist from the other room
    Its bricks and mortars embrace doom
    Filthy, unfriendly with the broom
    In there, hatred spreads wings and zoom.

    Lucky groom, epitome of a handsome dude
    Avoid the other room, not refined, very crude
    Whip room, for wives that are rude
    Lucky groom, be a man and not a prude.

    Am Ololade Akinlabi by name, graduated from Obafemi Awolowo University, his spur for words prompts him to express his feelings through poems. He hails from Ibadan, Oyo state, Nigeria.
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  13. Chinua

    Chinua New Member

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    It had rained the night before
    In the other room and it
    Rained on an old woman.

    I was there, perched at a corner and stared
    For in the other room was an old woman, my mother:
    She possessed a body like that of a
    Starved and deformed child and weary of
    These past, past years.

    It had rained the night before;
    It had rained on an old woman
    in the other room and
    there was a speaking silence.

    Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto likes to read and write.
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  14. Splendour#1

    Splendour#1 New Member

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    I had the effrontery
    to be a teenager
    in a Third World country.
    What a danger!
    I'll unburden my heart's-store
    filled to brim with horror.
    Don't judge me tomorrow.
    Don't add to my sorrow.

    I'll tell you a tale
    of when I was ten
    so young and frail,
    so innocent then.
    I had a loving father
    And a joy-filled mother.
    No sister nor brother,
    just me and no other.

    Soon father was diseased
    We couldn't afford his bills
    he become deceased
    And we had more bills
    Mother tried her best
    She toiled without rest
    Till we had a guest
    He touched mum's breast

    Soon we moved to his home
    Oh! So grand a place
    As dashing as Rome
    T'was Aphrodite's palace.
    Had a stunning living room
    An award winning kitchen
    there was this other room
    But our joy ran like a mitten

    For he'll whip mum
    In the other room
    filled to the brim with rum
    Using his hands or a broom
    He'll push me in the other room at noon.
    When mother has gone
    and rip my innocence to the moon
    with something shaped like a gun.

    One day a rich man spoke
    Reminding us where we belong
    Our patience broke.
    We've endured for long.
    So we used the Kitchen
    I and mother.
    With a poison laced chicken
    we committed murder.

    Splendour is a media personality and entrepreneur who loves reading.
    Last edited: Oct 27, 2016
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  15. Olaleye Gift Emmanuel

    Olaleye Gift Emmanuel New Member

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    Ajar! Ye doors, Ajar!
    Unto new inhabitants,
    Conveyed through the portal of death,
    To desert humanity over yonder.

    Bolt! Ye doors, Bolt!
    That the inhabitants grasp,
    Our music - A cacophonous shriek,
    Our dances - A writhing gesture.


    Olaleye Gift Emmanuel is a Nigerian writer who aims to educate, reform, and thrill his audience with every bledded ink.
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  16. Aladodo

    Aladodo New Member

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    When marking out the house plan, it's structure is carefully marked out.
    The other room!

    A room like no other
    It can't be seen on first sight.
    For it is well cornered.
    The other room!

    When a newly wedded comes in,
    it is a place where she spends her first sacred night.
    The other room!!

    The rich ones decorates it to their sweetness.
    No matter how small it will be, even the poor ones afford it too.
    The other room!

    A place where the husband can willingly kneel for the wife,
    Just to quench his own thirst.
    The other room!

    A place where the wife is mostly the decision maker.
    For the formation belongs to her.
    The other room!!

    No matter who we are today, the other room was our genesis.
    Let's learn to respect that lovely place.
    The other room!

    Shehu Abdus-Salaam Aladodo is an undergraduate writer and poet whose poem and write-ups has been published on several blogs. He's also a campus Journalist.
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  17. Ogunyomi Israel Abidemi

    Ogunyomi Israel Abidemi New Member

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    Hurray for the rain rod,
    Landlord of the other room!
    In and out, out and in, indescribably;
    To and fro, fro and to, inexplicably;
    Until it gases out an infuriated ocean
    Into the deepest corner of the other room,
    Whose hairy rooftop forbids
    The face of the rising Sun,
    Whose temperate tunnel
    Detests the light of the midnight moon,
    Whose sumptuous sweetness
    Transcends the thought of the tasting tongue,
    Where reason fatally falls flat -
    Prevailing passion, presenting the leading light!


    Ògúnyọmí Israel Abídèmí hails from Owode-Ofaro, Ifelodun Local Government Area Kwara State, Nigeria. He graduated with a second class (upper division) from the Department of Philosophy, Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, Osun State; Nigeria. He was a Production Manager for ANA-Osun (O.A.U. Branch) for a year and a Poetry Columnist/ Production Manager at The Critic, Department of Philosophy, O.A.U. (also for a year). His works have been published in various creative websites online.
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  18. Ojo Oyeyemi

    Ojo Oyeyemi New Member

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    You shake and swallow the sumptuous meals.
    You dance heartily, dangling the glass of luscious wine.
    You sip at your mind, lipping the brim of the pricey stream.
    You call the tunes of refreshment,
    Like the crooning canaries, begging the days to cease.
    You snort, snapping your fingers at the chilling beer.
    You dress in fleece of fancy and strips of boundless gems.
    You pace on diamond tiles and railings of limitless pleasures.
    You ride in fleet of exotic cars and tyres of silver rims.
    You gallivant and gist your way out and saunter in beautiful hedges.
    You make the shots and sail the rivers, in cheers and smiles.
    You shop in elegant shelves and streets of golden doors.
    You yell in rising cheeks with whims of changing moods.
    You sit and criss-cross, scribbling the emptiness of the moments.
    You stay placid, rubbing your shoulders in snooty thoughts.

    But you have forgotten the other room.
    A room full of abundance of hunger and thirst.
    A room filled with doubts and despair.
    A room full of hardship and toil.
    A room filled with struggles and strains.
    A room full of lullabies of pains.
    A room filled with warmness and bareness.
    A room full of filthiness and muddiness.
    A room filled with grains of lucent fear.
    A room full of hatred and jealousy.
    A room filled with tainted hostility.
    A room full of a thousand cries.
    A room where salads pay occasional visits.
    A room where children lie upsettingly,
    Waiting and caressing the dryness of time.
    A room where people fan in embers of the night,
    As the Eve heralds the crest of Christmas.

    OJO OYEYEMI J. (2016)

    Ojo Oyeyemi is a graduate of Creative Arts with outstanding academic pedigree from University of Lagos. He also holds a Master degree in Visual Art History, University of Ibadan. He is a goal getter and passionate teacher who is result driven. He cares for the progress and sustenance of human race.

    Last edited: Oct 30, 2016
  19. James

    James New Member

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    During the expedition of our eagle's eye,
    Where meeting with many facets lie,
    In sum,life gave two faces,
    Like a tossed coin with foot traces.

    If you were there to unveil,
    Unveil the paradise of the eyes blinding flower,
    Stock with chain,
    hammered with nail,
    To block the rough climb of the tower.

    We have dwelled in that dungeon,
    But completely startled.
    When we realised we were gifted with vision,
    From the eclipse of our grope,
    our hope cascaded.
    Like bats,we chose to dwell in darkness.

    But we have survived
    Yes, we have survived, Survived the horror in that room,
    A horror that lasted through the night
    And gave birth to a dawn of shock,
    A dawn of fright,
    That which is so bright,
    We must stay far from this irony and agony.

    To another faze of life we flee,
    Though it has four corners and indestructible walls,
    There our rainbow bloods were dried,
    It seemed to me,
    Like a place to water our pride.

    But then our pride was killed,
    Shared out to the blood thirsty warlords,
    The warlords that broke into the quietness of our rooms
    And gave us a pieces of our peace,
    Burnt our farms
    Set ablaze fire our barns.

    As stoic as the enduring liquid black gold,
    We have decided to pick the crumbs,
    From the pieces of peace.
    Every rivulets has come with a stick of broom,
    The ebony hair from our native sweat gland,
    ties up our broom.

    And we gathered the cracks in one basket,
    We fled TO THE OTHER ROOM!
    Free from fatal flaw,
    The room we away ;
    To build our lost gold anew.

    I am JAMES LAWRENCE JOHN a Nigerian. I'm a native of Enugu State but resides @ minna in Niger state. currently schooling @ Federal College of education kotangora . loves putting ideas down in black and white also i love art in general.
    Last edited: Oct 31, 2016
  20. James

    James New Member

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