POETRY FESTIVAL AT ILESHA

On the 5th of December, 2015

This night I worship in the shrine of words
As poetry splashes
Its cold waters, not on my skin
But within, not on my spirit,
But within, not on my soul,
But within, not on my-
Okay, what else?

Okay, my skin is shrinking,
Spirit, sinking
My soul, thinking
And my being being pricked.
And this night, I feel it deeply within
as poetry
Wets me softly with its fluid.

Enjoying my time at Ilesha @ a Poetry Festival organised by Professor Lamikanra

My name is Mide Benedict and I'm here sitting and listening to how words form itself in itself and through itself and okay, also by itself.

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TWO WATERS by Mide Benedict

When two stones meet, they say, either one breaks the other, or they both break into pieces, but when two waters mix, they become one, and inseparable: so was the way it went for Akanji and Aduke. The day was bright at that time. The light of the sun shinned through the clouds, covering large fields of grasses and making them appear very radiant in their green skins. Akanji had kept it in mind for long: his heart pierced him badly that he knew that day was the day he would regain his freedom. Aduke, an elegant lady with vibrant smiles, enormous charms that made men melt on sighting her, sat beside Akanji as they usually did everyday. Many men have dreamt of Aduke in the night when they snoozed in bed with snores. In fact, many wanted to have her as something; be it wife, mistress or whatever just to have a taste of her, but the more they spoke to her, the more she ...

Mute by Mide Benedict

That Friday, everyone was spitless, yet it felt as if we spoke all at once in fading tones. Adiza, Halimat's sister wore it differently, her eyes, blood red, her tongue, twisted. Mine was twisted too. Halimat laid right there, silent and unmoving; each gaze at her drove tears out of my eyes.

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

Temple of Words

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