Prose

A Trialogue Ludwig Feuerbach still has that long beard he wore while he was alive. Albert Camus, is wearing a pea coat, and he has an unlit cigarette in his mouth. They are sitting in the room quibbling over something I can’t decipher. What this place is, I don’t know. Where this place is, I didn’t know either. My brain is somewhere on earth, probably a hospital, trying to recuperate from the damage. Ludwig sees me. He starts speaking…with his German twinge of course. Ludwig: Ah! Willkommen! What brings you here? Me: I don’t know. I can’t remember exactly. The …

I want to know you, not sexually but actually mentally, importantly, sharing your thoughts thoroughly, I carefully want to draw you closer as we approach a state of tête-à-tête. I lay in wait as our heads unite and we move in perfect rhythm, exploring your mind in a gentle movement , sometimes we reach a schism, but that’s the reason, I want to reason with you. We could differ on opinions, but still value division in views. I want us to engage in dialogue, unplug the clogs of social blocks, and talk about stuff not supposed to be said on …

      The kids in the playground do not like me. Just yesterday, we did the “Knock, Knock” joke.   Me: Knock, Knock They: Who’s there? Me: You are… They: You are who?   ….The straw that broke the camel’s back.   Me: I am the spawn of sultans and the progeny of princes. So it’s no fault of mine that I crave to be crowned the king. I am the dream, that Martin spoke off, the chair that Rosa sat on, what Malcolm X was shot for. I am the freedom for the negro. See my ancestors and …

  My Son, if you’re reading this, two things are for certain: One, I’m dead and two you can read and understand the things I’m about to tell you. There are many things I would have loved to say to you in person, and trust me I tried. Fought dearly, but I lost that battle to cancer. So this was my backup plan, a testament of the advice that will get you through this mad-man-circus called life. Please don’t disregard this as trite “Self-help” advice. These are things, I would have loved to say in person over the course of …

This is a guest write up by my dear friend, Funmi Ogunlusi I run my fingers across the warm plastic. Across the flatness… Across the ridges… Letters, numbers, symbols… Literally at my finger tips. Yet, I lift my eyes and I am confronted with blank whiteness. It mocks me. It’s been thirty minutes. A wise person once said “Life is a bitch”. If that is the case, then writer’s block is Eve, Jezebel and Cleopatra rolled up in one. She is the totality of all femme fatales who have ever lived, and she strikes with a vengeance. When she comes, …

Ugly I am, Ugly I will be With a face only a mother will love Spawn of Ogres, progeny of Beasts I walk amongst men if they’re fit to be called A pariah amongst my clan, deracinated for the way I look Laughed at and derided, because my genetic code wasn’t written with a pen but charcoal But… When you’re falling off a cliff and need one last rope. When you need an extra hand and something to hold. Does the presence of my grotesque grace fill you with fear or fill you with hope? Now, you will touch me …

Shafts of light, piercing through the brume of the skies, glaze the surface of a granite stone. Specks of phenocryst reflect beams of resplendence unto the cornea. The dusky curtains had been pulled away by the chariot of Helios, waiting to be pulled over again in the night; meanwhile, the chameleon rests on a green leaf that is partially submerged in the tepid waters of the Amazon forest. As it basks in the sun, a kaleidoscope of brightly colored leaves, with droplets of water cascading from leaf to leaf, completes the morning spectacle. The gazelle wakes up, its thin curved …