CONTENTS

3 5 6 8 9 11 12 14 15 16 17 18 20

Preface At The End of it ALl - ANGIE Nwokedi How Can i explain the blood - CATHERINE SARPONG Identity - Edidiong udoh I am - francis xavier labiran Memoirs of a point five- Kimberley Kasirowore I am champion - Mary Akinsulire I am a virgo man- Musa Jebak two worlds - ossie foreigner - Quaam Animashaun Moonlight - Rae Twumasi how to be a man - Seyi Ezekiel the poet And you are - Truth poetic

Preface Who am I ? A question that each person has or will ask themselves at a point in theiR life. An innate primal craving that we all yearn to satisfy. Some people define themselves through the eyes of others or as they would like to be seen. Very few people have seen their true reflection and even less have the stomach to accept it. Society is at a very rebellious stage and everyone seems to want to disassociate themselves from the social norm, everyone trying hard to exhaust the possibilities of change. This book was thought up after the well received My Love anthology and has evolved to a state which has put different personalities and people to the test, examining the in depth nature of the human mind which will hopefully make connections with the readers or at the very least stir up thoughts on each persons existence. Some names you will recognise from the first book, such as Rachel Twumasi, Angie Nwokedi and Francis Xavier Labiran. Most of the other poets are new to Wordjar, enabling us to provide readers with the range that they require. New names include; Edidiong Udoh, Ossie, Kimberley, Musa, Quaam, Mary, Catherine Sarpong and Truth Poetic. This impressive bunch of writers have contributed an inspiring array of work and on behalf of Wordjar and its founder Francis Labiran, I would like to thank you for your hard work patience and cooperation. Angie Nwokedi Editor (Wordjar)

WHO AM I?

At The End Of It All.

Taking a break from my own pompous, egotistical view on the reflection of my being and the intensified glare of my soul. Breaching the gap between the lies whispered in my mind and the truth in reality, I am asked who I am And all that seems to erupt from memory Is; I am the daughter of my mother, the sister to my siblings and my fathers spawn. Leached from the crooked corner of an incandescent thought and the simplest form of love, I have grown to become a strangers friend, my best friends lover and my enemys dueller. Thinking through the eclipse of my childhood is a hazy affair Lifting me into the dawn of adulthood, Realising I am dancing around the question asked, Tracing circles across a square cut page, I say with certainty I am who you make me. Enemy or friend, kind or self-centred, loving or needy, it is who you say I am, I will be for you. As for who I am to me, I will refer you to all those who I have loved and to that limestone slab at the end of my tether. Here lies a sister, a friend. She was loved.

by ANGIE NWOKEDI

How Can I Explain The Blood? (A Vision...)

A red liquid like substance falls into a well Well. Looking more like a clear basin, still. The effect of this Blood falling into the basinThe effect ofThe effect of this BloodExcuse me.

How Can I Explain The Blood? MY HEART PLEADS FOR AN UNDERSTANDING OF SUCH
Strength and potency in a liquid substance. Or is it a substance? Have you portrayed it this way for my miniscule mind to develop and attain An understanding about how the Lamb was slain And in that, refrain From calling Him a man And just GOD?

IS IT TRUE

That my mind cant get around The fact that a man can leave a red coloured hue On the ground of the Earth And that whoever walks upon the Earth Can and will be turned around? Can my mind not get around that turn around That You brought around? Bought with Your Blood To be Brought into Your House.
Literally, four minutes pass as I think of what to Write. What to say to make this poem real and sound appealing somewhat. But most importantly...

To have it make sense.

How Can I Explain The Blood?

I COULDNT
Having You demonstrate the cause and effect (washing and cleansing me of all my defects) Explains all. Changing my status from reject To Priestess.

That you can look at my face And be impressed I... Will be forever thankful This, I cannot stress
Enough.

AND IN THAT RESOLVE, FROM MY OLD WAYS TO NEW

I see that all my changes, in You Are drenched and depicted only In that red coloured hue.

The Blood that falls into the well Hands forming and reaching to touch every crevice the well has to offer. Nothing going unsearched. This is Grace Coming to leave me blameless. This is Love that Im feeling Hands entering only by invitation Cleaning and replenishing Staining briefly just to eradicate every blemish Afraid of swimming Straining To keep my head above the sea of grace That fills my well. Well. To be Saved, I must drown? Well. How Can I Explain The Blood? The explanation resides in my resolve. And in His Blood. For no Words can speak better than itself. Amen.

by CATHERINE SARPONG

IDENTITY
I, The one word around which my every being revolves Unique in every sense of the word I stand out from everyone else I need not hide, nay I stand tall and flaunt my title as a peacock would its feathers Leaving my essence on the runway of life as I breeze through With my name shall I imprint my identity into the timelines of history. That when my journey through this world is done It shall not have been in vain But that my name live on in the hearts of those present and to come I am outstanding My name is my identity I am my name I am my identity I will not be suppressed

by EDIDIONG UDOH

I Am
I am The soul of a slave turned king in the slums Heart beat speaking like a talk-ing drum Life riddled by questions of where im from I am A militant wordsmith With a warrior state of mind I stab my pen into the heart of my readers Let the ink plant a metaphor that grows to define them Im violent As a chorus of violin strings Being sawed at by their musical masters As vocal as your spiritual pastor I preach egotistical verses of fortune based dreams Where I transform my woman from my wife to my queen In her womb plant a seed that grows to bare a fruit full tree. I mean This superman complex will be the death of me Im ignoring pain, living vain Squatting when the world is on my shoulders And bench pressing the stress off my chest Dressed in the boastful robes of my royal pride My mocha melanin shows signs of dilution Distorted accent proof of my tri-nationality Reclusive eyes stemming from tribulations However none of this explains How i manage to hold The sun to my core Manipulating worlds to orbit me And i speak so profoundly Because the palms of my parents, Tips of their canes, Sharp words of enemies And the fists of my oppressors Have moulded this character From the swag in my step To the double bunny eared shaped laces in my creps Styled out in An anglo American Mish mash of Old school hip hop Prep boy cardigans

Matte black fitteds Blue harbour jeans, And the such And i know that aint saying much But ive never been one to use excuses as a crutch I sing my own praises And swallow my failures I am Standing here On a patch of gaia i have made my own I lay before you My fortune of gold My sun spinning core And kryptonian ego Judge me as you wish Because I am

by FRANCIS XAVIER LABIRAN

10

Memoirs of a point five

I am Zimbabwean. And there is nothing you can say thatll take that away, Coz its flows through my blood and its air in my lungs. When I think, I think with multiple tongues. Switching constantly from Shona to English to Shonglish and hear this, I know what every colour in the flag represents And in the event you no longer have one, I can trance you one with my index finger in fresh dust, from old memory. I am Zimbabwean and refuse to conform to whatever you figure, consider looks to be the Zim Norm. I am Zimbabwean And also part English, Hence why my skins slightly lighter And I think nothing odd about this. Ill accept coloured Zimbabwean Not Point 5 or half caste, mongrel or mixed breed, or whatever derogatory funny term you would like to coin to term me. Im not going to prove That I can verse my other tongue, Or tell you which part of Zim My fathers fathers from. I am Zimbabwean because of the Traditions I choose to heed. The culture that Ill continue to feed on Despite being belonging to the Zim diasporra Ive said it, Ive written, and with reason I plead That if youve failed to comprehend it you Glance up and re-read. I am Zimbabwean Take it or Leave it. I am Zimbabwean because Ive said it, believe it.

by KIMBERLEY KASIROWORE

11

I am champion.
How do you admit to an identity crisis? I feel like Im at the back of the class Behind Spiderman Barbie And Super Mario But I know not to ask for assistance From the teacher Because if I put my hand up what if they dont see it? No identity leads to having no form Therefore I am nothing. And I dont want to be that. So then the question in this exam paper of my life That Im currently studying for is Who am I? No marks rewarded for writing your name Because your parents chose that for you. And my two different passports are hardly sources I can use either Thats like...a complete waste of revision. I am not my hair And I am not my skin And so writing myself off as a dark skin beauty hardly fills in the blank That is still staring me in the face. Running for the bleach cream either Will not exactly gain me the marks Especially when one day its just going to rot into the dust we walk on. And most importantly I am not your expectations. From looking at my face intertwined with stereotypes A bar of expectations have been set for me; I have chosen not to reach it I will surpass it So maybe I am a rebel. Am I given a mark for that? Two? Instead of finding yourself the teacher said create yourself But I worship a God who has created me with His own box of Crayolas And I dont think I know my own identity as well as He does So I seek Him to find the creation of myself I seek Him until I am soaked in Him And there is less of me and more of Him I will let His light shine in me and radiate through the whole globe And then I can stand tall protruding the colours of the rainbow Up to the point where I can no longer define myself as black And my neighbour as white And the stereotypes created by the world Fail to exist in me Because as John 15:18-19 says I am an outcast And I do not belong to this world. How many marks have I gathered for this question now? Because you see at the end of the day I want to collect my crown knowing that I passed the exam

With a percentage close to 100%. I do realise that I am human and I am bound to fall Whether its me biting out of the forbidden fruit more than twice After spitting it out Or me convincing a fellow friend to climb and eat the fruit themselves But...but what if I dont make it? What if the test paper comes back and I realise Ive failed Next to my identity will be the word failure right? I am not a failure. God dont let me be. Because if my name doesnt end up in the book of life It means I never really existed; Allowing myself to burn in a lake of fire and evaporate into nothing And then where is my identity? What identity do I then have? So thats why I tell myself continually as I do this test Optimistically That I am a queen. A champion. A successful entrepreneur I am that girl you see out there with a story behind her Like that of a fairytale rather than a cliff-hanger I am that girl you see who stands tall with their head held high With angels gathered around her I am the one you call blessed But most importantly...Im that girl who chose not to follow the teachers script. The worlds script. Written off to become one of those statistics I was part of that percentage who werent supposed to pass the test But when you serve a God of miracles Things turn around for the greater good So if my identity passes the test in flying colours Dont be surprised yeah? I cling to the winning identity I am a child of God.

by MARY AKINSULIRE

13

i am a virgo man
I am a virgo man. You can spot me from a mile away im almost lonerish with my independance on my shoulder. Man i can do it all by myself, I do not need nobody else! And if it all becomes too much i can get through it all without you lending your hand to help. Call me selfish because i know sometimes it may seem that way. But really im just doing me and i swear my intentions were good when i started out today just like they were yesterday. I am the virgo man. I will shoot you down point blank. Please dont ask me a question if you dont want the answer to be frank. I didnt mean to hurt your feelings or to be rude. But im not a very good liar and thats an honest truth. Please dont beat round the bush with me, be straightforward and dont be blunt i want to feel your point. The virgo man. Perfection is my aim in every aspect of life. So after i have taken all this time tweeking and twisting how dare you critisize! Yes i have my flaws i know because they are mine. And i know that perfect isnt always practical and cannot be reached all the time. But i just seem to lose interest in things that are not up to scratch or dont give me no pride. I am THE Virgo man, yes this is true.

by MUSA JEBAK

14

Two Worlds
Dozing off, in Space & Time I escape to the world in this mind of mine. So much is happening, but it doesnt really make sense And I get lost in this world lost to the inside and reality Then, Im snapped right out. Im tense. My breath is heavy. Eyes, still. Completely motionless Where I disappear to remains unknown. Its complicated to explain. My imagination loves to take over again and again. This world within me From past to future. Its quite cool with all the nice creatures, Human and non-human filling up the space A nice aura comes from my sky I ask, Why? Why let greatness here pass reality by? To myself. I look back out from my atmosphere to here Greatness shines by itself People. Nature. Opportunities. Now, theres nothing I want to hide. Am I just an empty vessel? Or am I full of ideas? Im not sure I should probably wake up instead But I fear to get out of my world. As time goes on, I realise Both worlds, mine & reality, come through my eyes. Truthfully, they make me what I became. Reality mixed with dreams makes a real focus, you see. I shouldnt think too much. I might get lost forever, But Ill make my dreams the reality. Ill shine right through. Im thankful I got this new step What I thought Id never turn to The dreamer. The stronger believer. The History Maker.

by OSSIE

15

Foreigner
Foreigner The synonym for intruder, outsider or a refugee In the mother- land This is my identity Could you introduce me to the man who invented black? Or hand me a dictionary And a manual on how to act Because they deem if I listen to a little more Oasis than Lil Wayne Prefer the Queens English instead of slang Dress as if I was Carlton Banks Then I am nothing more than a black oyinbo man This is my identity Quaam Animashaun Just a name on a plastic card But can you attain my personality from this? Know my life story Or who I truly am I question your answer As you say you can this is my identity To some I am nothing more than what their eyes see They attach their pre-conceptions In order to describe me But how can they tell who I am When my soul still seeks The answers within And I refuse to be confined By all of your stereotypes My identity consists Of being more than a black man Ultimately there are one thousand and one layers to who I am This is my identity

by QUAAM ANIMASHAUN

16

MOONLIGHT
Id like to always shine. To be moonlight all the time, but too often I will clouds to block my light. It feels safer. And perhaps too many times Ive let a new moon hide, as the world cuts between the Son and I. I cant stay here... Every new moon has me questioning my identity. Every full moon has me learning, saying, Oh! Thats me. Learning that though my essence cant be squashed into a description box, Ill still try. Still wonder how A, B, C and D all reflect me. Still troubled by the lack of continuity. Ponder on this. Still. Till I wander under the moonlight... The full moon has me questioning my identity. Looming sunrise has me learning, finding, Oh, Thats...me. Learning that though Im on a path He guides, Im prone to fall into holes. And Im not special in this. Learning to feel off centre is my norm if Hes not at the centre. Reflect on this. Fight myself as I wonder at the Sons light... In it Im all I need to be. By it Im learning, shaping me. If I could always shine, just be moonlight all the time, then I wouldnt allow clouds to waste my time. Simple vapour. Maybe this time Ill try, to let my moonlight shine and show the Sonlight isnt far too bright. Its our saviour.

by RACHAEL TWUMASI

17

How to be a man
I grew up in a time where masculinity was weighed in a way where the more sex you had, the closer you were to becoming a man Where violence was emphasised as a pivotal aspect of life, separating the weak from the strong Where it was considered heroic to be in possession of a strap or a condom Where video games replaced education and our expectations centered around the release of the next FIFA or NBA street Where smoking was classified as a recreational hobby that all real men should copy Where the life of fellow man was not respected or understood, where it was glamorised to be a social reject residing in the hood I grew up in a time where sensitivity in a man was taboo, where to love was far from applauded but booed Where cruelty and coldness typified the stereotypically acceptable man, where the process of socialisation instructed boys that weapons were his favourite toys and emotional connection should remain void Where laughter or repetitious displays of happiness were scorned, where a cloak of bravery must consistently be worn Where the boundaries between fact and fiction were forcibly blurred, where marriage was perceived as a prison sentence every man must desert Where thoughtfulness was deterred, where the failure to objectify women was absurd I grew up in a time where my upbringing failed to correlate with what was expected of me, as a man

I do not fit the mould I was raised to respect women instead of salivate over them as if they were pieces of meat, I was raised to not see my emotions as a hindrance but as a sign of humanity I couldnt begin to understand how every man behaves in such barbaric ways and feels its okay Chained to outlines laid down by a society where manliness visits ideals that drum into him that Pussy, Money, Weed should be his only goals and anything that jeopardises that should be killed Failing to acknowledge that masculinity is what you make it, because so many men are so far up societys bum crack unable to understand that obedience to ignorance only breeds mass stupidity There are so many ways to be a man, some acceptable, some far from tolerable But the only man to be is a man that is true to yourself

by SEYI EZEKIEL THE POET

19

And you are...?

whats your name? I ask are you the one I have been waiting on? days I have longed and searched for he who was spoken of to see for myself who you really were maybe I have been too eager in awaiting you maybe I have been as one without purpose but to waiting upon what I do not even know have I expected too much of you? have I even expected at all? will you be all I thought u were? or will you redefine my expectation? only if your name had been revealed I would have known u maybe if your face had been uncovered to my mind I would have comprehended will you be the right person for me to learn from? will you teach me that which I need from you? am I asking too many questions? can I expect you to answer me any of them? I hunger to know you I long to delve into your very essence to understand your composition to map your origin will I be able to touch you when u appear? will u even be real? I want to know you in ways I have never known anyone to see your soul and feel your aura yet still I do not know who u are I do not even know why I desire to know you there you are, but,. But,... I know you I see you everyday I hear your voice in my head and in my consciousness you are more familiar to me than anyone else you are the only person I have known since birth yet I still don not know you I do not understand you I cannot grasp your mindset I have not known your thoughts

you are me and I am you yet your name I do not know your life I have seen yet do not envy your existence I feel yet do not desire your emotion I feel your emotion I loath the pain too deep to comprehend the tears to deep to swim through your life too dark to see though you are me yet your name I till do not know to know me more than me that is what I could not do....

by TRUTH POETIC

21

Published in 2011 by Wordjar Publishing No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except for the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews Wordjarpublishing@gmail.com Wordjar Publishing. London Edited by: Angie Nwokedi (Wordjar Publishing) Illustrated and designed by: Kelvin Akposoe (Wordjar publishing)

Designed by Kelvin Akposoe Facebook.com/Kelvin.Akposoe www.designofka.com kelvin.akposoe@gmail.com