What I would do with $388,550...!!!!

What would you do if money did not matter?

OK, wrong question cos money matters, it only varies in the degree of importance.

Like blood to the body, so is money to business.

But, if you were to ask me, what would you do with $388,550?

The answer?

I will change the world.

What would I do with $388,550?

Well, for now I have just one dream,

"Create a vibrant Spoken Word Poetry industry in Nigeria thereby creating opportunities for people especially the youths to express their God given talents and make a very decent living from it."  

You see, we were all created for impact, and the impact you make is the legacy you leave behind.

I am a believer in doing what you are loving, and loving what you are doing. I also believe people should be loving life and living in love.

How will $388,550 create an industry?

Well, that’s the simple part.

First, start the biggest Spoken Word Poetry show in Nigeria on a quarterly basis and ensure all Spoken Word Poets get paid “handsomely” for performing. (We have actually started doing this, even though we are yet to implement every aspect fully).

Second, start a slam poetry competition with a very “handsome” cash reward attached.  

Third, take the biggest Spoken Word Poetry show in Nigeria from one State to another State in Nigeria.

Fourth, start a slam poetry competition for tertiary institutions students.

Fifth, start a slam poetry competition between different States in Nigeria.

Sixth, start a slam poetry competition between different Countries in West Africa, and then Africa, and then, Nigeria versus USA J.

Seventh, there will definitely be an offshoot of the initial dream, and that would be my next target.

Would $388,500 be able to do all this?

Probably not.

But it would jump start 1 and 2, and you know what they say about the law of Aerodynamics, (i.e. when a plane starts to move and reaches a certain speed, the only thing it can do is to take off. By taking off, it defies the law of gravity and the only way the plane will succumb to the law of gravity and come down back to the ground is if it reduces speed or run out of fuel).

The more you do what you love to do, the more you gain momentum. The more momentum you gain, the more it is difficult to keep you from flying.

Ok, I guess you might want to ask, what is so special about Spoken Word Poetry? Why do I love Spoken Word Poetry?

True is, I don’t know why, I just do.

My personal mission in life is to make people happy, and Spoken Word Poetry is the vehicle that chose me. I didn't do the choosing.

I believe Spoken Word Poetry can motivate people to strive for excellence.

I believe Poets can inspire, excite, entertain, inform and connect with people through Spoken Word Poetry. 

I believe we can discover, nurture and promote spoken word poets so as to provide a means of livelihood for them and reduce the rate of poverty and unemployment in the country. 

Where are the poets?

They are all over the world, in every company, in every place of business, in every place of worship and in every schools. We have some are in the court room, some are in the hospitals, some are in construction companies, some in the automobile companies, many are in the banking hall as tellers and many more in other companies.

Don’t I want to have a nice mansion, cars and other good things of life instead of pursing a “silly” dream?

Who doesn't?  But those things don’t last forever, ideas last forever. That’s why some people would say the world is ruled by dead people, cos it’s their ideas/ dreams that became realities that you and I now enjoy, use and /or practice.

What happens if I don’t get the $388,550?

Well, like 50 Cent, we will make this dream a reality one way or the other, or die trying…………….!!!

 by

Olulu, the King not from Zulu.

LETTER TO MY BELOVED by Pauldesimple

Dear beloved
I'm sorry to inform you that I had resolved
And arrived at the conclusion
To stop our distant communication
And put an end to our beautiful relationship
And glowing friendship

For I'm becoming insane

And can no longer bear the pain

Of traveling to your place

Before I see your face

Furthermore I'm tired of writing

And endlessly waiting

For days

Before hearing from you always

For whenever I pick my handset

To call your gadget

It's either switched off

Since power in you area is always off

Or out of service

The usual from our telecommunication companies

So I decide to do this

That we might have peace

Finally I'm coming to see your mother

And ask your father

For your hand in marriage

Because our love has come of age

And I can't give away

Whatever the pay

Thereby saying goodbye to a relationship

And welcoming companionship

But before I end this letter

I have a question that needs an urgent answer 

Baby

Will you marry me?

Your truly

And faithfully

by Pauldesimple

MY ORDEAL by Pauldesimple

My rehearsal before the mirror

Was concluded without an error

My lines were intact 

And my stage movements perfect

I was prepared to dazzle my audience

With a beautiful performance

At first, I was in charge

Taking my audience on a voyage

Into my world of rhymes

And mimes

And the look on every face

Shows that we were on the same phase

Then suddenly I missed a last word

A miss I could not afford

I saw my world falling

Even with the conditioner on, 

I was sweating

Going forward became impossible

Moving backward wasn't available

I was in the middle of nowhere

So I stopped there

Yet with this commotion

I received a standing ovation

But I went home infuriated

And defeated

by Pauldesimple

Poetry stalks me by Alice Keys MD

Poetry stalks me

in the midst of my afternoon

while I walk barefoot under a blue shell sky.

Birth pains of poetry are

higher up

than the guttural quakes that shoved

new miracles from the mouth of my womb.

Poetry harpoons me

when I lean down to pick

sharp grit from my heel.

It strikes

to the right of my breastbone,

stabs deep

to set the hook then

pulls me

into unbearably thin air.

I press

my hand to the wound

and gasp

while I wait for the light to change

at the corner.

by Alice Keys MD

http://alicekeysmd.wordpress.com/2013/01/04/poetry-stalks-me/

BOOK AND GUAGE 19 – AN AFTERNOON WITH CHIKA UNIGWE

BOOK AND GUAGE 19 – AN AFTERNOON WITH CHIKA UNIGWE

Pulpfaction Book Club presents the 19th edition of Book n’ Guage, a monthly literary event for lovers of literature and the arts at large. The featured writer for this month’s edition is Chika Unigwe, winner of the 2012 NLNG Prize for Literature, and internationally acclaimed author of Night Dancer, On Black Sister’s Street and The Phoenix.

In addition to a rich and engaging conversation with the featured writer, a general Q and A session, the event will equally feature a poetry reading session by Emmanuel Okoh, author of Garden and Caves, and music by Dtone Martins.

About the featured guests

Chika Unigwe was born in Enugu, Nigeria, and now lives in Turnhout, Belgium, with her husband and four children. She holds a BA in English Language and Literature from the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, and an MA from the Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium. She also holds a PhD from the University of Leiden, The Netherlands in 2004. Chika Unigwe is the author of fiction, poetry, articles and educational material. She won the 2003 BBC Short Story Competition for her story "Borrowed Smile", a Commonwealth Short Story Award for "Weathered Smiles" and a Flemish literary prize for "De Smaak van Sneeuw", her first short story written in Dutch. "The Secret", another of her short stories, was nominated for the 2004 Caine Prize. She was the recipient of a 2007 Unesco-Aschberg fellowship for creative writing, and of a 2009 Rockefeller Foundation fellowship for creative writing. Chika Unigwe's stories have been broadcast on BBC World Service, Radio Nigeria, and other Commonwealth Radio Stations. Her first novel, De Feniks, was published in Dutch by Meulenhoff / Manteau in September 2005. She has authored other novels including the prize-winning On Black Sister’s Street and most recently Night Dancer.

Dtone Martins is one of the new Nigerian singers to watch out for. His new singles “Sunkun Ife” and“Ife Gbagbara” have been attracting rave reviews. He has performed on stages with Nigerian musicians like Dj Zeez, M I, Banky, 2 face, 9ice, Sunny Ade, Femi Kuti and P-Square. Eyes closed, fingers strumming the guitar, sonorous voice tantalizing the audience, D Tone is always a delight to watch.

Emmanuel Uweru Okoh works have been published in NEXT, Saraba magazine, Sentinel Nigeria, Naijastories.com, ITCH magazine and Mad Hatters’ Review of Iceland. Emmanuel lives and works in Lagos, Nigeria. His poetry collection, Gardens and Caves, was published by SunBird Books, November 2012. 

As is the usual practice at the event, classic books will be auctioned to fastest-bidding attendees

Date: 26 January 2012

Venue: Debonairs Bookshop (Ground floor, 294 Herbert Macaulay Street, Yaba, Lagos).

Time: 2-5pm

For more information, please write pulpfactioner@gmail.com or call 07034170121. The Twitter hashtag for the event is #BooknGuage19

My neighbours are no more black......!!!!

My neighbours are no more black.

They used to be black back when I was 12.

Some ten years or more later.

They are now white.

No, they did not bleach.

It is just that they are now foreigners.

On the left of our house are the ones whose english I don't understand, so I believe they must be from somewhere in Europe.

To the right, I know not where they are from, but they always smell of spices.

Opposite us are the Americans, I know that because they curse a lot.

At the beginning of our street are those whom everyone in their continent look the same.

I asked my black neighbours, where are you? 

They say they are in another country.

I ask, why?

They said they are searching for greener pastures.

If my black neighbours left to search for greener pastures, pray tell, what do my white neighbours want here? :)

by Dupe Holloway 

WORD UP Volume 3 aka Da Love Thang this February 16, 2013

i2X Media 

presents

WORD UP Volume 3 aka Da Love Thang

WORD UP is the biggest Spoken Word Poetry event in Nigeria 

and it holds quarterly.

For this quarter, which is the love season, we will be having all the A-List Poets in Nigeria live on stage. 

They include Donna K, Efe Paul Azino, Plumbline, Olulu, Bob Ekat, Chiedu Ifeozo, Dolapo, Uche Uwadinachi, Atilola, Soonest, Increase, Enigmatic Olumide, Ndukwe Onuoha, Tofarati, Ivori, HolyBlaze, Arch Angel, Giwa Expensive, Chinelo Renee and many others.

Soul Music by: D Tone and Lumynos

We will also have Celebrities who will perform poetry on stage.

It will be an evening of pure poetic delight in words and sound.

Venue is Lecture Theatre, UNILAG Guest House, Akoka, Lagos

Date is 16th of February 2013 

Time is 3pm to 6pm

Gate fee is

VIP= N5,000

Regular = N1,000

Student with ID card = N500

Stay tuned for more details.

Dear Nigerian in Diaspora by Atilola

Dear Nigerian in Diaspora,

Time and time again, you have justified your reason for leaving our fatherland. Or is it motherland? You said it is because you want to give your children a better life and opportunity than you had. We accepted your reason, as looking at the current state of our nation, we see every validity in your reason. And we did not trouble you or hassle you over that decision.

Just like we did not hassle you over this decision, we would like you to reciprocate this gesture by not hassling us over our decision to stay back.

Dear NID, I have noticed that the way you talk about issues pertaining to our country is far different from the way we here take it. Have you ever wondered why the tone of your comments about this country is far different from the tones of the Nigerians in Nigeria? Once there is a tragic event, you have a way of blowing it over the top, exaggerating, and wondering what our dear country is turning to. If only you reacted this way to every good thing that happened in our country, maybe the western world won’t always present a single story about us in their press.

Your comments of “I can never send my children to Nigeria on a holiday because they would either be robbed, kidnapped or used for rituals,” doesn’t really sound encouraging, especially as you have never suggested one solution to this problem we are facing. Please tell me, what percentage of the ones who came here during last holiday were subject to this cruel fate you imagine?

But Dear NID, I begin to wonder

Why are you always the ones to point out just how bad our country is to us, as if we are too blind to see it?

Why are you the ones that always hammer on the fact that we here are the stupidly religious ones? That we all follow our pastors like blind fools? Please, let the people that want to buy jets for their pastors do so. As you have tied your hope to the white man giving you a better life, they have also tied their hope to their pastors giving them miracles, since many of them would never have the opportunity to leave this side of the world. After all, they learnt it from the numerous pastors in America, who also bought private jets from money they got from televangelism and offerings too. Our pastors still have a long way to go when it comes to acquiring private jets.

Why are you always the first to mention how you don't see Nigeria ever getting better, how you lost hope in Nigeria a long time ago? We know about your lost hope, your exit already tells us that much.

Why are you the ones who dismiss songs of hope in Nigeria, such as Great Nation by Timi Dakolo, The Future is here by TY Bello, etc. as wishful thinking? Just because you have lost hope in our country doesn’t mean you should try to kill the hope of those left.

You have left, fine! Your children and grandchildren would probably never visit Nigeria in their life time, fine! We don’t have an issue with that, it’s your family, you can do whatever you like with them. You have said over and over again how you don’t care for Nigeria and her issues anymore. Yes, we get that. Since that is the case, we expect you to follow suit with your words, and really NOT care again, by forgetting that Nigeria exists in your dictionary. Or does the fact that you can’t stop talking and complaining about Nigeria despite the fact that you claim not to care really mean that your ‘care-less’ statements are not true? Selah

Dear NID, you should know that not all of us have the opportunity to leave like you, and even when some of us do, we just don't want to. We have chosen to stay. We were not forced to stay, we chose to. Live with your choice and let us live with ours.

Dear NID, even if you have stopped believing in Nigeria, and do not see yourself ever returning here, can you please stop asking us to do the same? Can you please, stop expecting us to stop hoping that we would get better, just because you stopped hoping? Cos unfortunately, some of us have nowhere else to go, and no matter how many people leave, some of us here still have to stay back, and make Nigeria good again.

Dear NID, you forget that when your family is bad, and you choose to run to another family because they are good, it won’t solve the problem of the ‘badness’ of your family. Your family will still be bad. Selah

Dear NID, why is it that whenever I ask you about the solution to this country you claim you do not care about, but can never stop talking about, you tell me the only solution is to split? Unity or splitting - which of the options would cost more? Are you ready to sacrifice the remaining family you left here to the unavoidable bloodshed that would happen if your splitting fantasies ever became a reality (no pun intended)? Wait no, you would move all of them out of the country and make them fellow NIDs like you - another fantasy that would never become a reality, thanks to the white man that would rather die than see that happen.

Nigeria is a big menace and it is like a time bomb waiting to explode, with the injustice, corruption, insecurities, and other negative nouns I would not even bother to mention, but rather leave for the political bloggers and writers to deal with. One thing we know is this, in no way would leaving the country ever solve all the migraine-generating problems of our country. But as we have said before, we don’t have any problem with the choice you made. After all, there is the fight or flight approach to be taken in any battle. You chose the flight, while we chose the former.

It is okay that you have decided to have as little as possible to do with us, but please, live and let live. Don’t tell me to shut up when I say something good can still come out of Nigeria – I will still say it. Don’t try to take away the hope we have left with your comments of how failed and hopeless we are. Hoping in this k-leg country of ours is very difficult, and we should be encouraged and commended for doing so. In the face of the unexplainable nonsense our leaders put us through in this country, our hope is honestly the only thing we have. Take that away from us, and we had better started committing suicide because a hopeless person is a walking-dead.

And if you are a NID because your parents stole our commonwealth, sent you out to have a better life, and you in turn, pay us back by trying to kill our spirit with your hope-sucking statements, thereby making me spend time to write this letter which would most likely generate comments I would rather not deal with my way, well… since I have no power to do anything to you, I leave you for God to judge. That is not because I am meek like Moses, it is because I really have no power to do anything to you – at least, for now.

Dear NID, in spite of all the nonsense happening in every sector of the country, you can call me deluded, but I still say Nigeria has a great future. Okay, I said it come and flog me. Oh I forgot, you would have to come down to Nigeria to do that.

Dear NID, I think I should stop here for now, as I strongly suspect that I am beginning to ramble.

Yours sincerely,

Nigerian in Nigeria

Atilola Moronfolu

Are you a princess? For your skin is so flawless.... (Spoken Word Piece by Olulu)

Are you a princess?

For your skin is so flawless

Is your name Natasha?

Like the princess I met in Kinshasa.

Can I call you Patricia?

Or you preferred to be called Felicia?

You are as sexy as Rihanna,

and so lovely like Princess Diana.

You have such wonderful, wonderful boobs,

Boobs that makes me go "oops."

You have a well rounded Bakassi,

makes me high like Bacardi 

You are exciting,

Tantalizing

scintillating

and interesting.

I know this might sound too soon,

But would you be my boo?

Be my lover and my friend,

and I swear  our love would know no end.

For as long as you are loyal,

I will treat you royal.

Let’s go to the hotel Casablanca,

and sip on Tequila

You will show me the Salsa,

And i will teach you the Makossa,

on the beach of Mombassa.

We will dance nakedly naked,

Till we are tiredly tired.

And all night long,

We would create our own love song.

By

Olulu, 

the King not from Zulu

Olulu on stage at Taruwa, Bogobiri House, April 12, 2011.

Paradox Of A Poet by Afroxyz.

You don't need a voice

to be heard.

Or an ear to hear

the still small voice.

Your vision is not

an offspring of your eyes

Or your path,

the reward of having legs.

The taste of defeat,

does not perch on the tongue

Or the smell of money

yield to the nose.

You may be so poor,

That all you have is money.

Yet you are free,

But caged by society.

The gate to salvation,

Is not opened by religion.

Just as facial beauty

Should not be taken at face value.

The devil would never meet you,

Dressed in black overalls.

He is afterall,

An angel of light.

Truth is sometimes protected,

With a bodyguard of lies.

The dance of the water spirits,

Is not an invitation to party.

The ocean cannot quench

The thirst of the soul,

Even the appetite of a glutton,

Cannot match the lust for a woman.

The nakedness of beauty,

Is veiled with clothes.

So is the nakedness,

Of evil.

The deepest wounds,

Shed no blood.

And orange juice,

Is not Agbala's libation

by Afroxyz:

CHILL and RELAX - January Freshness

Chill and Relax : January Freshness

This is a monthly open mic 

Performance Poetry and Spoken Word event, 

where anyone and everyone is free to display their poetic prowess 

with no inhibition. 

Date is January 13, 2013 

(2nd Sunday of the month)

Time is from 

3pm

Venue is 16,  Abeni close,  ASA Estate, off Ayodele Okeowo street, after Deeper Life church,

Soluyi Gbagada, Lagos

Featuring Naija's finest Poets.

Why You Should Stay Away From Poets by Alice Keys MD

You should stay away from poets. Far away. Poetry is a contagious, untreatable virus which is transmitted through the eyes and ears, directly to the heart. Even stuffing your ears with cotton and poking out both eyes won’t kill poetry, once contracted. There is no cure. 

One can, however, confer immunity to poetry. This works best with children. Poetry classes taught from volumes thick with chapters on syllable counting and meter, punctuation and rhyme can make the most poetically vulnerable, resistant. This works best administered after lunch while seated on hard wooden chairs in an over-heated room. Distractions from the natural world must be blocked by concrete walls, fluorescent hums and window shades.

There should be signs on the doors of the houses of poets. “Poet here”. “Keep away”. “Danger”. Poets should be forced to wear warning tags stitched to the fronts of their jackets so people will know to keep their children at a safe distance.

Poets are notorious for feeling and then writing the truth. This is another reason they should be ostracized and bound. They have no limits to what they’ll drag out into the light. They may fool you by beginning with bird songs or snowmen or a kelp-scented breeze. But beware. Poets sprout razors. They cut deep in the belly and tear open hearts.

Contracting poetry poisons one away from useful endeavors, like writing cell phone apps so children can practice killing at bus stops. Those who tear feathers by the handful from the bodies of half-live chickens at the processing plant are more valued than poets. They’re paid. They have jobs.

If you become infected with poetry and are find yourself inking couplets on the corners of napkins over breakfast, don’t quit your graveyard shift job unpacking truckloads of cheap Chinese junk. Keep flipping burgers. When one says “starving artist”, the poet does not even make it up onto this lowest of rungs on the socioeconomic ladder. At least a “starving artist” has that quirky patina people revere from a distance. Jazz musicians and landscape painters rate the secret awe normally reserved for yogis that meditate bare-bottomed in the snow. Poets don’t.

If you’re asked what you do and you reply “write poetry”, the questioner will go silent, blue then ask again. “No really. I meant, what do you do?”

It makes no sense for me to feel so good to be infected by poetry. The making of poems earns no money. Even family members sigh from having to live around me. They want dinner and attention, not clever words or insights into the horrors of our modern culture. My poor children. My sainted husband. My lost friends.

When you hang out with poets, you rub the folding corners of your arms with those who are too busy listening and watching, feeling and writing to notice the jab of your elbows.

by Alice Keys MD


http://alicekeysmd.wordpress.com/2013/01/06/why-you-should-stay-away-from-poets/