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Clement Abayomi

Winner

Inaugural Bridgette James Poetry Competition

2024

These Feet Are Not Too Feeble to Fly

COPYRIGHTED, Clement Abayomi

A memory of being mauls
my movement & thaws
out sprouting sinews.

Streaks of searing self-doubt . . .
unforgiving introspections
boil[ing] the blood in my veins.

I'm weary from dreary pasts—
longing to pall a pervious
soil of promising verdure
I gaze at the relics of
decomposing leaves.

I've anchored a long
siege of torments. I begin
to torture my tongue with
prayerful syllables to
silence mocking mouths.

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The Library of Lost Memories

 by Augusta Augustus.

I've never seen eyes as vacant as mine. Rose called them, The dead pools. It was the first thing she noticed when she saw me.

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If someone has any respect for you as an Igbo, he would automatically add more to it once you mention that you are from Abiriba.

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Winning Entry (Episodic.)

The courtroom was filled with the judge, jury, lawyers, my sister, and her husband.

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Sojourner, you must set out alone

On your journey down

The passage of life, rid self of

Company pointing you all

Dogs' duels,

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I am a Peregrine Falcon, the sky my canvas.

I dive, I soar, a master of the heavens.

Beneath me, the city unfurls, a mosaic of motion.

Cars and people stream like ants,

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Penuella Okwu

Runner-up

The Winter Flash Fiction Competiton

     Eloise would not have asked to wake up in a way any better than this. The sun is rising but she wasn't going to stand up, not now. She closes her eyes, allowing the happenings of last night to fill her mind and soul once again, or maybe forever.

    Andrew. They had broken up since college graduation, but Eloise wasn't going to walk away from this man who had claimed her body and soul.

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Photography - Kumbakani Chawinga.

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Trycent Milimo.

On it was the empty cream-white papier-mâché

I visualized fruits resting on a centrepiece:

apples, bananas, or pineapples.

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Ajayi Oluswasegun Samson

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Adésẹwà mi!

You are the glowing moon among the crowd of stars.

My digits crave clutching the silky softness of your caramel skin: 

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Why We Must Write 

By Gary Bryant. USA.

    I suppose individual writers would offer various reasons for why they must write. I have my own.

Characters and their stories have constantly churned in my brain since elementary school, living their lives and creating their story paths inside my head.

 

   My cousin and I created elaborate stories that we turned into movies using an 8MM camera until we went our separate ways to college. We chose separate paths for our created expression. He now works in the movie industry in Hollywood. I turned to writing books.

 

   Through college, I wrote short stories for creative writing classes, then ceased writing fiction upon graduation from college. For 35 years, I wrote no fiction whatsoever.

 

   However, the writing didn’t stop in my head. Even when I wasn’t writing, I considered myself a writer. The stories nagged at me, wanting to find their way into the world. Finally, a few years ago, I began to write fiction again.

 

   I forgot how therapeutic writing is. When I write, my mind entirely focuses on the story I’m pouring out through my keyboard. I forget the outside world. The story is my world. Its problems are my problems, all solvable through the strokes of my keyboard. It’s an especially excellent de-stressor to write at the end of the day to dissolve away other issues that come from real life.

 

   Secondly, I write to share my stories with others. I believe each of us is blessed with some innate talent that allows us to enhance mankind in some small or sometimes greater way. For me, I like to think my storytelling ability contributes positively to my fellow man. My characters and story are constructed in a way that hopefully inspires others either as a desire to emulate a character’s behavior or in the revelation of redemption for past mistakes.

 

   Admittedly, the third reason I write is for acknowledgement. Any creator of art truthfully wants to know that others appreciate his or her work. It brings great satisfaction to see positive reviews of your work, or for that matter, just have a reader give you a compliment in person. As writers, we live to have others appreciate our work and give it validation.

 

   Perhaps the most important reason of all is the pure enjoyment we receive. My writing style is that of a pantser. I know the ending of my story when I begin, though it is subject to change, but how I will get there is a relative unknown. Each story I write is a new adventure. I create characters with little idea of which way they will go or what they will do. I don’t know who they will meet along the way. I am like the reader finding new twists and turns as I go. Nothing beats a good story!

Gary W. Bryant is the author of the novels: Ace of Hearts  and Things Aren't What They Seem. He has worked as a newspaper reporter, editor, and magazine editor-in-chief, communications director for the Kentucky Retail Federation. He founded a small publishing company that produced marketing and training newsletters.

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