Two poems | by Pat Ashinze


Echoes of nostalgia

Memories of sweeter yesteryears

Scenery of lustrously groovy nights;

All gone, all done for

Like wind dispersing chaff


Apparitions of regret

Specters of repugnant guilt

Climb like crag panthers upon our

wasted shoulders;

Shoulders that once tore feral

beasts apart

Shoulders that once gave warmth

to keen dames

Shoulders that once nursed living sons


See how entangled we are in our

abstract uncertainty

Over the nibbling things that have befallen us

Things so great we cannot weep but laugh

For Darkness and Death have

recreated our home,

Our ancestral dwelling, into

something squalid –

The sort that sends quivers down

the spine of Angels;

A cursed land, where skulls are

mined like gold;-

Hardly shy from being called a Grave


We can only pray in hope and faith;

Till God turns His just eyes on our soreness

Till He forgives the countless sins of our forefathers

Who killed His prophets and obscured His truth

Till then, if it be so, we shall brook on,

Adrift in God’s infernal cruelty.



duelled over like a sonsy maiden i depart the wild of the uterus as the rarity of maternal fruitions. in the heat of my mother’s wails i bend the norms of delivery as a song of pains and passions as a sea of frailness and strength; a being of terrible contradictions; I am the breech. I am Ige Adubi; The vanguard of earthly births


I am Pat Ashinze, the smith of the Noblemanscrolls. I am a 4th year medical student at the University of Ilorin. Writing is therapeutic to me. It is only way I can talk without being interrupted.

I love collecting strange-looking stones and coins. I am thrilled by weirdness and uncertainties.






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