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week of September 10-16, 2012



T.L. Stokes and Agholor Leonard Obiaderi


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T.L. Stokes
floodwaterphotography@gmail.com

Bio (auto)

T.L. Stokes grew up on a small fox-shaped island in the Puget Sound. After school she migrated to the Snoqualmie Valley in Washington state and ever since has lived up and down the Snoqualmie River in various small towns. Now she's usually on a large farm a short ways from Fall City, a town with one street, one gun shop, one market, and two gas stations. Previoiusly Stokes has appeared in Ancient Wind Press, Comrades Press, Little Brown Poetry, Ludlow Press, The Gin Bender Review, Pierian Springs, The 2River View, Stirring - A Literary Magazine, Circle Magazine, Words on Walls, Snow Monkey by Ravena Press, Compassionately Stoneground Books, and others.


The following work is Copyright © 2012, and owned by T.L. Stokes and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


Dr. James Orbinski

A boy of man, skinny and definitive, stands talking with some people. He could be
your son. If you watch his eyes they become larger, and you can fall into
the things he’s seen. I watched the stories come alive and somehow he made
friends with the nightmares and when he opens his mouth, all the victims
of genocide have a voice. The woman lay bleeding to death from places where
her breasts used to be, her ears were gone, a man’s seed splashed on her thighs.
Stripes from the machete were like a broken sun across her face. The doctor,
began to stitch up what he could and pulled a little too tightly on her skin, and
she reached out gently touching his arm. He looked at her and saw she
was a woman, her wounds, and he turns his face slightly to the right
as the camera keeps shooting, his eyes go there, that far off look,
into the innocence of a memory that continues to burn him.



Agholor Leonard Obiaderi
POTW@poetrysuperhighway.com

Bio (auto)

Agholor Leonard Obiaderi holds a Bachelor's degree in the English Language.He teaches in a secondary school in Delta State, Nigeria but also finds time for his hobbies which include writing poetry and reading crime novels. His poems have been published in UptheStairCase Quarterly; Barnwood International Magazine; and Shortstory Library.

The following work is Copyright © 2012, and owned by Agholor Leonard Obiaderi and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.


Slipping Into Night

Your forehead is sculptured
into ridges, eyebrows
converge in wings
like a bird. Your face

pictures you trying hard to
recall how your moon transformed
into eight phases of fog.

Monday;
you punched my ribs. I only
came to collect the garbage.
Nowadays, you forget even
your own instructions.

Tuesday;
the cleaning woman departs,
a washrag of tears. She is
your fifth in a year. I cannot
rescue you from these darkened
craters
when your eclipse descends.

Wednesday;
your neighbours explain to
the cops why we both have
round foreheads and high cheek-bones.
I am your name you
no longer remember.

Thursday;
dusk blossoms into
its phase of blood again. You
recall my face briefly then
mirrors veil your eyes.

Friday;
grows a forked tongue. I am
torn between finding a refuge
for you and leaving
you in the grey
place
where you no longer remember
my name.