The fourth addition to the BLVCK series, titled BLVCK Voices,

A collaboration with 14 African writers, who demand for their voices to be heard in the mist of all the silence.

So kindly lend an ear and Listen to the Voices.

BLVCK Voices PDF

BLVCK Voices eBOOK

#JadedWords #BLVCKvoices

She grew up with no money
Her priority was to ensure I had more to start off with
Since we were both new to this,
we made the perfect partners
She knew little about parenting but a lot about hardship
I had just learnt to cry,
little did I know I should have saved the tears for our relationship
Side by side yet so far apart
My mother died the day I arrived
Her soul discarded but her body still animated,
A soulless vessel

She signed more pay cheques than birthday cards
Received more promotions than I had award ceremonies

Mother made sure we had a roof over our heads
Enough walls between us to separate us from one another and her zinc house upbringing
The silence echoed on the walls gracefully,
whenever her voice wasn’t bouncing around during business calls
Ever so often she remembered her roommate
and quickly reminded me
All she did was for me
After all, our longest conversations involved my school fees
I suppose being poor in love, was better than having no money

 

Jade Novelist ©️ 2017
#PoetryAgainstPoverty

Father knew wealth.
Of all his brothers he was the only one with a job.
So when he said he wished to pursue a dream,
It was only logical the only currency he would swim in would be poverty.
He said it was in his soul to play.
So he put down his axe to focus on the sax.
Trading “ching ching” sounds to hear vocal notes
Even though our lives were caving in, he sought solace in women with high octaves
From night shift, to night shows
Less food to eat, but had his fill of bottles
and even though mom was a schemer she was intrenched in her place
She was the head settler and mastered the art of settling
Settling for leaking roofs,
an uneducated daughter
and blue eyes for make up whenever father found liquid courage

Father was a generous man, quick to dish out beatings,
Word play was his forte, new insults came easily
He gave much but what he shared most was his inheritance
Grandfather died in debt, father passed the torch
So now I run the race
Jumping hurdles hoping to fall into money
Competing against opponents from different backgrounds
Trying to think of ways to run faster
Hoping that one day, I might cross the finish line.

 

Jade Novelist ©️ 2017
#PoetryAgainstPoverty