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 </div><p></p>A Zoology student of the Nnamdi Azikiwe University (UNIZIK), Awka, Izuchukwu Saviour Otubelu, is the winner of the <a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/call-submissions-brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2017-march/" target="_blank">March 2017 edition</a> of the monthly Words Rhymes &; Rhythm backed BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST (BPPC).
<blockquote><p>Otubelu’s poem ‘PREACHER, PREACHER’ was declared winner by the judges out of almost a hundred and fifty (150) entries received. It edged ‘SCENTS FROM DOWNTOWN’ by Oladipupo Solomon and ‘RUDU (CONFUSION)’ by Mustapha Gimba to first and second runner-up positions respectively.</p>
<p><a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-2017-%E2%80%98IZUCHUKWU-SAVIOUR-OTUBELU-EMERGES-MARCH-WINNER-1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-large wp-image-4870" src="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-2017-%E2%80%98IZUCHUKWU-SAVIOUR-OTUBELU-EMERGES-MARCH-WINNER-1-1024x1024.jpg" alt="BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST - 2017 ‘IZUCHUKWU SAVIOUR OTUBELU EMERGES MARCH WINNER (1)" width="702" height="702" loading="lazy"></a></p>
<p>This is his second victory in the contest. He was the <a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/izuchukwu-wins-bppc-september-2016/" target="_blank">winner in the September 2016 edition</a> and was first runner-up three times in <a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2016-ogedengbe-tolulope-impacts-change-is-here-wins-june-edition/" target="_blank">June</a>, <a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2016-unns-valentine-mbagu-wins-bppc-july-with-a-united-africa-poem/" target="_blank">July</a> and <a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2016-lautechs-adams-adeosun-wins-bppc-august-with-the-poetry-of-a-woman/" target="_blank">August, </a>2016.</p></blockquote>
<p>The month’s theme was ‘CONFUSION: THE NEW WORLD (DIS)ORDER?’</p>
<p>Below are the TOP TEN poems:</p>
<ol>
<li>PREACHER, PREACHER by Izuchukwu Saviour Otubelu</li>
<li>SCENTS FROM DOWNTOWN by Oladipupo Solomon</li>
<li>RUDU (CONFUSION) by Mustapha Gimba</li>
<li>SLEEPING DOGS by Otubelu, Chinazom Chukwudi</li>
<li>BURNT BOATS by Gaius Isuwa</li>
<li>THE THINGS I KEEP REMEMBERING by Adedayo Adeyemi Agarau</li>
<li>SCARS by Dennis Felix</li>
<li>SEIZED by Agbaakin O. Jeremiah</li>
<li>PAINTER OF BLOOD by Hussani Abdulrahim</li>
<li>NEW WORLD (DIS)ORDER by Kolawole Samuel Adebayo</li>
</ol>
<p><strong>PREACHER, PREACHER<em> by Izuchukwu Saviour Otubelu</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>Preacher, preacher, which way does the wind blow?<br>
The cocks have ceased to crow; the rivers have ceased to flow<br>
I am a freeman with fetters around my feet<br>
Enslaved to the fast-paced tempo of your heartbeat</p>
<p>Preacher, preacher, I am a blind man groping in the dark<br>
I am a castrated dog that has lost the strength to bark<br>
You steer the rudder; I float atop your boat<br>
Your words have sharp blades that slit my tender throat</p>
<p>Preacher, preacher, I stack your barn with yams and grains<br>
But my thatched mud-house lies stark naked in the rain<br>
You spin a web of false truths upon the path I tread<br>
I am an old man with no grey hairs on my head</p>
<p>Preacher, preacher, sweat seeps through the pores of power<br>
That lie in lifeless bones buried in a cave in Zamfara<br>
Matchet strokes have reduced men to ashes and dust and smoke<br>
Religion is a naked sun that wears a black cloak</p>
<p>Preacher, preacher, you said religion is the way forward<br>
Yet you taught my hands to wield spears and unsheathe swords<br>
Tears trickled down my grandmother’s swollen eyes<br>
When she saw Chike’s blood smeared across the face of the sky</p>
<p>Preacher, preacher, which way does the wind blow?<br>
The cocks have ceased to crow; the rivers have ceased to flow<br>
I am a freeman with fetters around my feet<br>
Enslaved to the fast-paced tempo of your heartbeat</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>SCENTS FROM DOWNTOWN<em> by Oladipupo Solomon</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>In a street downtown,<br>
The smouldering voice of a young boy<br>
Rises above the drones of a burning city<br>
He is a phantom long abandoned<br>
Along the city’s broken boulevards<br>
Mama is an old wick, much too old to ignite<br>
Yet they say the currency is sinking under heavyweights</p>
<p>In a street downtown,<br>
There are flames in the soul of a little girl<br>
Burns from the pangs of armed men<br>
Who sold their hearts for the peeling walls of a petite city<br>
Chibok is a lame girl searching for home, for comfort<br>
Aleppo is an unclad boy lost in the rubble of an old souk<br>
Oloibiri flows with milk and honey—sour and dry!</p>
<p>In a street downtown,<br>
Young women wear night blindness on punctured pupils<br>
As they measure the city’s length in pitiful parades<br>
Young men bear arms, rewriting their destinies<br>
On the pages of a broken slate</p>
<p>In a street downtown,<br>
The heart of a poet sinks in deep solitude<br>
Into old Titanic’s sprawling floors</p>
<p>How do we construct a future<br>
From the dew of a fading past, of a fading present?<br>
Who shall put off these unfettered flames?<br>
Peeping from yesterday’s embers, from today’s ashes<br>
So we could build a better tomorrow?</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>RUDU (CONFUSION) <em>by Mustapha Gimba</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>I prayed for the day to come<br>
When the crowd will gather<br>
And cheer for me</p>
<p>I waited for that day— and it came<br>
Like a gust of wind<br>
On a market square</p>
<p>On that day<br>
It was a fifty naira affair<br>
The crowd cheered<br>
Only to the amusement<br>
Of my battered face<br>
In ruthless course for my change</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>SLEEPING DOGS<em> by Otubelu, Chinazom Chukwudi </em></strong></p>
<p><em>(A VILLANELLE)</em></p>
<blockquote><p>Arise from thy beds, sleeping dogs of woe<br>
For thither waters wither the morn dew<br>
Beyond vast valleys that bald beggars go</p>
<p>Mad goes that fast horse; trouble tells its foe<br>
Tongues twinkle like stars, yet birds sing forth few<br>
Arise from thy beds, sleeping dogs of woe</p>
<p>What land is this that lore tales mumble so;<br>
Where glowing smoke laughs whilst cooks stir sour stew<br>
Beyond vast valleys that bald beggars go</p>
<p>We thirst unfilled before thy fountain’s flow<br>
As days birth rays, our broken bones to hew<br>
Arise from thy beds, sleeping dogs of woe</p>
<p>Thy sword slays the brave flute that dares to blow<br>
The face of thy sky that race far from blue<br>
Beyond vast valleys that bald beggars go</p>
<p>Like wild winter, you throw thy icy snow<br>
To boo yon wives that our eyes pray to woo<br>
Arise from thy beds, sleeping dogs of woe<br>
Beyond vast valleys that bald beggars go</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>BURNT BOATS<em> by Gaius Isuwa</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>this swinging sounds of blames<br>
echoing far away from the shallow<br>
depth of our carefulness</p>
<p>this dirge that pierces our ears<br>
with the sharp fang of regrets<br>
as we celebrate sadness<br>
from the shallow depth of our carefulness</p>
<p>are we not the ones?<br>
the ones that left our fuel<br>
at the hands of a match lit?<br>
swallowing our joy and love</p>
<p>how do we then, crossover?<br>
when our boats are burnt<br>
how do we then, crossover?<br>
with burnt boats?</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>THE THINGS I KEEP REMEMBERING<em> by Adedayo Adeyemi Agarau </em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>the things i keep remembering<br>
is that, we burn the world, from here,<br>
with our smell of smoke, like incenses<br>
cutting corners to find a room in the clouds<br>
we make songs a little more than a collection of notes<br>
sometimes, it is how we say a prayer for my brother<br>
&; my mother &; the names of the boys that made ashes<br>
the remains of burnt bodies, other times, it is the way we mourn<br>
i try to squeeze my body in their coffins— the hearts of people<br>
crying for them, because people who are burnt in a room<br>
as they sleep do not fit in coffins, they are placed in a teacups —<br>
and i hear the echoes of their broken souls, like disjointed arms<br>
they are displaced from here, placed in a dream, stranded, made<br>
to live in a town that has no street.<br>
a boy woke us one dawn, with tears that reeked of terror<br>
&; terrible absence, we knew what every sigh meant<br>
they burnt his father and made him watch.<br>
he was seven. another body has been made steam floating to clouds<br>
it rained in Barnawa, that evening,<br>
we rushed into the fall to save water for our farms.<br>
the news says Barnawa is peaceful.</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>SCARS <em>by Dennis Felix</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>the dance begins in silence<br>
at the crossroads<br>
then spreads to the streets</p>
<p>as a reluctant dawn reaches out<br>
sprouts a hand<br>
of six blood-stained fingers</p>
<p>the red in a rainbow grows<br>
grows outrageously crimson</p>
<p>even as the sidewalk bleeds<br>
with the scars of a mutilated daybreak</p>
<p>taproots dig deep to drink desolation<br>
from the heart of a despoiled earth</p>
<p>the lacerations cut deep!<br>
the desecration is complete</p>
<p>mouthless<br>
the gory story tells itself…</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>SIEZED <em>by Agbaakin O. Jeremiah</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>In my city where-<br>
waste is the currency of wealth,<br>
we don’t ask if you’d mind<br>
a bowl of iyan, white as fright.</p>
<p>The maids ambush guests with dead meat<br>
resurrected in steaming ogbono soup,<br>
Nene shawled with parboiled Ugwu;</p>
<p>And let their lips flail in shock<br>
inside the ocean of iced Lacasera,<br>
too lost to say: eku alejo wa.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was some goblins<br>
giggling in the Gorilla Glass,<br>
that spelled my Android keyboard,<br>
creating an error: Nigerianers.</p>
<p>When writing, I asked my smart slave<br>
to type about a people cast in several spectra<br>
of tongues: broken as the sun shatters<br>
into splinters of rays before it touches earth.</p>
<p>But with a cyborg’s cold omniscience,<br>
she suffixed the prompt: Nigerian-ers:<br>
again I swiped the silk-smooth screen gently<br>
not to incense the mad goblins;<br>
the mockery peeled my pupil in a rite of fresh discovery:<br>
to see the invisible chains on the minds of gods.</p>
<p>The revelation was evident from the suffix itself:<br>
our servants inflect us into<br>
something to be bought,<br>
reduced to pieces of thumbs with kingdoms<br>
to be seized during elections.</p>
<p><em>1. Iyan-pounded yam</em><br>
<em>2. Ogbono- a local African soup</em><br>
<em>3. Ugwu- a vegetable.</em><br>
<em>4. Lacasera- A popular beverage drink.</em><br>
<em>5. Eku alejo wa- A Yoruba statement for “thanks for the hospitality”</em></p></blockquote>
<p><strong>PAINTER OF BLOOD<em> by Hussani Abdulrahim </em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>Learning to polish blood, our blood<br>
into stranded molecules etched on silt<br>
is the self-imposed ritual of the big man whose big tummy bounces like jelly.<br>
Just for his #10000 we turned the city into a conundrum of seething smoke<br>
flying hither, thither like stunned birds whom the sky can no longer contain.</p>
<p>The shouts of men and quaking hearts of children were the supposed<br>
tunes of arousal<br>
furnished by lustful gongs reaching for a waterfall.<br>
We the hell-makers- we’re bronze gods burning thickly like the sun<br>
shining chrome like the delirious joy a cattle-whisperer evokes in a lamb<br>
telling it that it’d grow into a handsome lion and death dripping from<br>
brown leaves and coconut air shall be wary.</p>
<p>But then, we the painters of madness-<br>
from where shall we arrest redemption when we’ve become clumsy stars<br>
in a failing galaxy?<br>
Of what profit betides this insanity<br>
when our gullible souls become flimsy cobwebs hanging from the ceiling of hell?<br>
Before we realized the magnitude of the incursion<br>
It wasn’t strangers we killed, destroyed or burnt<br>
but our fathers, mothers. Siblings, our abodes<br>
letting their blood drip like the pitti- patta of teary rain.</p>
<p>And when the turn of our season came again for carnage to be<br>
fertilized and grown like bahama grass<br>
peanuts was no longer the price but his son:<br>
“this time, let your only son lead us<br>
if we must die; we die together<br>
let thy blood be the worthy appeasement for thy dubious gain<br>
and our blood- libation for the sorrow-stricken earth<br>
a landmark for dawn’s tourists who’ll paint not with blood<br>
but the awesome peace of their curiosity.</p></blockquote>
<p><strong>NEW WORLD (DIS)ORDER <em>by Kolawole Samuel Adebayo</em></strong></p>
<blockquote><p>a TRUMPet is sounding in a distant land<br>
and we hear that some black skins<br>
are being raptured into a heaven<br>
of sun, and dust, and elephants.</p>
<p>they say that this heaven<br>
is the country home<br>
of men hewn from black stones.</p>
<p>intermission:<br>
i hope these skins will see<br>
that heaven is a land flowing with milk and honey.</p>
<p>i hear a man is building a wall<br>
and even the Pope cannot pray it down.<br>
they say he brags about his victory over a woman<br>
in a war of words that burned the world into mutters.</p>
<p>here in this part of heaven,<br>
our king drove himself into a holiday.<br>
his health is receding like how our money<br>
is swiftly walking the wide way of recession.</p>
<p>this is the way of the new world:<br>
a king casts others into waters of disorder,<br>
and we all don’t know what he’ll tomorrow order.</p>
<p>a governor is scurrying through deserts<br>
on a night of one thousand silences.<br>
no man must see him. our money<br>
is walking in shadows— stealth.</p>
<p>this disorder is the new world<br>
and we are all looking for salvation…</p></blockquote>
<p>Izuchukwu, who hails from Isiekwulu village in Ukpo, Dunukofia Local Government Area of Anambra State, also writes fiction and essays and has some of his works published on various platforms, including the Kalahari Review and Nigerian largest poetry sharing platform, Words, Rhymes &; Rhythm Poetry. He takes over from<a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2016-lautechs-adams-adeosun-wins-bppc-august-with-the-poetry-of-a-woman/"> </a><a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2017-oau-poet-emmanuel-faith-wins-february-edition/" target="_blank">February 2017 winner EMMANUEL FAITH</a> as the BPPC Champion.</p>
<blockquote>
<figure id="attachment_4869" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-4869" style="width: 702px" class="wp-caption aligncenter"><a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-2017-%E2%80%98IZUCHUKWU-SAVIOUR-OTUBELU-EMERGES-MARCH-WINNER-2.jpg"><img class="size-large wp-image-4869" src="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-2017-%E2%80%98IZUCHUKWU-SAVIOUR-OTUBELU-EMERGES-MARCH-WINNER-2-1024x502.jpg" alt="IZUCHUKWU SAVIOUR OTUBELU, winner of the BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST (BPPC) 2017 MARCH" width="702" height="344" loading="lazy"></a><figcaption id="caption-attachment-4869" class="wp-caption-text">IZUCHUKWU SAVIOUR OTUBELU, winner of the BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST (BPPC) 2017 MARCH</figcaption></figure></blockquote>
<p>He will be awarded the top prize of N7000 cash prize, certificate, and books. Other poems in the TOP 10 will be automatically entered for the ALBERT JUNGERS POETRY PRIZE (AJPP) 2017 and published in the BPPC 2017 anthology. Each poet will also receive a certificate and free copies of the anthology. The certificates and books will be awarded at the Words Rhymes &; Rhythm Literary Festival 2017.</p>
<blockquote><p>The <a href="http://wrr.ng/brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-bppc/" target="_blank">BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST (BPPC)</a>, a brainchild of Words Rhymes &; Rhythm (WRR), is a monthly writing contest aimed at rewarding the under-appreciated talent of young Nigerian poets. It was instituted in February 2015 in honor of Brigitte Poirson, a French poet and lecturer, editor, who has over the years worked assiduously to promote and support of African poetry. Now in its third season, and being one of the few credible contests, the BPPC has since grown to be one of country’s most popular, especially among the younger poets.</p>
<p><a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-BPPC-SEASON-III-2017-.jpg"><img class="size-large wp-image-4625 aligncenter" src="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/BRIGITTE-POIRSON-POETRY-CONTEST-BPPC-SEASON-III-2017--1024x475.jpg" alt="BRIGITTE POIRSON POETRY CONTEST (BPPC) SEASON III, 2017" width="702" height="326" loading="lazy"></a></p></blockquote>
<p> </p>
<p style="text-align: center;">NOTE: Submissions are being received for the APRIL 2017 edition on the theme: KNOWING SELF: THE MENTAL HEALTH SILENCE<br>
<strong><a href="http://wrr.ng/authorpedia/call-for-submissions-brigitte-poirson-poetry-contest-2017-april-the-mental-health-silence/" target="_blank">CLICK HERE TO ENTER YOUR POEM</a></strong></p>
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