arinze ndieli is a Nigerian photographer. He is passionate about documenting muffled stories of the African with his visual art. Writing from Kaduna, or whichever place he finds himself, his creative juices tends to paint the spontaneity of his imagination, humanity & justice, truth and emotions, in different ways, bringing as much healing to as much wounds crying for balm.
In the heat wave we offer bright little hostages, reflections of a necessary light, your broken violin, moonlight after rain.
Next month we:
Submission guidelines can be found here.
not so smooth
bright little hostages
There are rooms whose walls hold secrets
not in the sense of
matters of state or
celebratory plans but
the way you treated us.
I drive past that pretty little house
now and then. I don’t know
the current residents. I don’t think
they know anything. I don’t think
anyone does, really, but I know
there’s still writing
under the coats of primer
I painted for you.
There’s broken glass
in the soil
under the lawn.
Sometimes, I can even smell the beer
and see your rage, your grief
and your bright little hostages
and their tired eyes
twinkling back at me
reflections of a necessary light
I used to carry.
Journey Zephyr specializes in documentary filmmaking; he recently directed “MEAT ME HALFWAY” (2021)—a documentary that explores the urgent and multi-faceted movement to end factory farming. Self-taught, Journey’s longstanding study of theater, film, global history, politics, and activism motivate him to creatively integrate those fields in order to foster conversations that promote and instigate environmental and social consciousness.
the golden stones
for so long, you’ve saved your kiss for a gravestone
i knew your body’s map/ enough to blindly throw myself
trusting it’ll land safely in a lake/ a body
of water for drowning/ the things that tusks/
a suicide note /from the cliff
of my tongue /to unfold on my mother’s lap/ in the dark/
i placed my ears on your chest /& heard your heartbeats
as footfalls of exiled ideas/ it was after that long walk
back from burying your broken violin /whose strings
your father’s pliers bit apart/ but your veins bled, staining
his teeth/ i stood there, playing /a helpless witness
in a script/ i wanted to be a hero/ that evening/
i remember your body cold /against mine
your head on my shoulder/ i’d later realize/
was the mold for the headstone /of your dead dream
i’ve beaten my forehead/ into the shape of an ode
to what it cannot have/ meaning, i have hit & hit
the walls in my room /with this part of me
aching with a longing/ to mirror yours /to bear
the brand of your lips/ and not just the stain
of your lipstick that’ll wash away/ in the shower
it’s our eight date tonight/ & i soften my lips
in the petrichor/ & moonlight after rain/ i draw them to yours
only red /only ripe with a longing/ for the gravestone
of a man/ whose name you overwrite /with ‘trauma’
in an invisible ink
Martins Deep (he/him) is a 27-year-old Nigerian poet, photographer/artist, & currently a student of Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. His most recent work has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Lolwe, FIYAH, 20.35 Africa, Brittle Paper, Rough Cut Press, Barren Magazine, Eunoia Review, Agbowó Magazine, Rogue Agent, & elsewhere. He tweets @martinsdeep1
i will not forget
“I’ve been making photographs for more than 20 years. I have shot commissioned portraits, events, episodic video stills, interior design, architecture, and botanical rarities for scientific texts. This in addition to my own personal everyday wonder at the glory and misery that is our existence. I am compelled to photograph what catches my eye and my attention. Design, history, and intent inform my pictures to capture an instant of eloquence in balance, form, depth, and color. To look and to see.”