Harry Oludare Garuba
Harry and The Boys
Yes. All my names are stretched out here in this byline – much “like a patient etherised upon the table” as T.S. Eliot would have it. “Etherised” – in this case, not because I am … Read the whole text
Yes. All my names are stretched out here in this byline – much “like a patient etherised upon the table” as T.S. Eliot would have it. “Etherised” – in this case, not because I am … Read the whole text
(for Harry Garuba )
there is a bitter weal
well beyond tears
lodged like blood clots
… Read the whole text
Prologue: Chanting What is Lost
After his first collection of poems, Shadow and Dream and Other Poems (1982), it took the reluctant poet, Harry Garuba, another thirty-five years to … Read the whole text
Wẹ́lẹ́ wẹ́lẹ́ l’òjò alẹ́ ò
Wẹ́lẹ́ wẹ́lẹ́ l’òjò
Wẹ́lẹ́ wẹ́lẹ́ l’òjò ńrọ̀
Wẹ́lẹ́ wẹ́lẹ́ l’òjò
Gently falls the tears of the orphan
Rolling down the cicatrized cheeks
Gently, achingly
Gently drums the smile … Read the whole text
Harry was just 61 when he passed away, which is my current age, and like all those lucky enough to have known him I acutely feel his loss. Over the … Read the whole text
As a young man and throughout his eventful life, Harry Garuba was a quietly charismatic figure who formed relationships with many life-long friends and with people who were oftentimes more colourful than he was.
In the bloom … Read the whole text
24 hours of kisses, a gallon of rum,
and les Brésiliennes are almost divinities—
never undone or outdone.
They are unceasing beauties—
each caramel miracle,
each coup of copper & pepper….
Steeped, walnut cinnamon is she—… Read the whole text
(Scholar-Poet, Amatoritsero Ede, in conversation with Yejide Kilanko, Novelist and Short story writer)
Amatoritsero Ede: We have been meaning to have this conversation for a long while now. I think this is as … Read the whole text
I tip-toed into the bathroom and made sure not to turn on the light in the hall. I didn’t want my parents to become suspicious. I had visited the bathroom several times that evening, and … Read the whole text
The summer after I finished grade eleven, I moved back to London to escape my life. I lived there with an Italian girl named Gina Pezzi, inspired initially, in my melodramatic phase, by Friedrich Holderlin, … Read the whole text