EVENING SOLILOQUY ON THE BANKS OF RIVER FORCADOES - By Osokpor Tony

Written By: Osokpor Tony

Category: Poetry

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Osokpor Tony presents a profound piece titled "Evening Soliloquy on the Banks of River Forcadoes." This entry in the poetry category invites readers to delve into a rich tapestry of reflections and emotions. As Tony sits on the banks of River Forcadoes, the poem unfolds with vivid imagery and philosophical musings, offering a deep exploration of existence and nature.

About the Work

"Evening Soliloquy on the Banks of River Forcadoes" is a contemplative piece that weaves together themes of nature, existence, and introspection. The poem's mood is both serene and reflective, with a literary style that is richly descriptive and thought-provoking. Through powerful imagery, Tony captures the essence of the riverbank setting, inviting readers to ponder the complexities of life and the eternal connection between humanity and the natural world.

EVENING SOLILOQUY ON THE BANKS OF RIVER FORCADOES

Original Submission by Osokpor Tony

SUBMISSION: GLOBAL PEOTRY AND CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION

EVENING SOLILOQUY

ON THE

BANKS OF RIVER

FORCADOES

Poem by

MINDFORTE TONY OSOKPOR

1. THE ETERNAL VOICE OF ‘IS’

The Voice—

It’s without form or void

Not emitted hither from

The contraption of any cell-censored core

But freely floating essence

From no mechanized bio-field force

Untrapped in the breezes of chance

It manifests everywhere – the Voice of Him

Without depth nor form nor flesh nor being

Shallow-stamped-presence on thin air

Omnipresent without physical presence!

In every leafy motion in the solemn winds

Raindrops gathering in the invincible cloud reel

Visible only to sight, but varnishing to touch

Melting across the eager reaches beyond the senses

Into a universe of awe and of magnificence

Where trees, streams, release the rhythm

Of a beginning without cause or being

Revealing times that predates primal climes

And the tiny quantum cells that only interpret this

Hollow meanings of mortal insignificance

When I shut these ancient eyes of mine

To mock death in vibrant meditations

When light and time dies and drifts into inner space

When I succeed to alienate feelings and smell

As I draw the shutters of the mind to perception

But the external world remains stark

Shrouded in an unknown blandness

Still you remain there unblotted, uninhibited

Unsmothered in purity of awareness; the eternal “IS.”

2. THAT FIRST AND ORIGINAL VERSE

When Ptah—

That primordial and original Poet

Sounded the materials for imagination

From the depths of nothingness tumble forth

Into the mind of reach and perception

* “Let there be” —

* light, form and consciousness

The quintessential and authentic phrase

That gave birth to timeless luminous universe

Effulgent sparks and rays of verse

Emanating infinitely from infinite lips

Rebirthing innumerable forms into a fire

That has ceaselessly gone into endless creation.

He mounted onto fluid vapidity

That nothingness beyond mortal comprehension

As an amorphous platform to wrought

A spring board and the creative stage

To command the wooly yawn of outpouring guffaw

Like smoke, vapor, mist, dust into living sands

Fervor all in an endless sea of their abundance

In verse; that single line verse of “Let there be”

I discern poetry in true accomplishment

In everything a hidden beauty and

Splendor, far reaching than finite conceptions

I wonder, after these seas of trend

Washing against their brink-end

That globule of verse will yet stay re-integrated

Into other worlds; other existence —

That will form part of the undying

Spectra of our unanimous dreams?

3. TRUIMPH OF LIGHT

I behold light:

The light that dispels the void

Of pristine darkness and clout

The light that created form

In my senses and sights

The form that lends its meaning

The meaning that is now me

I found myself peeping

Into deeper caverns in the hills

Of Olympus as the clouds seem

To tumble and form into tumult-mountains

All around the senses of existence

Then I perceived the depths of light

Light that spelt the beginning

The beginning of infinite circles of abyss

Where Vulcan fires the forges

And the anvils hammer in thunders

Spewing balls of furnace into finite forms

Shango has transited from us!

Light and fire marking his entrails

Like a trail of the incandescent cord

In mutations in the divine hood

Where the beginnings gave birth

To the end; as I wait here…

For that ultimate passage

When earth-flesh falls asunder

And the inner streams are liberated

With the fluids of the shimmering Forcadoes

Like molten magmas of flames and volcanoes

As the breathe that is mortal life fades away

My breathe evaporates into the divine breezes

And traces its path back to zephyr’s drift

As it’s said all rivers runs finally into the sea

While the fires in my core melts as I fly

In gaseous mass into the depths that was the source

Of all procreative tides – is it death or rebirth?

4. TIME WASH

On your banks, Forcadoes, I tarry

Stayed by the pull of your inner waves

Their power over my will and thoughts

As I see them lash, then subsidence on the shores

Break their sensations over my nerves, as

They swell with the tides – turgid

The stars are brilliant tonight

In the ever-lopping night skies

As I watched on your banks

Anchored firmly at Bomadi

Observing the endless flow vanishing

Into the summit of distant horizon … submerging

Into the stars in faded haze

And I, in contrast with their glimmer

A tiny spark of cosmic wonder

Wandering with the course of the streams

Year after year – they tick with time!

With me, as I sit here, lost in nature

Fantasizing on existence and of phantoms

Will these stars I behold today

Glistening confidently, albeit coldly

Burst tomorrow and their chaotic permanence

Vanish into rupturing supernovas

And nothingness and silence

Fill this vibrant gifts of light?

Do they also see me?

As it seems I sit at the brink of life?

A mortal counting time with the restless

Wash of the symbolic waves and verdant hyacinths

Clouds, air, stars, mangrove summits and water

And self becomes one in deeper contemplation

5. LUNAR FANTASSIES

Tonight, I have elected to watch

Just your quaint face, lunar

Surfacing early from the waters

Of the cloud-streams – bedded

In calmer waves far off my gaze

I saw you, a baby-eyed slash

Of newborn sparks in the evening skies

Lean and benign, hardly visible – until …

Filling out slowly, becoming robust

To return night after night, your iridescence

As soft rays are received in brilliant essence

I observed your cycles of shy birth in the twilight

Floating in the iris of my eyes, an aura at late dusks

I too, aged; once a wandering infant

At the sandy shores of Forcadoes

Then, now a grown-up

On a dike under the expanse

Of the cosmos, watching the approach of dusk

Steeply perceiving the deep conflicts at the verge

Of time-change and of rolling existence

* Once a kid tossing a ball in innocence

Free of all cares, liberated of the weight

Of this surroundings about me today —

I run wild and excited with the rising dust

Of advancing storms and clouds in the hands

Of the vicissitudes of life … locked up

Dangers that must envelope all

At the close of the day of this life

Luna rays in moon play –

Life is either an insight or a waste

Passing through the mind of man

Whilst we sought interpretations that says

Night could be death like the darkness of dusk

Life is day … night … day … brightness and dawn

Of a dream turned twisted illusions in a wistful sleep

6. SEASONS

The Egrets came back in season

On the boughs of tall trees of the fields

Beyond the abundance of water, beyond caution

I’m waiting here too for you … white harbingers

Of peaceful-fading-wings of somnolence

In ether of mist … hallowed visitors

I scanned for the highest peaks

Rearing a weighty forearm to fly too

But leaded and impede against flight

And dare in the open free skies

Unlike the soaring colony of egrets

I, a sin-repressed-soul

That long and wallow in the netherworld

At the possibilities of your elevated world

Of fleeting sensations of ease and chance

Of flying symbols of the seasonal round

Calling into order a divine thrust

My fledging shoulders take up life

Fluttering nerves of frantic independence

Anticipatory of an eternal pull

Zealous to be caught up where

Its original existence should have begun

Until pressed down helplessly –

I stare in regret at the Egrets

Free flow, like the waves of these streams

Whilst trapped on a dike here beside me

Trapped within a mortal shell

On the ambient coast of the Forcadoes

7. IN CONSUMMATION

Note the Eagles —

Eyes boring hot holes in the skies

Of fiery ambers of vicious predatoriness

I strained to wrench my gaze

From these scenes of blatant hostilities

Streamlined for attack and anticipation

Hushed by fear and apprehension

Of flesh lusting after flesh and blood

The cold angst of natural carnivores

They held steadfast in the somber skies

To see eyes alert, grim talons drawn

Prowling for a chanced victim

As all the unsuspecting dangers

Of life bare their callousness and their fangs

I too - predator and prey

Victim and victor of existence’s strife

I sit still to feed my fancy

That oscillates in the excitement

Of cruel admiration of that unsparing Eagle

And I also identify with the hapless entity

Braced - mindless of this dreadfulness

This cycle where I too, I’m as helpless in consummation

Are the fishes asleep or they’re pretending to sleep

Within this beatific flow underneath me?

Or of a calm silver surface filled with hostile love

In this contrast projected by the serene

Sprawling expanse of the Forcadoes

8. REPREHENSION

My eyes press for clearer waters —

A hunger for clarity besets me in curiosity

For the depth of this idyllic beauty around me

Interred in a world stranger than real

Alas, the sights are not any different

The same deception - calm before dissonance

A deep drink of water —

Bath and tumble in suffusion

In a filmy world of fluid and ease

Floundering in almost-fin and lighter limbs

It is clear! Clear winter-wash shingles

Shimmering in their refractive receptions

Of sunlight and reflections of the sky’s clefts

Clouds in the captivation of their glorious azure allure

But an interference —

A raucousness muffled by the flow of fluids

A mute world of fins and belligerence

A quietude invaded by river conflicts

A calm suddenly penetrated by a raucous shoal

I behold their bloody nature of savagery

In interminable bloodlust for survival

Food and dominance in their “innocence”

Though I attempted a smile

To ease this nagging distraught

Yet, I cannot shake off recrimination

Not free of reprehension of these acts

Bestowed as standards for life to survive

Even by man in his elevated sense of etiquette

While we pride ourselves as of higher life

This legacy of bloodiness and cruel need for domination

Still sting my conscience in silent, suppressed rage

As we’re all bound in this endless food chain

9. VIEWS FROM BENEATH

And the Vultures –

Dirty specks of rags amongst the clouds

Unlike the Egrets, I viewed them from a distance

A tinge of distaste filled my guts

These sinister savages lack the decorum of honesty

In the raucous world of predatoriness

They came, muscled wings of distrust

Gliding talons of cool seething malice

In droves they came, scattered in the dull skies

But shredded of dignity

In their hungry search for carrion

The abandoned left-overs of the dying world

Of fleshy gore, fresh violence

Warm oozes that delights the rites of scavenging

Cooling off in the chilly bellies of these

Last-comers in this insane cycles of rebirth

These grisly undertakers, hooded

In the shame of their wanton employ

They maneuver frenetically in evil clothing

Of filth, around the unfeeling deadness of carcasses

Then perch on trees about my gaze and wonderment

Deigned to shy a little in mortified pauses

Until they muster courage and stepped out

In uncertain profile towards their odious goal

I shrugged off this spectacle

Another gory scene from my netherworld

Of black winged daemons tearing a path

Ripped rudely through my hollow vision

They drop off the violated heavens

Like ghosts-soot off the spurting chimneys

Of the forges of Hades

10. REFLECTIONS AND SELF-REALIZATION

Slow realization came

Sneaky in self-hypnotics

It was time for self-evaluation.

That sense of an Adam

Defining all within reach

The primordial instinct to exist

In sure intimations of pure essence

Purposeful and guided by delusions

As against a being previously lost

Bedraggled at your banks of waters

This being has finally emerged from dust

Of the beginning, I probe at the depth of self

Loosening stores of potentials to think

The powers to channel the cosmic mirrors inwards

In the reflections of self-revelations

I drifted into quaint reverie

Far off in an alien universe

Of thought, of sleek-quixotics

To grasps a totally extraneous interpretation

In these barren plains, safe for waters

And the views of endless tree-summits

It impelled me to self-consideration

Within the conflicts of all of my elements

Devoid completely of the depressive

Weights of care or concern

The skies, clouds, trees and stream

Becomes another meaning

Self-recedes into near oblivion

Feelings are reawakened, vibrant and burning

Denied of any will to intervene on visions

Consideration —

A churning exercise in my metamorphosis

I have become a god of my own desires

Goaded to perch on a thin membrane

On a strand of cosmic web

Aloof, I stand on this limp strand of self

A divine muse!

Vibrating on an aura of absurdities

An impatient bird, twitching

Flapping its tiny wings for flight and flurry

On a stray course, amused of my own folly

In my range of observation –

Projected images of mountain peaks

Of Elysian expanse of fresh verdure

Azure skies, winds that thrashes

Other birds of heaven like me

Travelling on the same lawns back home

And here … on these waves

On which I construe to dream

And rouse new images of beauty

On your clement shores, oh Forcadoes

I long to sustain my unceasing drift

Into these ethereal joys

Of personal delusions

11. WONDERINGS

On a flat dike

I fancy me a rocking dice

Played by hands of deities

From the corners of the horizons

The evergreens of the fields fill my awe

With the thickset peaks of mangroves

Gathering in far-flung reaches

Like pinnacles of little hillocks on Olympus

Simulating ranges of solemnity

I’m puzzled like a demi-god – pious

Imbued with aimless patience

I fade into the vastness of cosmos

And the hills and rivers around me

Like reeling objects sprawling into playthings

For gods, crowding my comprehension

Entities that stir the intellect

In motions devoid of self-perception

I perceive myself anxiously

A being of savvy amongst dead lives

Exhilaration of pleasure fills the valves

A god-state in divine pompous dignity

But a splutter of impatience

Stirs the fledged inner-wings

I longed to create in words and verses

Once again, in my imaginations of liberty

Rushing at me like a fleeting gypsy

Breeding birds in circum-cycles

That hunts the free spirit

In providential course of freedom

In each opportune endeavor

Of interior contemplations

For solitude that fills in flashes

Of nature’s awareness and illuminations

When all concealed lay bare before mirrors

That holds waters on your surface, oh Forcadoes

Before my restless inner eyes calmly

That poise in an inertia of rediscovery

It probes the waves beside me!

Still turbulent in their restless span

Frayed by zephyr’s fins of wider winds

Where all elements join in singularity

I believe their telepathic resonance

Are these cosmic vibrations

That always invigorates my being

12. PASSAGES

I have struck at the mysteries

Of immortality; of the rhythms emanating

From the bowels of their viscosity

These streams, these cloud adrift

Their silent romanticism lends a kind

Of life patterns of their own eulogy

Breathe cannot extol when

Even still burning with life, fires of living

Safe the unconscious pant of deadness

Interpreting another life of their stillness

For death may just be another form of life

I sort the real depths, and suddenly

Belied in the deadweights beyond

Mortal and conscious perceptions

Feeling deeper than the extrasensory

Are fires that never go out of the essence

Of what is left after physical life dies

Hollows of conceptions bore holes

Where Obatala births Shango’s archetypes

In the conceptual wombs of deities

And the spirit who in erratic wraiths

Shake the dust and dirt off the figment

Into beings in my flippant imagination

These molten thoughts do solidify

And the burdened magmas of hard doctrines

In our minds after erupting onto the crust of doubts

This is the volcano of formation that spills

Out eternal sensations in essential worship

From imagination to thoughts to ideas and into form

Into what I sit here, trying to grasps anxiously

Yet trailed only by endless generations, unending

These greys will fade

In one terminal grave

These dunes will dissolve

Within my wind-swept resolve

Yet I will come out alive, unscathed

13. DEIFICATION

I saw the Igbes come –

The Aladuras, the Celestials

The all-white-garments proliferations

In miniature Seraphims and Cherubims

Like stray spirits that have come to drink

Off your banks, Forcadoes

Pilgrims on a path to Heaven

Enacted on your shores, oh Focardoes

Here I discern a cosmic pattern at play

The metaphysical alliance of your aura

In the allure of serenity, solemnity

Is now vibrating, bouncing off the rays

Around your natural magnificence

Time takes form on your behest

This form that becomes eternal

This form that has become worship

A worship that evokes permanence

In me as I weigh in lighter weights

Mere man, introspecting on your quiet banks

Patiently, I am bound to sit long

Revived by that sudden realization

Of another inspiration budding in recreation

Growing on the stuck of my solitude

After self and awareness is put to the test

The undying inner will, will reveal itself today

To blunt my hunger for the mundane

My heart is unfurled in reverence of the endlessness

Of the ever-enduring affinity of space and life

Do the clouds truly hold a stream up there —

This flow of mist, fluid in calmer tides

Above my gaze, a mimicry of Forcadoes?

After their timeless lash at the crest

Of the boundaries of time – they complement

The Forcadoes in cosmos, where Angels

Also bath and brood ceaselessly on dewy

Mornings of Cherubs on sunbeams

Oh sit and contemplate like me!

On these thick-milky-mountains

That strewn the length of the heavens

I behold from my earthly stations

On terrestrial hillocks peering on extra-terrestrials

Outlandish in ethereal molds over my mortal mind

I marvel at them –

I too can still sit through a theater of gods!

On a deserted peak of self-elevation

On boulders I have begun to float

With the streams, the winds, and the stars

The restless racing clouds, the sprawling tree-tops

Until faded into their infinite but static motions

Of spheres where wonders of existence

Unfolds like every day marvel –

It moved me to raise alters of lofty perseverance

As that on which to anchor tokens and offerings of worship

14. IMMORTALITY

Sweet is immortality – how pleasant!

I have caste my gaze beyond the precincts of death

And above death, your presence feels immortal

On these ranges the weak falters in frailty

And flesh falls off the heights of human dare

It transcends the farthest zest in meditations

I stand on crests beyond your shores

The limits where death and decimation cannot reach

This mortal self has disintegrated on this earth-verge

As I watch the crags and boulders

In the highest cliffs of self-elation

Where I stayed the whims of emotions

Anticipating a slow wear on timelessness

Cycles of weathering Crees until fade out

By a faceless certainty that contends

With the winds and tempests on your banks

Bringing the seas salinity over corroded cracks

Where I am shredded bare

Washed on the sides by the tides

Of yester-year – naught but thought

And breathe remained – oh physicality

Has varnished as I brace for higher possibilities

In this god-form that reaches out to become

One with your silent drift in calmness of waters

In the embrace of an impassionate zeal

I reach and feel like a god

I felt and fell into eternal eddies

In the void of an unfeelingness

As truly I have strayed beyond the limits

To become the mindlessness of ashes

Cosmic frills floating in an unconscious glee

“Death entwine life”

The algae that menace this overcoat

As a broken down tamp abandoned

On your wet shores of blood and the rankness

Of body-slush in race for salvation

I may proceed on this course of eternity

My spirit bid to fly the farthest of paradise

As new and purified incense in morning mass

Dissolves with the dew in one quiet dawn

15. ABYSS

That which frightens man!

In leaded fall of flesh from damnation

Your mortal load in emotional

Bottomless pits; the swirl; the tumble —

The cries of anguish and hollow depressions

In calls of strength to subdue the gloom

That saps away defeated purpose and self-will

Screams into an empty void, shouts onto emptiness

Of echoes that reverberates into wasted labours

Of repetitions, of dilly dallying, oh delirium!

Of exacerbation from the heavy clouds

That apparently hides steels of hidden

Blades and cool impersonal hates

Of vileness of rains and hazy storms

As denizens rack the cycles of the human limits

Wash, corrosive on the vestiges of the heart

A crave for entry into succulent depths by succubus

Against assertions in certitudes – oh liberation!

I have almost begun to see things beyond tartarus

Beyond the blind wits that play their games in darkness

But no, I resist their fingers of extensive reaches

The urge to succumb to the wiles of the infernal

Of suppressive exactitudes over my chances of escape

Here, the abyss is a yearning buried deep inside man

For self-regeneration, self-assertion, self-immersion

Over the rounds of psychosis

Where I perceive tailed devils of

Blackened wraiths of blind essences

Pull on the virtues needlessly

In compelling yearns of Pluto-hold

Of internalized abysses like

The winds of Aeolus that stirs

Us into gloomy ranges of chimera

And slides out of our grips momentarily

Against wish and against identity

Oh! If I should slip on my frail flight

Tonight, as I contemplate on these cliffs

Of the tallest peaks of trees and pinnacles

Where I stood to disdain cruel intent

In the easy laugh of a drifting cotton wool

Against the exhausted labour of a charging bulwark

Let me not taste of burdens of mortality again forever

And unlike the pains of Sisyphus … breaking free

16. WRAITHS OF STORMS

Of storms—

Neither of seas nor breezes of streams

Not rushing from other natural sources

Neither emitting from even nature’s core - for

The four winds has since receded in reality

Flowing thence—

A cold rage of internal discord

Rearing from personal depths

Deceptive as though it was not there

Imbued with a self-negating strength

More daunting—

I watched them gather momentum

The slowly emitting heat from hollow deeps

They rise up from inner coals and steam

To assail the totality of being

Releasing a gale of discomfiture

The rage mounts like ranges of mountains

As the crown is conquered in overwhelming rhymes

By alien percussions of feelings strange to self

Of storms … irrational feelers

Rooting and diving deeper into crevices

Of pernicious traces lost in faded

Past somewhere within the present

Prune … prune their foliage

If actually they should proceed beyond now

The moment of charred remnants of awareness

In this cremated crypt of memory

As they grow seeds in renewed seasons

They float like resurrected mummies in the mind

17. SOUL PRESSURES

The mind fills every duct

Turgid embrace of the eternal

In my creative depth of perseverance

In every personified sense

Into an absent-minded appreciation

Of a world that fills me now with its pressures

This amorphous fumes – like smoke?

It bears no semblance with tangibility or form

It’s only the invisible self that can grasp

Where all reality and senses melt in surrealism

Squashing splashes of the ever-nascent Forcadoes

And now my mind a smoke!

Formless core within a hardened coal

Of blackness buoyed on the undertow of exigent shores

The thin interface between reality and illusions

This power of imagination –

Is another manifestation of will devoid of muscles?

On flaccid cells dissolving in swollen shells

Conch now by these bubbles of self-indulgence

I rise above waves; I ride on the tides

It feels everything out – my mind

My mind has escaped from its home

And evaporated with the whitened mist

Consciousness settling on a soft meadow

It flows with the rushing waters of the Forcadoes

And drift again in heavens of dreams and play

Sometimes dull, sometimes scintillating in the flames

Of inner fires of day, in the sun-crisps

In this quaint surroundings of calm riverside

Songs of hope, songs of soft reveries; songs of self

18. HEAVEN FOREVER

The vehicle to transport aspirations

Into the physical realms of experience

From the abyss of this netherworld

Marred by this frail mortality on a frivolous

Whim of the human Will

Heaven is locked and buried

In nature’s super-terrains of expectations

In our cosmos of collective delusions

Where deities of the mind feast

In the weightlessness of carefree-willingness

When here at the fortes of the Forcadoes

I die and resurrects onto celestial

Consciousness of endless super-realities

About me, interpreted in translated

Frills of Aeolus winds and fluids

Of ease beyond exquisite folds in baby foils

On a single tension-cord in a distended

Dare of stretched imagination – tense

Extents of unconscious surmises

That reinforces my existence in possibilities

And I sing … spirits fare

Into transcendental delusions

Soothing to the anxieties of my soul

XVIV. CLOSED CHAPTER

Sand – sea – breeze – sea

Sea – sand – sea – breeze

* And fire – fires of cosmic heights

I sat over the birth and death of day!

I have seen sunrise in many sunsets!

In funeral palours of gold and sunbaths

Splashed over an horizon – drawing close

Mortal feelings have vacated the realms

Of contemplations and now asleep in dreams

I retire with the sundown into new sun-deaths.

At the horizons the drapes are falling

I hear evening gongs toll the terminal notes

Of a closing day – the receding

Refrains of twilight’s restfulness

The horns gurgle their stressless fluidity

Of Forcadoes breaking the squelch

Of the blood streams in my veins

The swallows streaming like varnishing

Black spots across the approaching darkness

Of the harried night harnessed by cricks of insects

The shrilled chirpy crickets stirred by their own wits

Yet I behold a wave of emotions wade through the thickset

Of my mind, giving way to a lair in the clefts of Morpheus

Sand – sea – breeze – sea

Sea – sand – sea – breeze – and …

* The fires have faded out – drab skies

Save for only these chilled stars burning

In low intensity at distant worlds of somnolence

Aloof, the skies sparkle bright within real fires

And the moon - a maid just dressed to take

The place of the true bride of day

Emerging shyly in shimmers of borrowed light

Around me – the land approaches in sands

The river fills out with gleaming mirrors

I should be the seawall to simmer down the tides

But instead, now the skein to sift –

Sift – sift – the sieve that is now me

My mind is perforated in thousand holes

While these hideous sensations of sleep

Of night must sift through me into the next day

THE END

Commentary:

EVENING SOLILOQUY ON THE BANKS OF RIVER FORCADOES is a single poem broken into sections, packed full of expressions and emotions of the Poet as he sat down on several evenings at the banks of River Forcadoes at Bomadi, Southern Nigeria.

MINDFORTE Tony Osokpor is a Poet, a Playwright, a Novelist and a public commentator.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is an esteemed platform celebrating the diverse voices of poets and writers worldwide. This annual event encourages creative expression through poetry, short stories, essays, and more, fostering a global community of artists. With a focus on innovation and originality, the competition showcases a wide range of literary talents and offers participants a chance to share their work on an international stage.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Osokpor Tony for his remarkable contribution, "Evening Soliloquy on the Banks of River Forcadoes," to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. His evocative poetry provides a unique glimpse into the depths of human reflection and nature's beauty. We appreciate Tony's participation and look forward to witnessing the continued impact of his creative voice.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.