Red
By Georgie Your mother sprawls Like a petition left unanswered At an altar. You calculate if this pregnancy Outweighs her body— you imagine How it must be to lift something inside Other than yourself. You shake her fragile body Just…
contemporary african poetry
Cicatrix
By Chinedu Gospel For Mariam every time / my name escapes / from your windpipe / it’s as if I’ve been drowning / inside your air sacs / all my life / & you’ve been pushing me out / like…
Ode to the lust for life
By Anthony Okpunor I think memories to keep the body. I write about the day as what endures the night. something about dreaming is a lie— the blue line above your head is a puzzle of not remembering. still, sometimes,…
After a Conversation about Janazah with S in a Dream
By Abu Bakr Sadiq I wake drunk on the smell of my kufi liquefying under sunlight I touch the sea under my eyes hoping to pick wishbones from its bed I watch a cat fight for its life as it…
i’m here, mother i’m here
By Taiwo Hassan in this poem, fire wears the essence of its irony and i’m drowning. touch this skin, there’s a home burning in each of its pores. make no mistake, these ashes are not meant to be unburnt, so…
32 portraits of a boy
By Emmanuel Ojeikhodion an armistice fails to reconcile the war-zones of my body. there is a big war within that doesn’t die. no one watches when I split like a burning house. nobody listens to the grief rattling my bones.…
Bungee-jumping
By Omodero David Oghenekaro By the green River, I watched the Orange-breasted kingfisher plunge, beak-first for water, to perform the acrobatics of hunger. Show me a hunger that is not dangerous; show me a desire not taking The frame of…
Snowman
By Akubudike Deborah i walk backwards on the snow: on you; take a handful of you: your reflection on my caramel skin; mold it into me, into my memories. i let that white skin, like white roses, pierce…
refrain:
By Ruona to be at the pinnacle’s peak –no more bars to cross not one prayer to say even here is the world swirling chaotic around me and i am breathing the confusion settled around my neck to…
And in all these ways a woman is God
By Roseline Mgbodichinma I. In the chapel, the bell rings & the pendulum swings all into solemnity – the same way a mother’s breast becomes hose and stills the clamour of a child, The only salvation I know is an…