By Ajibola Tolase In the doctor’s office wheremy symptoms dissipate at the newsof negative test results. I’m lookingat my tongue, colored orangeby Fanta in the mirror. Sinceit seemed I will live I shiftmy focus to things dying in me—English words…
By Ugochukwu Damian Okpara here are my hands, lonely as they can be.i once asked a man to hold them & confesshis love for me. the man shy as my fatherheld them & didn’t know what else to do.i could…
By I.S. Jones I loved you when I was a childand so, my love for you was childish.For nine lifetimes, you’ve haunted my dreams. Nine lifetimes of finding me in the tender hoursthat hang low enough to touch.Which doesn’t help…
By Flourish Joshua Faith Moyosore Agboola’s poetry has a raw, sensitive, and honest quality to it. There’s something remarkable about the way she writes lines that tell strong and moving stories while also being interwoven with multiple poetic devices. During…
First runner-up, 2022 LIPFEST’s Poetry Slam, Christtie Jay in this conversation with Flourish Joshua discusses her forthcoming spoken word album, motivations, writing process, and what lies ahead. Why poetry? Because poetry is music. It’s soul food. It’s fluidity and freedom.…
By Zaynab Bobi Law of invisibility: arrange the atoms in a solid object randomly. Heat at high temperature and cool down immediately. There is a realm in my mouth In my mouth, there is a dream In the dream, men…
Michael Chiedoziem Chukwudera The spoken word poetry album, “Music has Failed Us” is the debut album by the poet Abu Ibrahim who goes by the stage name, “IB.” Along with other poets from around the world, they are currently advocating…
By Ayokunle Samuel Betiku Dulcet wind, sing of heights. We climb the long-drawn steps into rewards beyond the screaming feet, lift hands in rapture as if to pull gravity into surrender. It is the blue teeming with avian grandeur that…
By Divine Inyang Titus I wager, outside poems, a mother who falls into a ravine does not rebirth in a burst of angel wings. Her son does not seduce the rain with his tears or beam his glee when the…
By Nnadi Samuel glossy with aging, in that green conceited morning. rot terrifies me. fossil, barreling through my measured loin. I conserve light at the slightest crack of dawn, from things that pass for broken: my delicate mother. the thunderstick…
