Tag poetry column

Lances at the hedges of light

By Samuel A. Betiku With Nigeria’s economy and poverty levels worsening, abductions have become an almost daily occurrence in recent years — Reuters Until now, you savoured the world in packets of myth, moon- lit frolic and a cot where…

Impermanence

By Osahon Oka Your hands shake the tray, the cup scatters its hypodermic needles of piercing light, liquid trembling around its rim & then, spill comes gently & sudden to its own impermanence: a puddle slowly closing its eyes. You…

The Event

By Timi Sanni I arrived at this world already primed for pain—the hurt, persistent, primal, poised. Born on the rubble in the wake of the war,I was no different from that childbirthed in the aftermath of the world’s worst divorce.…

INFECTION

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…

DAVID

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…

what moves now, lord?

by tosin gbogi  what does the sea bring back to me now​ what does it wash ashore in its nude song of crossing​ and what floats on its frothing face, butterflying with the tide . . . ​ the light of…

Teaching my father how to fish

By Olatunde Osinaike Getting to know him in the interim, and the gulf of prepositions describing the relative he has been to the two younger than me. Around, against, beyond, concerning, without, notwith- standing: all of the ways we have…

The Blessing of Air

By Inimfon Inyang-Kpanantia the truest poems start with forgiveness for the things I could have become — more when I needed to be vulnerable so I wouldn’t grow into stone. so you see there is no more flexibility in here,…

to cleave a cicada

By Emmanuel Mgbabor you pull each nylon wing as you would unhinge a star from the sky’s dress. & for the first time, you watch a thing discolour in your palm. & i love you for this bravery, for the…

The Dead Way of Seeing Things

By Chinecherem Enujioke On this beach, there is no one. The footprints say too much. About the past. Things that remain unsaid but heard. Voices reaching to join the hallelujah from the church atop the hill. I raise the sand…