Poems

Poetry

Fireflies 

Written By: Franklyn Orode A professional civil engineer and poet writes a poem about nature Often they come on some forlorn eveningsThese distant relatives of the sparkling starsOut in the open field like innocent childrenPlaying on rainy days, oblivious of our painMyriads of fragile angels…

Poetry

Blood on the Wall 

Written by: Edwin Olu Bestman A Liberian poet writes about COVID-19 and the situation of things in Liberia Here we are againLosing our love onesIt’s raining harshly in our cityCOVID -19 ruining our homesAnd tears rolling off the windowpane Silent screams!Different voices playing in our…

Poetry

The Phantom’s Refrain 

Written By: Samuel Adeyemi A boy walks into a bar,swings the door openlike he is the wind’s first child.But a boy has no mother.The world commits another absurd adoption.A boy is another loose string on the cello,another wrong piano note,whose sound is swallowed in the…

Poetry

BARE 

Written By: Oluwafemi Babasola Baby, I’ll walk this bridgeto you,even if all my feet feelis a thread strong as thespider’s web. Baby, I’ll fly to you,even if it means divingfrom this cliff withuntested wings. I’ll lift these layers of skinsthat cover me.I’ll unveil these masks…

Poetry

To My Next Abuser 

Written By: John Chizoba Vincent When next you come stretchingyourself into a different nameless river,I beg to connect to your tide and waves,do not force me to spread my legsagain like those that came before youdid; I have not seen my period afterMallam Musa’ prayers…

Poetry

I am a chalice 

Written By: Maxwell Opia-Enwemuche I am a chalice full of sweet wine & my wine is for my priest, a priest I will yield my body & soul. Do not desire me for pleasure; look beyond my enticing hour-glass body & embrace my conscious cerebral…

Poetry

Meditation on Writing 

Written by: Pamilerin Jacob I fail miserablyat my most beloved habit. Suddenly, a stone is a stone. A cloud is a cloud. &the water in my cup possesses no ancient history. Not a symbol. Nota metaphor. The mornings are stripped clean of magic: birds, no…

Poetry

1967 

Written By: Samuel Junior Irusota (In Memory of Victims of War) Here: parents go to bed with no hope Of seeing their children in the morning Here, everywhere you go, all you see  is a basket of Bones__ Here, children are left homeless & defenseless…

Poetry

Jide Badmus: CAESURA 

Sleep is sanctuary—man’s trouble is seduced,stripped of its ferociousness.Here I am safefrom nagging worriesuntil the alarm shrills.The sun wakes me with a kisswhere he’d bruised me yesterday.Life is turned on, again—I won’t go down on my knees today. Photo Credits: Pexels Jide Badmus is an…

Poetry

HOW WE SPELL HOME 

There’s a heap of charcoaling lyrics at the fireplace.  My father said it is the remains of a burning song, The one which caught fire in a boy’s mouth, When he stood on the assembly ground And sang our national anthem. These days, mom sits…

Poetry

AN ECHO OF SILENCE 

Because we do not preserve memories from decay By immersing them in vessels filled with formalin, I tried to remember you today- your smell, your kiss The beats and lyrics of the songs you said your heart Sang for me, but I can’t remember any….

Poetry

STICKY NOTES 

We read the sticky notes on her wall today, “What separation technique is used To separate pain from life?” “How does a fish who lost its gills survive? Does it befriend the tides or surrender to The fangs of the waters?” “As a man releases…

Poetry

To woo a man 

Who said a woman must sit still like a statue or sculptured image under the tree of love and wait till the wind of fate blows down bat-eaten fruits into her outstretched hands? Who said a woman cannot stand upon her feet like a human…

Poetry

Shrines 

Today, a cold sinner will find warmth by sitting around the fire in a pastor’s mouth. but this sinner knows not that communion is a purgative which causes constipation, so he’d eat one piece of bread, and his tongue longs for another, then a drop…

Poetry

One of you 

Do not ask me again Why I hop from tree to tree like a monkey It is because I am in a frantic search For healing herbs for my bedridden country And just as the thunder’s applause welcomes the rain And the torch of lightening…

Poetry

Tell Papa 

Ujunwa, have they told papa that I am a story wrapped in a parcel, Held in place by a colorful ribbon of tears? Did papa believe them when they told him, That I am the ashes of burnt dreams, Waiting to be whisked away by…

Poetry

Come Watch Me Dance Naked 

Jaachi, I am the tree which died in the seedlings you refused to tend. I am a memory you cannot drown in a keg of palm-wine, for like a feather, I will float upon the rivers of your thoughts till you recall and regret the night when you abandoned a broken flute at the village square, for I am that flute and wholeness found me in the hands of a drummer boy who lost his drumsticks.

Poetry

Bonfire 

God is like that favorite red dress she got on her tenth birthday. she loves it so much but it no longer fits. Her father never stopped saying she was a poem he wrote in her mother’s body & forgot its lines. So when he…

Poetry

BRITTLE 

my father’s voice is a dark hole. when I was six, I fell into it, tasted his liquid darkness and I became a light- too bright for the prying eyes of dawn. In my sojourn, I have climbed seven mountains of tears and crossed ten…

Poetry

Solitude 

On the shelf of solitude, silence is a book, with black & white pages, telling stories which died on their way to the village square; like that of Enem Ogodoo, the one who spent a lifetime, oiling a flute which would play the first note…

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