Efe Azino A Kiss Remembers Agbowo Art Poetry

A Kiss Remembers | Efe Azino

  A kiss remembers; how tongues launched bodies into orbits of white nothing, milky ways of no worries, eyes shut beneath a river of twisting sheets, currents of passion carrying the day’s plans into tomorrow.[…]

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Funmi Dipo Ajayi Difficulty Befalls the Easy Make Agbowo

Difficulty Befalls the Easy-Make | Funmi Dipo-Ajayi

  “I don’t usually do this” Your mumbled half-lie drops through the air alongside his belt. Eyes dart left, then right, then left, then right again (everywhere but back to his own). You catch the[…]

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Deborah Agube Correspondence with Heaven Agbowo

Correspondence with Heaven | Deborah Agube

  I wonder what rainbows feel like, what it tastes like having heaven on your lips. There is a rebirth that comes with the rains to earth, with the many colours of hope and beauty[…]

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Petitioning Christ Arhin Tsiwah

Seminal Blues and Petitioning Christ | Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah

 SEMINAL BLUES (Post conversation with death)    “Dying / Is an art, like everything else.” -Sylvia Plath, “Lady Lazarus”   Your words do not meet the hearth in my ears they are always met with[…]

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What we do not want romeo oriogun agbowo

What We Do Not Want | Romeo Oriogun

    After Jennifer Perrine   We do not want the hate, no ghost boys wandering about cities that should be home,  no sticks calling the name of love, no mother giving up on boys[…]

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Logan February Still Life With the Evangelist and Akudaaya

‘Still Life with the Evangelist’ and ‘Àkúdàáyá’ | Logan February

still life with the evangelist     have you heard the gospel? – did you know               that birdsong is older than a rooster’s call        […]

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Gbenga Adeoba Starlight Agbowo

Starlight | Gbenga Adeoba

I am furling like arcs of tendrils unknown. Perhaps it is the rhythm wafting from your country; or the way of waters, how they hold flotsams in their wake, in grips weighed in ripples. Only[…]

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What She Said Agbowó Precious Arinze

What She Said | Precious Arinze

Dear, if you find this, we filled three notebooks with our abusers’ names and fed them to a stove. Still, they did not leave. Like how scars forget to fade long after the wounds close[…]

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Two Portraits and a Reflection | Musawenkosi Khanyile

Reflections   In grade 8, my hand landed on the delicate parts of a classmate. This did not look anything like me: a well-behaved boy who always wore neatly and performed well in class. She[…]

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On Desire Tade Ipadeola Agbowo

On Desire | Tade Ipadeola

So the thing I want the most to do is ask Why Cleopatra’s Needle pierces history From Luxor to Paris, London and New York Why Muhammad Ali gave our monument away?   But you know[…]

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