FUNERAL

Its really been a long while, a really long while I flexed my poetic muscles. But with the help of a magician I did it. When last did you drink poetry from my blog? Sit down and enjoy this. Roses are red,Violets are blue.These, I don't seem to understand.The circumstances of life has made me …

I AM A WOMAN!

I grew up as the pride of my father;My pride was as tall and huge as the Iroko.Grandma adored and adorned my neck with countless blessings;I was a princess envied by many. But my rose lost a petal when education came knocking.Don't send her to school, send her brothers instead!I love school and I'm sharper …

EVENING RETROSPECTIONS

Spent the evening of yesterday,under the sunset;and on the roads we walked,recalling memories.Memories dressed like kids,who knew they could die any moment.Memories of how we played,under the moon light,even as I stroked your hair,It's really long, you know?The hair, I mean;And then I told you stories.Some fake, most real;and you'd laugh,and tell me how lucky …

DEEP THOUGHTS

Photo Source: Esther George ESTHER GEORGE has actually been a guest here sometime before and now I'm having her over again. Her poetic pieces just seem to touch each and every one of us at the deepest places we could ever imagine. This time she makes a dirge to a lover, but how she assumes …

I SMILE

Many times, people go through a lot; which are usually sad, and these are all covered in make up, smiles, jokes, jibes.ESTHER GEORGE, a Nigerian young writer; embodies the suffering of humans (maybe women especially) in the quest to always be happy and ready for the camera in her poetic piece titled: I SMILE🌝. Poetry …

KISS

THE POET: MEKA WRIGHTS So, today a poem from a poet that has been here before. Meka Wrights is an Abuja based writer and poet with magic fingers that demystifies love at all levels, he is an avid reader and a believer of God. KISS A mere touch with the lips, or press the lips …

WRITER’S BLOCK

"Understand this: I'm a writer, an artist, a god, and when I'm separated from my art, when I cannot command words or bring words alive, by a flick of my wrist or the gentle glide of my pencil on paper, I become incompetent". ~ Hauwa Hala Nurudeen