
The Song that Sings Me │ Kwaghkule Jacob │ Poetry
Before the sky will be bereavedOf the lately smiles of the sunSome lovely lyrics will stuneDeeply down my eardrum &Plant some particles of euphoriaRoaming the valleys of my soul. And…More
Before the sky will be bereavedOf the lately smiles of the sunSome lovely lyrics will stuneDeeply down my eardrum &Plant some particles of euphoriaRoaming the valleys of my soul. And…More
It Is Promises arebayonets pressedupon the rungsof hope. . . and gougedby a hornet. ‘trust’ —a cadaver walkingon mortal hoofs,unaware of the luringfragrance sketched in the air;but…you, area thin line:a…More
Feyisayo Adeyemi, founder, Nantygreens The intersection between literary platforms and literary works goes beyond creating an enabling platform. While literary platforms take pride in being recipients of quality works and…More
With the weather in a confused state – literally, and the current sad happenings looming over our heads, many of us are not really getting the Christmas-y feeling. I’m sending virtual hugs to everyone experiencing this – especially our book lovers. But I bring good news! Despite all the bad…More
Literature reflects our world, increasing our appreciation and understanding of the interrelatedness of our identities as individuals and as communities. It shows us our place in the world and how…More
When I struggled to talk to youI looked out of the coffee shopTo watch a fowl’s attempt at flyingI tell you that I am like the fowlOdd and insecure That…More
Sometimes I hunt my pagesCurving lines and doting “I’s”Flipping through the many judgementsExpressing thoughts and captured momentsWithout thinking or focusMaking sense or writing jargonsI could hear its voice echoScreaming and…More
Father’s Skull Harboured Inferno Father had lost all his age before he died:I saw his farewell faceas only a scary replica of mine as a toddlerand when he said “do…More
A Call Out of My Mind Palace I was never present in my body, wandering in the rain in a world that only saw my body and ignored me. It…More
the echo of a wound after interment father, the path to your graves t r e t c h e s like an elastic placenta affixed to my lacrimal sac.your…More