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By dawn, a few of Tez’ Mu’s assumptions had been proven correct, earning him his escorts’ begrudging respect. Merchants using the Mirin route were now being allowed into the city, though the Keolyor had doubled security. That was an opportunity, one he intended to use.
Poetry, in many instances, resists the desire to be confined to a single definition. Ask a magazine editor, a poet, and a critic what poetry is, and their responses will differ—despite their frequent intimacy with the form. One might argue that a poem is meant to be experienced, not defined. Yet often, the reader encountering a work of poetry seeks both experience and comprehension. They don’t just want to feel the poem; they want to understand it—to walk away satisfied with that experience because they “have a rational understanding of that experience,” as Yvor Winters put it.
Imagery is the invocation of any of the five senses to create mental images and spark sensations using figures of speech. There is nothing appealing about a poem without one. The absence of imagery makes a poem bland and lifeless. Literary authorities recognise seven...
Green has always been my colour for pain. My class teacher always grades our papers with a green pen, and each time I see my scores, the green stares at me, mocking, with the wicked curve of a D, or the sharp edges of an F. Nna Anyi was driving a green car when he...
Isn’t it funny how everything becomes urgent only when you have little time to do them? Think about it. That last project you stayed up all night to complete, only because you had a deadline to beat the next day. Having just two years to live feels the exact same...
The prophet has just finished tapping their foreheads. They have been slain in the spirit. The one girl confesses to being a lesbian and that the other girl also receiving a similar treatment is her partner. We watch on; nothing runs out of them, no sprites or demons...
Even though it was raining cats and dogs outside, he still heard the knocking on his door. That's how loud and insistent the person was. He tried to take a look at who it was through the peephole but it was too dark to make anything or anyone out. Nobody visited him...
They tossed them out of moving cars And quenched them with ease like cigars, Like water sachets with reckless abandon They cared not to notice or mention Our ideas, our passion and dreams And would not listen to the voice of reason. They did not consider the future...
He gave me an evil look. It was down the road to Suleja; through green and yellow corn fields. The shimmering sun cast her smile upon Zuma rock lighting up those two deep holes. Her shadow looked more beautiful than ever. I was lost in wonder. How blessed it would be...
The Irony of Hope There are many stories untold. Because of the power they hold. These tales are truths suppressed. That it may never free the oppressed. Lies painted beautiful, appeasing like libation. Citizens filled with pain and dereliction. They're left with...
Tell Nonso That We Are Looking For Him Her lips are moving; Her face is wet. The oil lamp is on the table. She can smell smoke in the air. Her hand quakes over the paper, spilling words. Some live, others are impaled by straight lines. There are many lines,...
Love Is The Religion They know love is the Religion. They know love is the ammunition for false affiliation. They despised its acclamation and joyfully embraced abomination. They understood love is an acceleration but they chose to align with affliction. They know...
