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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.
How do you tell your husband you don't love him anymore? That you probably never did. That somewhere along the line when you turned 22 and he asked you to marry him, you just went with it cause otherwise would have been unseemly. You fell naturally into the role of a...
Kate sat alone on a long concrete chair by the sidewalk clutching her hair to her neck. A cold evening breeze blew across the lonely road spattering leaves from tall mahogany trees which she gently brushed off her satchel bag and her toned skin. She had just left Mrs....
Jerry stared at the lady in front of him. He looked at her as though his eyeballs were trying to absorb her image. She was as pretty as a rose with diamond petals. The atmosphere was charged with the latest hip-hop music blaring from the several loudspeakers in the...
It is 3am In the head of a poet are words seeking freedom. the hand beckons the pen for their salvation. each stroke is Moses parting the red Sea. words hitting pages like prayers hitting heaven a thousand more miracles unfurl before dawn. he learns to set words free...
...the story of a young Christian who found answers Everybody has a story. But I was born without a story and not till I clocked 18 that Reverend Thompson, my father, decided it was high time he explained how he, a white man, fathered me, a black boy. I remember that...
I just saw a post by a friend, he promised to write stories for people because he was bored and probably lonely and horny. Now sex is both a depressant and a stimulant, I think he chose a perfect moment to write. Like sex, there are a lot of odd situations that...
Have you ever thought about the important parts of your story? Stories are supposed to help you capture, engage and retain the reader's attention. There are sections of your story, I will call "hotspots" and they are: 1. The title or topic. 2. The First paragraph. 3....
UNITED STATES OF AFRICA By the River of the Niger, there we sat down We enjoyed life before we were termed, clowns We lived in harmony living in our own towns We never knew sicknesses such as the syndrome, Downs There we were when the ships came and had us raided Took...
When I got a copy of Zarfi and she wants my Jollof— two stories written by Damilola Jonathan Oladeji, I was super excited. Maybe because I have read a few stories written by the same author and each time, I wanted more from where they came from. When I...
“So, how far boy? How the test go?" Nnanna asked, a wide grin spread across his face. He placed the rizla on his right lap, and slowly put the ground weed on it. “Nna eh, ogboni wan kill person.” Dozie was hanging his shirt on the fence. He was obviously not in a...
