Rhymes are employed for the specific purpose of rendering a pleasing effect to a poem which makes its recital an enjoyable experience.
Punctuation in poetry is similar to punctuation in prose and serves almost the same purpose as bar lines in music without which the words and notes won’t flow altogether. In order words, punctuation assists in organizing your words into discernible verses: encapsulates thoughts and ideas aids in coherence and the presentation of meaning signals when and… Continue reading UNDERSTANDING POETRY: THE PLACE OF PUNCTUATION IN A POEM (by Kukogho Iruesiri Samson)
The fault for a badly written book lies with the writer while the fault for a badly published book belongs to the publisher’ while the shame is a joint venture. A respectable publisher should never knowingly publish a bad book.
It is time for our poets to realize that a boy is not always a butterfly & our mothers are not all moons. Poetry is first an expression of self before anything. Be original.
Again, by saving your works and releasing them only on foreign platforms, you are inadvertently taking everything away from us and making us have to borrow access. Right now, we can no longer read anything from most of our good poets unless we first access them from foreign platforms.
In reality, many people discover writing after suffering some physical or psychological discomfort that they want to talk about. Perhaps due to their social circumstances, these people cannot find a voice loud enough to reach the audience they want, or they do not even think anyone is willing to listen or able to hear them. Then they discover writing.
I am, that was from dead womb born,That drank the spittle of your scorn.And from the riches of your dumpsI got my meals in moldy lumps. That little boy, frail fly magnet,The Devil strung him in him netAnd did put strength in his weak arms…So come I now with untold harms!! Bang … Don’t look… Continue reading YOU MADE ME WHAT I AM
Poetry is a slice of life. If poetry is a slice of life? Whose life? I have noticed of recent that my poem are increasingly being mistaken as autobiographical. People have so much fused me and my poems that a sad poem means I am depressed and a love poem means there’s some damsel in… Continue reading THE POET AND HIS POEM: POETRY AS A SLICE OF LIFE
I look at the man screaming at my feet, my prisoner, grinning as he groans. You might wonder why he groans. He is simply in pain. I have just chopped off his legs. His hands will be next. Before the chopping, I purged the evil out of him with my late mother’s pestle. He is… Continue reading AVENGERS: AN EYE FOR AN EYE
Light came on and Maxwell opened his eyes immediately. “NEPA! The idiots have woken up,” he thought. He was lying on his side, near the edge of his oddly large bed. It colonized more than a third of his organized bedroom. Except for two condom wraps, a pair of Nike shoes near his crowded shoe… Continue reading IN BED WITH LADY ‘X’