GREEN LIBYAN by Victor Igiri

Illegal migrants from Africa, attempting to reach Europe, walk towards a detention center off the coastal town of Guarabouli, 60 kilometres (36 miles) east of the capital, on July 8, 2017. Thirty-five migrants, including seven children, were feared drowned after their inflatable craft sank off the Libyan coast, the coastguard said. Eighty-five migrants, including 18 women, were rescued with the help of fishermen who alerted the coastguard. / AFP PHOTO / MAHMUD TURKIA (Photo credit should read MAHMUD TURKIA/AFP/Getty Images)

How can the flower blossom when the Garden ebbs in cancer? Who will notice our tears in dark rains to restore? …and whose hands will saviour who dines unsublime? Today is libyans, a tale we tell of Escapees; but to wither a leper in this Ancestry or war- through a sojourner, which has survived your… Continue reading GREEN LIBYAN by Victor Igiri

IF BLACK… by by Lebile Melt Tosin

if the black doesn’t forgive there would be war forever if we don’t forget blood would paste our road if the black don’t believe to build faith admits molestation if they don’t………….. no white would walk alive if the black don’t forget how they hang our fore fathers if we don’t forgive how they forcefully… Continue reading IF BLACK… by by Lebile Melt Tosin

LET ME DIE by Abiola Inioluwa Oluwaseun

Let me die Tonight I wish to die, I wish to die after beholding death unravel our posterity’s nudity. I wish to halt my soul from beholding the parched bones of serenity, Lying helplessly on sacred sands. I wish my ear drums could be beaten to death, Since sonorous sounds have seized from this jungle… Continue reading LET ME DIE by Abiola Inioluwa Oluwaseun

MISDIRECTIONS

We have mastered the scores of our faith Wrote them on scrolls Put them in a bottle… We’ve seen the combs of wisdom Take the strands of our hairs And burnt them in the stubble We, on the path of slavery Have masturbated with the integrity that made us Victorious merchants of faith Now drinking… Continue reading MISDIRECTIONS

THE MONEY SLAVE

To and fro the day’s old shaft living a life of a penny per day a man whose resolve lies in money filled with thoughts of none that is broken and lost to money’s bidding a slave with no shackles yet still bound Don’t be one please Written by: Mugana Dunamis

THE CASSAVA TOO IS A FRUIT

We lived and grew beneath the soil Joyful in our minds that we toil To someday come out us cassabreties Signing autographs at festivities Shoulders lifted up high Teeth pushing out when saying ‘hi’ It was morning, we heard harsh knocks First time disturbed in our sweet underworld The ants and termites say, “They can’t… Continue reading THE CASSAVA TOO IS A FRUIT

WE TOOK IN

In days gone, I was told None was black, none was white None was Franco, none was Anglo None chewed arrogance, none failed tolerance None brained nobility, none mocked religiosity…. We were all Sisters and brothers Young stuck to the old like bread to butter We took seats at full tables with smiles to down… Continue reading WE TOOK IN

WAVES OF FATE…

Parched in this oily trap, with our fates dangling on a swinging rope, We hummed the songs of the fear in our hearts and submitted our case Upon the table of injustice We stand on this trial ground to sign our fears for death Cleaning our faces with rags of poverty as economic strangulation Hangs… Continue reading WAVES OF FATE…