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 Sep 2020 Winter
Babatunde Raimi
Poets never die
They live forever
On the pages of our hearts
With lines that resonates with us
They hug you so tight in their lines
And make you forget your past

Poets are Legends
They pierce through stony walls
With words that cuts like a knife
Not with the tongue
But with well conjugated lines
Oozing from the best of minds.

There is a man for every woman
A woman for every man
If there is a gift for all and sundry
Then, there is a poem in everyone
A poem that tells a story
A story or love, lust, hurt, all freely expressed

When I am sad, I think
When I am happy, I smile
If I want to save the memory
All I do is ink it in a poem
And never will it fade away
Memories that will linger till eternity

Poets are romantically romantic
Marry a Poet, you will live longer
They paint the world with words
And make the world a better place
They are masters of eros and seduction
Especially when they run their ink through your sensory receptors

When my time finally comes
I want to smile and die empty
Knowing I changed my world poetically
And to me, this is how to change the world
For even when we die, we never die
 Aug 2020 Winter
putiira
Meet me in
a blank page
 Aug 2020 Winter
Michael Perry
HEAVEN BOUND

in what feels
like a way station
for the people-of ethereal
to move about;  a difference of realities
they mill around to
take their turn-there
is no pushing, everyone
gets in line, fully cooperates
coming from everywhere
all walks of life
white, black, yellow, brown, red
filling up all the space
they smile, or
give a pat on the back
reassuring; to usher each other through
to the waiting gate; young and the old
gathering together ready
to make their way, destined to
board the crosstown bus, be heaven bound

by Michael Perry
Cultures of old
Surrendering to thy god
Bowing in reference
Telling mysteries unravelment

The forecast of the elders
Giving praises to their gods
Welcoming the spirits
Resurrecting the ancient incantations

Monarchs in gathering
Rulers in council
Entering the room of spirituality
Leaving Epistles for generations unborn

Their cultural powers
A bestowing of forefathers
Worshipping mighty deities
Forming lineages of righteousness

Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson
 Jul 2020 Winter
Anwer Ghani
My life is not as big as our grandfather's river who tried to plant trees in his sand. Legend has it that he dug a river at the moment of migration, so he called it (huff), and because he went to the sand, his land was bare. He colored its skin with a beautiful green full of milk.  Despite all the palm trees he planted around it, you can recognize my sandy face. Now I am not in the bare land, but its dry winds color my dreams.
 Jan 2020 Winter
Pauper of Prose
Laughter and Loneliness
Fill the streets of towns
Some cuddle in comfort
Or
Linger on the lone ledge
And these events are caused by
Those that bury their heart in others
Those that bury their heart in emptiness
But remember
We all must carry shovels
So don’t mind the blisters
Or the uneven handle
Or the dulling of such a tool
For we can dig ourselves
Into anything
And out of everything
Happy pre-V-Day to every soul slotted into every conceivable condition....
 Nov 2019 Winter
KV
Roses
 Nov 2019 Winter
KV
there are roses growing
from my hands
My doubt the seeds
Begging them to grow

There are roses climbing
up my arms
digging in my skin
but i am numb
to their thorns and beauty

There are roses growing
in my lungs
bloodied petals
filling my throat
and falling from my lips

Tears are sliding
down my cheeks
I've had enough
I am to weak
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