LitPub

after Nikki Giovanni’s “resignation” (for you, you, & you)i love you because our mothers say nothing is more worse than eating alone so we eat iyán & ègúsí from the same bowl brotherman you who would wrestle a blue whale for my sake i love you because of all the steep mountains & the hills […]

–For Oby, Albert, Quadri, and everyone who left us too early Does the body ever get familiar with grief?This sinking, this drowningGoing underwater and unable to find an anchor Does one ever get used to sorrow?The smile on the face of a strangerThe singsong laughter of a passer-byA look that reminds of exactlyHow much you loved life Is there […]

Everytime I arrive here,The leaves are in bloom, their wrinkled skins blown south, then east,Until it lands bare. I find it strange,How my heart races with this placeGoosebumps crawl over me,My mind falls with the brown rain of a tree Ending itself. I cannot find home. Every arrival is a gongKnocked hard. Every fondness of […]

When we last went to Mother’s rural home in Gutu in the early months of 1997, the river still flowed, the buses still ran on time, our money still had value and I still cared about my family. I still cared about her. No, not Mother. Her. No two people were closer than me and […]

Bastion of FaithIWe belong to God in different waysJust as Odysseus belonged to the sirens and Penelope In different spindles of history. The sun arranges A box of light at the corridor of my being:This fibrous strands of belief, wovenAt the intersection of the sea. I, a boy, wade through the Niger-DeltaWhere the phytoplanktons and […]

August, 2024 OlongoAfrica.com presents a year-long project to explore the legacy of the Black Orpheus journal on literature and culture documentation around the African continent. The Black Orpheus Journal of African and Afro-American Literature was first published between 1957 and 1975. It was founded by Ulli Beier, a German-Jewish expatriate whose work in the arts […]

ASANTEKumasi, your name, a tree with millions of golden branches, a border of origin from which your mother was missing until she flickered on the ghostly lane, & again in the city under Oboase.Your children, named after historical wars of a stranger who intruded yourterritory. In their manhood might have met a man inscribed as […]

The first frame is steady: smoke in the distance; a montage of bodies— singers and drummers, acrobats, names forfeited momentarily to their craft. Drumbeats for a cue, almost an epiphany, and you pan for signs in a portion of the square alien to gardening. It is a given: the bàtá rhythm heralding the masquerades now […]

In the cities, chit-chatting women with broken heels right their slipping sleeves with one hand and remove gums from their mouths with the other to paste the obituary of poems merely to do “justice” Posters hanging on for life to traumatized walls bearing the vague impression of poems tortured contortionists dissolving into amorphous ink Their […]

– Ọ̀dọ́jà The horticulturist says February is for flower Not for love, so I go into the field In search of plant I once dreamt of Until I find it, and touch and burn and soften under the fire pump of its flamy fingers, And not a metal can hold The frame of this body […]