Greetings Hivers, it's been a while since I've posted and maybe some of you were wondering where I've been or what I've been up to. Rest assured I'm still here, the last few months have been interesting

Twirling on my desk Roundabout my files A lone, black ant In a scout for crumbs of sugar Paraded itself like a pageant My thumb is raised To thunder below To sniff life out of the Liliputan creature But

The future does not come To you like the balls of doughnuts in a showglass Nor does it come To you like the brilliant colours of the rainbow The future does not come To you like the replay of a football

the culture of the cross spreads out from the tongues of prophets & clergies its ways so tender like wool but they throw bayonet at those who don't raise the flag of their culture— they say they are

I know of woman's privilege: Say a woman walks into a space and there's an outpour of warmth to envelope her body because she's a woman. Also say a woman drops the wrath in her palm on her lover's cheek

at the tap of catalysm we scoop the voice of a nightingale to sing psalms reaching God's bosoms. call it anything you like, a ritual of a mad man because you feel only the insane sprinkle psalms on a dead

there's something about war; its cicatrixes are always mint. how does diplomacy wash a land drenched with blood? do biafrans forget the massacre? do we forget our progenitors who chose death to bondage

A time comes they beat their gongs in grins and generous palms. Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! The rattles spread round the city then, we assemble ourselves with starved bellies. Their manifestos unfurl,

I wake every morning into a circus of worries— what doom will this country birth today? and it's just what it's; my country is a museum for grief. I want to language the litany of joy in every poem my

Everything I love is always on the move, say they don't wait for me like God & like my ex-lover from whom I learned love could also be a metaphor for fire. Dreadlocks spread their lushness on my head—

OCD DAILY - Issue #773 Welcome to the 773rd issue of @OCD Daily! Issue #759 highlights content from five (5) Hive Content Creators! The OCD team continues its search throughout Hive to find you the undervalued

We sit behind our television sets watch the players evoke spells with their feet. We cheer them on to our desired goal post as though we own them. We strip off serenity's robes at every faux pass made

If you see the old man with wrinkles, tattered cloth and an osseous chest, tell him I wasn't grasped by the raucous songs flailing into my ears via my earpiece, but by his semblance with an abandoned library.

motherland screams my name as i lay on my half-eaten bed. she doesn't call me by my Christian name; she calls me by the name that thunders my identity. i open my eyes to see a bleeding mother. i see a

and death will not leave anything untouched not the man who pulls out every carnage from people's throats with words of the cross not the rich that unearth privation till nothing is left not the poor that

Sometimes, I wish death is a guest we have to welcome with a queue of preparations— Say we hold a banquet for Death on his first visit. So, it enters our household, eats to stupor because of the meal's

A parched fig tree mocks a mouth— a man is wedged into a mendicant, he would stretch himself into his family's & acquaintances' heart but a miser is a padlocked door—always repelling others from its

Yesterday we held the first ever LeoFinance x CUB AMA session. Each Friday, we'll meet as a community and do these AMAs to talk about the current state of development in LeoFinance and Cub. This week was

The cryptospace seems to be in a season of meme tokens. Only a few hours ago, a new community-driven meme token known as YooShi debuted on the well-known Hotbit exchange, soaring over 600% within the first

a boy in a Palestine cell can't tell you his lover serenades him like a constellation of stars does to the night. a mother in Gaza can't tell you flowers are beautiful accessories say, in Gaza, flowers