Today’s choice
Previous poems
Fatihah Quadri Eniola
How It Ends
There is an album of all the men
your mother have loved. It sits every
night in the deep silence of the
basement. Tonight, your mother
burns the album, she pours fire into
her longing. Every memory carries a
flame, every man with his own ash.
The moon in the balcony is an
abandoned lantern. Your mother
laughs into a sudden teardrop.
Fatihah Quadri Eniola is a Nigerian page and performance poet who uses poetry as a tool for advocacy. She is a strong advocate for gender equality, human rights, and community issues. Fatihah is the winner of the inaugural Pawner’s Paper Performance Poetry Prize for Peace and the 2025 Centre for Black and African Culture Poetry Prize, among other accolades. Her works have been published in Torch Literary Arts, The West Trade Review, South Florida Poetry Journal, and more. She has a background in Law from the University of Ibadan.
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Not the boring twin.
Not even benign.
This is a proper island:
rocks, foghorn, lighthouse.
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Dilys Wyndham Thomas
we walk through the exhibition hall lost
amongst water-logged bones, a sunk haul lost
Ruth Lexton
It is late at night and the kettle is boiling,
a quire of steam fanning out in the white kitchen
you are holding me as if I were your girl again
Stewart Carswell
It’s the house at the end.
White paint flakes off the front gate,
wood rots beneath.
Chris Kinsey
Hey cat, you’re doing really well,
three fields stalked and only one to go.