Butterfly Burning by Mapule Mohulatsi

[tabby title="Poem"]I am a butterfly burning.My wings are strangely stitched, tattered at the corners and hard to breatheMy weight is of a flying feather fluttering to be painted in landscapes.Burning,Wounded.A butterfly burning in the bloodied heat of a collectors bloodied...

Cultural identity trapped between colonial margins

Freedom, to me, means a number of things, but I will particularly focus on one, language, which I regard as ‘cultural identity’. The right to cultural identity. As long as the highest law of the country does not correspond with...

A Solitude of Sayings by Mapule Mohulatsi

[tabby title="Poem"] A solitude of sayings followed by caves Ancient with history and silenced bees for the sake of sweet nothings and battered lungs Fangs and blood forsaken drums A shakin' mantra Sayings by deities; Godliness in celetial rites in...

Waiting For Santa by Rishan Singh

[tabby title="Poem"] I waited for Santa like any ordinary kid during Christmas, and though I had never seen him or heard from him, I still ran to hug our Christmas tree. The children played and we hugged mummy and daddy,...