Call For Submission: Prose & Poetry Hood Poetry Competition

Love is undoubtedly humankind's most exploited subject matter. And yet every year, all year round, the reproduction of "love" in art, literature, music, and a diverse array of many other fields, continues as if the subject, after all this time, has yet to be exhausted.

This month, the traditional celebration of Saint Valentine's Day guarantees that the subject be brought to the foreground and be taken up yet again. As people gather in couples and whisper worn-out phrases to each other in their attempts to make the sincere, albeit recycled, words meaningful and different, one begins to wonder whether we have lost the essence of loving amidst all its typical expressions and its usual commercialized trappings (roses, chocolates, cards, etc.).

In this light, PROSE & POETRY HOOD is putting together a Valentine/love-themed anthology. Founded by its editor Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu, PROSE & POETRY HOOD is dedicated to publishing works by African writers as well as curating anthologies such as this. The winner, who will be announced on 24 February, will receive #5,000, and selected poems will make the anthology, which will be made available for downloads on the same day.

We call on poets to weave their magic and ink poems better than roses on Valentine's day.

PROSE & POETRY HOOD call for entries:

For the next couple of weeks, we’re inviting poets to spend some time playing Cupid. Pick up a pen and shoot a few fictional characters with love arrows for the chance to win #5,000!

Submission Guidelines:

All entries must be emailed to poetryhoodcontact@gmail.com as Microsoft Word attachments.

Please put “Prose & Poetry Hood Valentine’s Day Competition – Your Full Name” in the subject line.

E.G: Prose & Poetry Hood Valentine’s Day Competition – Kelechi Kehinde Kudirat

Entries must be no more than 18 Lines

In the body of the email, please include your contact details, country of origin, social media handles and a short bio (100 words max).

Deadline: Tuesday, 13th February 2018.

Further enquiries should be sent to poetryhoodcontact@gmail.com

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

The Curve And Colors Of Hate | Uwen Precious Ogban

The Curve And Colors Of Hate When the evening news had broken Father spoke with a tone of pain and anger “Nigeria is a whore,” And my mother agreed Painting sensual scenes giving you pleasure of what looks like a garden that hides a landmine. And how trying to walk through it becomes slippery A journey asking for crimson libations, full of fractures and ‘Had I knowns’ while you looked over the fence for greener pastures Her sighs spoke of a menu full of thrills but you are served double horrors She, Nigeria, abhors you later on when it relinquishes you of value, Truly, she is an old ‘Whore’ My Father picked it from there, “Nigeria gets hard as rock” Wants of men despised Sullen moods recorded in poems, speeches, and events, snubbed For as long as it makes sultry suplex’s on a comfortable ring – Nigeria is satisfied “Son, Nigeria is you, your mum and I” Guilty to a fault Pained by happenings that come with fire and brimstone Let loose from bellies that should hold patriotis...

Featured Poem: Slavery In Africa - by Uwen Precious Ogban

SLAVERY IN AFRICA We believe they rowed their boats of tumults into our region; carrying with them bags of conundrums, while we drummed our drums and jollied to their, intonation. The way they dressed, the way they addressed us Made us mime to the harmony and yearns in their speeches of a dawn to civility and hale: that was a start of the course of slavery in Africa. We still thought they were our brothers, because our chiefs rolled floridly with their proposals While we were mockingly disposed of In the field, or given to bespoken tailors as apprehends; as helps; in servitude; ‘posed to carry out orders as the come in flicks. We became babies in our own motherland we became cartage of their foreign plans. We cleared our huts so that they could find comfy and build on our strengths draining our tears as they wryly whipped us on our backs. Their wisdom their prowess They used to molest And we gazed in cluelessness Cause we still didn’t see it as slavery then – but as pain, so enjoyable....

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog