{"id":2262,"date":"2017-11-07T13:49:31","date_gmt":"2017-11-07T13:49:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/?p=2262"},"modified":"2017-11-07T13:49:31","modified_gmt":"2017-11-07T13:49:31","slug":"the-cradle-ii-issue-8","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/the-cradle-ii-issue-8\/","title":{"rendered":"THE CRADLE II (ISSUE 8)"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<!-- WP QUADS Content Ad Plugin v. 1.7.8 -->\n<div class=\"quads-location quads-ad1\" id=\"quads-ad1\" style=\"float:none;margin:0px;\">\n\n <!-- WP QUADS - Quick AdSense Reloaded v.1.7.8 Content AdSense async --> \n\n<script async data-cfasync=\"false\" src=\"\/\/pagead2.googlesyndication.com\/pagead\/js\/adsbygoogle.js\"><\/script><script type=\"text\/javascript\" data-cfasync=\"false\">\nvar quads_screen_width = document.body.clientWidth;\nif ( quads_screen_width >= 1140 ) {\r\n\/* desktop monitors *\/\r\ndocument.write('<ins class=\"adsbygoogle\" style=\"display:block;\" data-ad-client=\"ca-pub-5983616716487778\" data-ad-slot=\"\" ><\/ins>');\r\n(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});\r\n}if ( quads_screen_width >= 1024  && quads_screen_width < 1140 ) {\r\n\/* tablet landscape *\/\r\ndocument.write('<ins class=\"adsbygoogle\" style=\"display:block;\" data-ad-client=\"ca-pub-5983616716487778\" data-ad-slot=\"\" ><\/ins>');\r\n(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});\r\n}if ( quads_screen_width >= 768  && quads_screen_width < 1024 ) {\r\n\/* tablet portrait *\/\r\ndocument.write('<ins class=\"adsbygoogle\" style=\"display:block;\" data-ad-client=\"ca-pub-5983616716487778\" data-ad-slot=\"\" ><\/ins>');\r\n(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});\r\n}if ( quads_screen_width < 768 ) {\r\n\/* phone *\/\r\ndocument.write('<ins class=\"adsbygoogle\" style=\"display:block;\" data-ad-client=\"ca-pub-5983616716487778\" data-ad-slot=\"\" ><\/ins>');\r\n(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});\r\n}<\/script>\n\n <!-- end WP QUADS --> \n\n\n<\/div>\n<p><strong>THE CRADLE II (ISSUE 8)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>THE STAINS ON OUR CLOTHES |\u00a0Adaeze M. Nwadike<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The stains on our clothes can talk<\/p>\n<p>They tell of our mothers who we buried on board<\/p>\n<p>And of our fathers whose corpse remained bones<\/p>\n<p>Before we got off shore<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The stains on our clothes speak<\/p>\n<p>They speak of inter-continental dust<\/p>\n<p>That has stolen into the fibers of our robes<\/p>\n<p>Leaving us in doubt on the real color of our clothes<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The stains on our daughters are monthly flows<\/p>\n<p>That received no care<\/p>\n<p>Because our women preferred to please strangers<\/p>\n<p>Who smiled as they gazed at blood<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The stains on mother\u2019s blouse<\/p>\n<p>Are left by constant tears<\/p>\n<p>That dripped<\/p>\n<p>And dripped<\/p>\n<p>Till they bleached her blouse<\/p>\n<p>Tears that washed her<\/p>\n<p>When her sons forgot the trail that led home<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The stains on our clothes scream of struggles that may never end<\/p>\n<p>They are like ink on plane sheet<\/p>\n<p>Echoing our past before we talk<\/p>\n<p>And our clothes are the webs of a careful spider<\/p>\n<p>Trapping our stories in nets of cotton and silk<\/p>\n<p>Echoing them to anyone who cares<\/p>\n<p>And these stains refuse to wash off<\/p>\n<p>No matter how hard we scrub<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg\"><img data-attachment-id=\"2264\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/the-cradle-ii-issue-8\/fb_img_1509921267678\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?fit=720%2C969&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"720,969\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"FB_IMG_1509921267678\" data-image-description=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?fit=223%2C300&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?fit=720%2C969&amp;ssl=1\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-2264 size-thumbnail\" src=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678-150x150.jpg?resize=150%2C150\" alt=\"FB_IMG_1509921267678\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?resize=350%2C350&amp;ssl=1 350w, https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?zoom=2&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/FB_IMG_1509921267678.jpg?zoom=3&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px\" data-recalc-dims=\"1\" \/><\/a>Adaeze M. Nwadike<\/strong> writes from Nsukka where she is completing a B.Ed\/Eng. She was shortlisted in the 2016 Nigerian Students Poetry Prize. She was also in the BN Poetry long list in 2015, and was 3rd prize in poetry for the muse journal in the same year. She is currently working on a collection of poems.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>***<\/p>\n<p><strong>BETRAYAL |\u00a0Ayangbenro Michael Ayobami <\/strong><\/p>\n<p>staring into the eyes of what breaks your heart<br \/>\nis a tragic lesson\u00a0for your saddened eyes.<\/p>\n<p>first, it was your skin:<br \/>\nbeing born into the right place at the wrong time<br \/>\nfighting survival&#8217;s war in your mother&#8217;s skin &amp;<br \/>\ntrying to wander in your father&#8217;s skin<br \/>\nlike a skin disease.<\/p>\n<p>second, it was your tongue peeling itself<br \/>\nlike the chords in poem<br \/>\nwhy?<br \/>\nhe promised another lady your haven,<br \/>\nafter series of meetings you&#8217;ve had,<br \/>\nand suffering like Jezebel.<\/p>\n<p>the other, is seeing the bond go weak like hydrogen&#8217;s,<br \/>\nthey promised each other before your world<br \/>\nfor better for worse, for now for eternity,<br \/>\nfables<br \/>\nphilandering lies<br \/>\nsnake promises<br \/>\nsnitch!<\/p>\n<p>the framework of the society is deceit,<br \/>\nlike stooling eyes in <em>Sambisa\u00a0<\/em><br \/>\nplastered by Judases<br \/>\nfor silver,<br \/>\nlust<br \/>\ngreed<br \/>\nsex and<br \/>\nthe unknowns.<\/p>\n<p>some boys are fighting molestation<br \/>\nthey can&#8217;t live with the soul they defiled,<br \/>\nthe body is a cynosure for war<br \/>\na girl is not known by virginity again<br \/>\nin places like borno, kano, anambra<br \/>\nand other places<br \/>\nbut by offerings of offspring<\/p>\n<p>These destinies are playgrounds for betrayals,<br \/>\nlike daffodils, they look the garden in the eyes<br \/>\nand recite prayers in silence,<br \/>\ngood or bad<br \/>\nfor a seed that&#8217;s already sown.<\/p>\n<p>A land grows into another silence<br \/>\nlike recession &amp;<br \/>\nit comes out panting in bones<br \/>\nand flesh.<\/p>\n<!-- WP QUADS Content Ad Plugin v. 1.7.8 -->\n<div class=\"quads-location quads-ad2\" id=\"quads-ad2\" style=\"float:none;margin:0px;\">\n<script async src=\"\/\/pagead2.googlesyndication.com\/pagead\/js\/adsbygoogle.js\"><\/script>\r\n<script>\r\n  (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({\r\n    google_ad_client: \"ca-pub-5983616716487778\",\r\n    enable_page_level_ads: true\r\n  });\r\n<\/script>\n<\/div>\n\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg\"><img data-attachment-id=\"2263\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/the-cradle-ii-issue-8\/img_20170824_090809\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?fit=1408%2C1408&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"1408,1408\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"IMG_20170824_090809\" data-image-description=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?fit=300%2C300&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?fit=790%2C790&amp;ssl=1\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-2263 size-thumbnail\" src=\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809-150x150.jpg?resize=150%2C150\" alt=\"IMG_20170824_090809\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?resize=300%2C300&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?resize=768%2C768&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?resize=1024%2C1024&amp;ssl=1 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?resize=350%2C350&amp;ssl=1 350w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/IMG_20170824_090809.jpg?w=1408&amp;ssl=1 1408w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px\" data-recalc-dims=\"1\" \/><\/a>Ayangbenro Michael Ayobami<\/strong> is a Nigerian writer and a Mathematical Sciences student of the Federal University of Technology Akure, Ondo state. Together with poetry, he is a bass player and a spoken word artist. He has his works on Kalahari Review among others.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>***<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>THE BEAUTIFUL ONES |\u00a0Martins Tomisin Olusola<br \/>\n<\/strong><br \/>\nRoused in the heart of night<br \/>\nI sit and stare<br \/>\nboiling in the rhythm of thought<br \/>\non this road,<br \/>\nlife lost,<br \/>\nlife saved,<br \/>\nbeauty flies by and by<br \/>\npain flies by and by<br \/>\nhope dashed against stones<br \/>\nstory meshed upon stories.<\/p>\n<p>Beforehand,<br \/>\nthey pop up like a raven<br \/>\nthat fed Elijah meat and bread<br \/>\nfeeding the myriad of people with wad.<\/p>\n<p>Under the gaze of sun,<br \/>\nthe throngs aligned on a longish axis<br \/>\nas if money is doled out<br \/>\nto assuage the flared-up sac<br \/>\nthere, mopping their perspiring brows<br \/>\nsome pressed in bladder,<br \/>\nsome pressed in the sac<br \/>\nto give ears to the callings<br \/>\nof the hawkers spicy, relished rice.<\/p>\n<p>When the day piggybacks its tasty honey,<br \/>\nthey fed fat till they ran out of money<br \/>\nthe world is there at their feet<br \/>\nyet, they are sit-tight patriot.<br \/>\nSkinny beggars of dough<br \/>\nlackey to their school-pundit, Judas Iscariot.<\/p>\n<p>Those who placed them<br \/>\non the golden throne-seat<br \/>\nare now confined to a wheelchair<br \/>\nwaiting, on and on<br \/>\ndancing <em>shoki<\/em><br \/>\nand painting the street light for gyration.<\/p>\n<p>The crabby cries:<br \/>\n<em>&#8220;where are the beautiful ones<br \/>\nare they yet to be fructified<br \/>\nare they still nipping at their<br \/>\nmother\u2019s nourishing coconut buttermilk<br \/>\nor probably still contemplating<br \/>\non their caravan to the world?&#8221;<br \/>\n<\/em><br \/>\nOh yes!<br \/>\nthe beautiful ones are here<br \/>\nwho play sweet smart in politics<br \/>\nwho put on the diamond-morning,<br \/>\nsilver sun-smile<br \/>\nwho paint the sky green and white<br \/>\nlike Nigeria\u2019s flag<br \/>\nthat does not give arms to the rustling wind?<br \/>\nHe is one who surrenders to the fear of his Maker.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg\"><img data-attachment-id=\"2072\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/from-the-blues-issue-7\/img_20170701_104404-2\/\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?fit=859%2C886&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"859,886\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;0&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"IMG_20170701_104404\" data-image-description=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?fit=291%2C300&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?fit=790%2C815&amp;ssl=1\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-2072 size-thumbnail\" src=\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1-150x150.jpg?resize=150%2C150\" alt=\"IMG_20170701_104404\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 150w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?resize=350%2C350&amp;ssl=1 350w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?zoom=2&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/IMG_20170701_104404-1.jpg?zoom=3&amp;resize=150%2C150&amp;ssl=1 450w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px\" data-recalc-dims=\"1\" \/><\/a><strong>Martins Tomisin Olusola<\/strong> is a student of Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ago-Iwoye, Ogun State where he has earned awards and recognition for his literary prowess. \u00a0Some of his poems have been published in numerous literary journals, magazines, and anthologies. He loves painting colourful rainbow-of-thoughts on paper.<br \/>\n&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n<!-- WP QUADS Content Ad Plugin v. 1.7.8 -->\n<div class=\"quads-location quads-ad3\" id=\"quads-ad3\" style=\"float:none;margin:0px;\">\n<script async src=\"\/\/pagead2.googlesyndication.com\/pagead\/js\/adsbygoogle.js\"><\/script>\r\n<script>\r\n  (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({\r\n    google_ad_client: \"ca-pub-5983616716487778\",\r\n    enable_page_level_ads: true\r\n  });\r\n<\/script>\n<\/div>\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>THE CRADLE II (ISSUE 8) THE STAINS ON OUR CLOTHES |\u00a0Adaeze M. Nwadike The stains on our clothes can talk They tell of our mothers&hellip; <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2264,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[346],"tags":[441,114,255],"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2009,"url":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/the-cradle-issue-7\/","url_meta":{"origin":2262,"position":0},"title":"THE CRADLE (ISSUE 7)","date":"July 2, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"THE CRADLE (ISSUE 7) MY SUNSET, FULL OF DAWN by\u00a0Balogun Olabode that day my father called me in and muttered i'd be really travelling; his words painted a pale-rural city, i emptied a reservoir of tears from my eyes. that sacred night my mother talked to me hinting how i\u2026","rel":"nofollow","context":"In \"The Cradle\"","img":{"src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":2258,"url":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/the-cradle-i-issue-8\/","url_meta":{"origin":2262,"position":1},"title":"THE CRADLE I (ISSUE 8)","date":"November 7, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"THE CRADLE I (ISSUE 8) TWO POEMS | Aire Joshua Omotayo A VERSE FOR MY COUNTRY\u00a0 our mother\u2019s womb was a page in a night\u2019s cloak, where no deer got to spew its ink, without seeking for headlights with torches of broken languages scattered across its mouth. her womb was\u2026","rel":"nofollow","context":"In \"The Cradle\"","img":{"src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":2306,"url":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/pinquarterlyjournal\/","url_meta":{"origin":2262,"position":2},"title":"PIN QUARTERLY JOURNAL (ISSUE 8)","date":"November 7, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"PIN QUARTERLY JOURNAL (ISSUE 8): EDITOR\u2019S NOTE Strokes & Scars \u00a0 When your skin becomes a pamphlet of scars drawn by strokes of unsavoury experiences, give a pen to your scars and let them draw countless savoury lines, assuaging your pain, grief and disillusionment. Devising overriding themes for the PIN\u2026","rel":"nofollow","context":"In \"Activities\"","img":{"src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2262"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2262"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2262\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2354,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2262\/revisions\/2354"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2264"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2262"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2262"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetsinnigeria.org.ng\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2262"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}