Nusayba Alareer

You were a witness to a heinous atrocity of war, a crime against humanity Wildflowers in open spaces Wildflowers in closed spaces, in spaces that have been tampered with You lost a husband, your children lost a father, the world lost a poet I sit in my room and write this poem I, too, am…

Rebel Queens

Milky waters crawl down my fingers As I discover layer after layer Of flesh Of tightness Of beauty My garden wets as I gaze at her delicately sculptured folds Her fruit bursts with juices and flavor I snake lower charmed by her feminine aroma Lips plant kisses on petals Beautiful black petals, pink on the…

I traverse the world

I traverse this world as though As though I am not supposed to be here Not as a Christian with a view of her heavenly home No I traverse the world as though Permission must be granted Permission must be granted to sit in that spot Swim in that pool Of ignorance That paved open…

The wife of the born-again Christian husband in Kampala

The faithful wife of a born-again Christian husband is a baffled woman. She will slap her cheeks with a Bible So that she doesn’t laugh at the jokes of a pastor. After all her husband is supposed to provide all the humor that is necessary. She will hold her aching thighs together and pray for…

Beauty Knows No Shame

A new kind of beauty to embrace and to celebrate There’s no room for shame here There’s a power that pushes through from within There’s a power that will push out and bring my bloody insides with it… But that’s something of a pain that I’d love to succumb to in a natural, agony-sedating, physical…

Silent hate

“Am a man” he says, The first being Don’t forget you came from me and not me from you Keep your voice low Cry on the pillow Don’t let them know It’s a shame Just do this for me Very simple Cook for me Wash for me Part your legs for me And don’t even…

Jambula tree

When Sylvie and I are six we eat jambula till our tongues turn indigo then we travel home with night licking our heels. In the morning, our foreheads still anointed in violet blessings, we twine our stick-arms around its branches and stuff banana fibre dolls in the hollows of its roots. We swaddle make-believe babies…

Abigail George

Abigail George is a South-African feminist, poet and writer based in Port Elizabeth. Born in 1979, she is a prolific writer: she has written a novella, several books of poetry and collections of short stories. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and the recipient of two South African National Arts Council Writing Grants and of one from the Centre for…

Alright with me

Following the piper, Of smiles and laughter, Acknowledged, once the clutter Packed on your mind falters. By words of truth, Manifestations from Youth, An allegiance to trust in Freedom It’s the chime of love bells, On the highest altar. Link to the Italian version

The Ebony of Africa

There she stands like a eucalyptus Smiles but her inside is in solemnity In her, lives the sun that threatens the darkness Her teeth clarify the milk in the ajiu* The curves of her smiles So sharp to deforest ate a lad But deep in her Runs a river of turmoil Crucification is real She…