This is not a feminist poem This is not contorted metaphors with neither punch line nor chorus This is not a feminist poem It is a woman learning to trade possessions before her lover takes his last breath. She will never get the chance to say goodbye because those final hours are one match-point away…
Aria Deemie
At just 24 years old, one might not expect such acute awareness, such tangible sensitivity, capable of recounting raw and painful realities with clear, transparent, effective words. But we are in Liberia, and she belongs to a generation born while the second civil war was still raging, enduring its effects in the difficult civil and…
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…
Y’All Hear Me?
I know I will die on a cold winter morning. Winter withers me so it’s only fair that I believe my well worn weathered body Will wilt on such a day. Wrap me well, warmly. It’s the least you can do for a tropical wench Who died in a witheringly cold world. I will require…
The Man We Married
They say good girls go bad ‘cause bad guys don’t treat them right A good woman is as scarce as a dog’s tears And I remember Marriage was never meant to be a fight but a period to garnish our lives I hate that I once loved but now I detest But please don’t judge…
Dark Skin Blues
You said that I represented evil. The shadow of the night glistened on my skin. You blatantly associated me with tar because my melanin glowed under the sun. You said that my existence was a misrepresentation of beauty. So, you wrapped me under your arm like a clutch bag and led me through the dark…
Bessie’s Lament
“Wherever you go, please don’t forget to take care of your sisters and brothers. Remember that you have a suffering family that needs your help.” My parents woke me up early Sunday morning to pray for me and bid me farewell with pieces of advice during our family devotion. I’d leave later that day to…
Men-struation
You don’t know the history of my pain. I am Junub A woman in end-less men-struation Buying daily your pads to c-over and protect my skirt from stains I continue to bleed afr-aid to speak of my periods But now I say, “I am in pain, help me.” Silent guns shoot though…