Mothers Sing a Lullaby

(after the 1994 Rwandan genocide) Mothers sing a lullaby As the dark descends on trees Shutting out shadows. The sensuous voices swish and swirl Around shrubs and overgrown grass Hiding mountains of decapitated dead And the glint of machetes That slashed shrieking throats. In these camps without happiness Mothers maintain the melody of life Capturing…

Take me to the river

We say “take me to the river”but what the river wants is the body of a stonethe kind of stillness that can be worn.It runs from its destructive natureand we run to its healing waters. What the mouth wants is wetnessa torrent of forgivenessto baptise flesh with abandon. We sing of the rivers of Babylonand…

Circle of women

Your head is a hiveyou are not sure you will survive.Women form a circle around youIn their eyes, your stories flow like The Nile.They collect themand hand you the cup.         Go aheadthey saybut you hesitate.        It’s okaythey sayand you receive. You raise the cup to your lipsand pass…

Tied and Untied

I wrestle with my-self, With a battle of the mind which never ends, A race of thoughts which never Fades, I wrestle with the spirits in me Which feeds me doubts, Spitting darkness and unveiling lies, Tearing down hope With strange rhymes, Rhymes with strange rhythms, Rhythms which plucks my peace, Sabotaging my inner strength…

Do I have what it takes?

I am walking barefoot with my head hung On edge of my fears, Daunted in the color of my skin, Dodging bullets that come towards me, But I feel riddled with holes, With a rumble on my chest Sneaking in doubts and question marks, Causing cracks on chest Tanks, But the drums on my my…

Black Queen

Ayo sis! Why do u still let him Let him hit you Smug you Belittle you Oh I don’t like your hair babe That handsome baritone voice man says U ain’t that pretty babe you need make up Don’t embarrass me That man you call half be says Sis Nooooo! Hes no man! He’s a…

Soul Approval

I’m here to tell you a story about a woman who hated herself Not because she was poor or ugly Not because she was orphaned or homeless But she just did And I’m here to tell you a story about a man who hated his life He dreaded every moment of it Woke up each…

The Gloria/Ascension

My darkest moments are those leading to my success,a hesitation where I question – do I deserve this?where my ambition drains like a time lapse in reverseand I set out to seek a great perhaps through verse. Notes tuck themselves back into books,passages fold themselves into memoriesmy tongue reabsorbs every spoken wordwhich precipitates into a…

Jean Rhys

I think of the divided self of Jean Rhys in Dominica, her invisible self in London, and the depth, scope, scale of her writing: What was achievable in her lifetime is achievable now, the winter’s tale of Jean Rhys, and her tragedy of errors, of losing a child, and her failed marriages. She was a…

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…