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…
Beauty in Brokenness
Write about your brokenness This is what My heart whispers to me every time I try to create something beautiful. How ironic because most of my life I’ve been trying to find wholeness so I can finally feel beautiful. But what is beauty? Is there a formula that determines what we can classify as beautiful?…
For the blues
It’s 4am and you’re awake like your body’s been paged. You’re wondering if it will be worth it to sleep for 30 more minutes before starting your day. They’re playing a senseless song on the radio and it feels like such a waste of airplay. So you tuck yourself in to rest your brain. You’re…
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…
This Loose Upon My Eyes
This loose upon my eyes Held tight in shape by society’s lies Reduced me to help Reduced me to help This loose upon my eyes Which society likes Trying to put these turkeys above me I am weak, I am starved, they might make a Panda of me They like me in this mud He…
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…
Micropoems
Beauty There is beauty in stubbornness. in falling down, and picking yourself up Is it not the rising and falling of the waves that keeps the Ocean alive? ****** Find Yourself I provide you with water in a bowl, kneeling with love, Waiting for you to sip it all. Something about the way you Sip…
I Am Black
You look at me and see: Black African Evil. You turn up your nose and like a pig you snort… Or is it a sneer? Or maybe… just maybe… as you scurry away like a cockroach do you wonder what I am? I am Black I am African A child of the continent you once…
Oh, Woman
Woman, I see a woman Everyday in the mirror I see a woman And anytime I look at mama I see a woman Wonderful woman, an African woman, mother of nature Yeeea yea Beautiful woman, Yeeea yea Beautiful woman, Yeeea yea Yeeea yea…Yeeea yea… And so the storyteller tells his tales His tales of an…