I Forgive You

I forgive you for the silence you become in the face of awkwardness, anger and emotions. I forgive you for sometimes abandoning me when I need you the most. I forgive you for that time when I was seven years old when you disappeared. I forgive you for not remembering the things you need to…

Sponging

Maybe you will be a chronicle that none reads Except the one who makes the entry Or you will be a Facebook post Few will skim through Their fingers automated To click the like button. I don’t know and cannot tell And don’t care what you will turn out to be Because all I need…

Remember The Days, Big Butt?

I remember the days when they called me Big Butt, imitated my walk, and stared. “Do you walk like that on purpose?” Today, they hold the titles for the biggest butts in show business, Australia, the world. The day they smelled chocolate. I said it was cocoa butter and they exclaimed, “Why would you put…

Piece of advice

Don’t give feelings names Don’t name your moods Don’t give it anything that will make it seem even more real don’t humanize it We get more attached to things when we name them, but without truly understanding what they are, we make our own misery from scratch  Because sometimes we find ourselves calling for it…

Ellipsis

I am a poem unfinished. A color that was not good enough for the rainbow. A desert that never knew what a sunflower feels like in its soil. I am a coral reef that was touched and lost its vibrant colors. I am everything that is nothing. I am rubble of everything dismantled. I am…

Priscilla Ayuen

Priscilla Ayuen is 22 years old, she studies Business and Management Science at the University of Juba. Her pen name is Wingless Bird, a name she cherishes and means a lot to her, although she doesn’t use it when introducing herself on stage, where she is always and  completely herself. A stage she wants to…

Unmarried

Mama said I atemy husbands.Seasoned themwith my saltyattitude andboiled them ina black pot onthe night of thewaning moon. She claims thatmy saggy beastsare an attestationto my disgraceas a womanand my mortarisn’t fit forpounding groundnuts. My body isa fictional tale.She claims thatI’m not fitto lay on the groundthat holds thesemen of myancestors.My complaintsunder the sunare equivalentto…

Poetra Ama Asantewa Diaka

Poetra Ama Asantewa Diaka is as a young and combative Ghanaian artist, living between the African country and the US. She doesn’t want to be boxed into the definition of “poet” or “writer” – she rather describes herself as a “storyteller“, since the term “encompasses all the ways she can tell a story” – as…

About Development

They tripped over that strange opaque place Lunged, twisted, and nearly fell on their face Gained ground on a rebound and then Fled from the potential site of their fall from grace This is the pattern repeated often, Never explained but should not be forgotten Not by those who witness the chasm Between the have’s…

This is not a feminist poem

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…