The thought of physical contact has begun to scare you again. 1. One morning, in the middle of breakfast making, your mother’s relative reaches out and grabs at your breast. Your mind trips into your memory and you are seven years old and another woman is playing x and o’s with your privates. 2. Maybe…
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…
But How Can I Be Me?
I am not who I want to be The only person in my way is me The lives of the ‘amour propre’ I see But how can I be me? I don’t want to die an arm candy I really want to be happy Happiness without being sappy But how can I be me? But…
Portrait of a Girl at the Border Wall
All the women in my life are hungry I have written this one hundred times. I do not know how else to tell it: the girl by the roadside, the bruised peach, the narrow collar, the night full of birds. Her body is a long river that cuts through every room. See her in the…
The Mirror
I look in the mirror. My reflection I expect to see. But what I see is not my reflection. What I see is truth! An image blurred with pain. The sorrows of the world. The troubles we face. Told as a story by the mirror. The stories. Never spoken. Yet, told in detail. By the…
Treason
How do I plead? Guilty. Today I committed treason. My eyelids separated before the birds could disturb the tranquility of the dark right after the morning stars stood bright and firm. I took my gun a BIC well-oiled with blue ink and my dog eared notebook and boom! I killed you Mr. President emptying seven…
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…
The Express Song
Broadcast live on your tv screens Away from the tear gas Inhaled on our behalf By journalists Professors clamour Claiming deprived salaries On our screens we view Fist fights on Parliament floors And we ask Will our Democracy Grow? We ought to know This is not a permanent flaw When words flow We only avoid…
Threshold (For my sisters rejecting FGM)
I am seventeen The moon giggles shyly and caresses the skies Sipi Falls cascade in a wave of excitement. I waltz with the falls downstream A tinge of warmth engulfs me My feet rub… My future. The village awakes It is the rite season The search… She descends with a knife I grip my tears…