Vanessa Chisakula

Vanessa Chisakula is a Zambian poet, who first discovered her writing wits after becoming a mother. She uses poetry as a tool to advocate for women’s rights and to address social issues like mental health. Vanessa believes in a world where art can bring a change by bridging divides and conveying the youth’s creative potential…

Lip Prayer

Your lips are mine and mine are yours. May my lips forever glorify and honour you. May my lips be truthful to you. May my lips calm your blazing brow and bring healing to your aching muscles. May my lips mop up your tears. May my lips dry the sweat of your toil, from your…

Be the Dream

It might take more than a decade for you to reach your dreams Maybe half a century for you to rewrite the narrative and swim against the stream You determine the rise and fall of this era so don’t stay on the sidelines be part of the team Do the SWOT thing so you dont…

Since you attended my funeral, I’ll also attend yours

Since you attended my funeral, I’ll also attend yours I’ll arrive just before the coffin Enters the church And join the line of weepers. Weepers, mind you, not mourners. Weeping is the physical evidence for facebook That people actually cared about you. But mourning… Mourning is the spiritual evidence That people actually cared about you….

The River

The riverThe unlimited waterThe beauty of natureDark in the night, blue in the day but am colourlessHow well I have been shapedHow soft I have been createdBigger than water but smaller in quantityI conduce smaller things like pinbut carry bigger things like ferryI Am welcomingI create power but reject powerThe river is my nameThose that…

Black List

Merge discrete metals to smithereens blacksmith who ain’t black and don’t smith Black Africa a golden ring with a diamond a diamond ring with a golden rim? I am Black not because I am African Black is what I feel an explicit soul speaking lingo a never melting candle lighting deeper character Africa is my…

Her Place

Her place was in a four-walled room called kitchen  Broken dishes were the order of the day She had mastered the scents of the various nail breaking dish washing liquids she struggled with every time she tried to scrub the dirt away In this kitchen She was brought down to the level of a dishwasher…

A self portrait

This is a portrait of a woman that was born in pain… and is longing for change… A woman with a rough kind of beauty… a one not easy to pick up, hidden behind all the easy common ugly… A rebel kind of woman… so much rebel it got me getting out of heaven doors……

Social media love

Babes, Please I beg, Let us not waste time on grammar! The time between is too short to waste on long words, Want to is- Wanna and Going to is-Gonna Here we are, Fingering gadgets, Whatsupping, instead of twerking. Snapchatting instead of freaking each other, Groping clefts of throbbing flesh and skin Babes, Do not…

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…