Melanin Queen

Her hands by her sideHead downShoulders dropped and eyes fixed on an unknown prizeShe snails by in fearFear of pointing fingers and heart breaking laughterThose words like a butcher’s knife swimsthrough her melancholic melanin skin She wonders if Odomankoma painted her in hasteShe has blood for tearsShe is her mother’s dreamThat moment form the womb,…

Alith Cyer Mayar

Alith Cyer Mayar is a writer, poem and activist. She was born in 1997 in Khartoum, Sudan, and grew up in different places as Uganda and South Sudan. She attendend the Sudan Academy for Medical and Technological Studies training as a nurse. During that time, she volunteered for different hospitals and clinics. In the meanwhile…

An Aquafer

I’m a solid rusty ground My chest A magma kind of rock But deep underneath it I’m an aquifer That runs a thousand feet deep Roaring silently Swirling quietly Like a tornado Waiting to come to surface An endless sea that takes off the land To evacuate no more Link to the Italian translation

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…

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…

Good Morning Kampala

Clouds are racing above Kampala Sunrise peeps from the head of its hilly protrusions. Suddenly, rapid gun fire exchange invades our atmosphere Heavy feet scamper to find footing on our broken roads “Hooligans are demanding for change!” They say. Arrows of rain armed with hail stones join in the human pelting But you Rain where…

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…

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…

The Searching Cheats

Whirl of the wind Sing decades of familiar tunes Encroaching voices of old whispering stories untold Cold the breeze our bodies Freeze The Misplaced Birds they say they wail “We have lost our way” We are to show them their way We? We point They screech “Where?!” We point again And again Then we tell…

My Crush, for Many Years

Melanin ambience, 6’3, broad chest, well defined arms wet round scarlet puckered lips, enlivenly gleamy eyes I looked at him as he walked my way The appearance of the earth in the galaxy like a band of light seen in the night’s skies and formed from the stars which cannot be distinguished with the naked…