I am walking barefoot with my head hung On edge of my fears, Daunted in the color of my skin, Dodging bullets that come towards me, But I feel riddled with holes, With a rumble on my chest Sneaking in doubts and question marks, Causing cracks on chest Tanks, But the drums on my my…
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…
Nyeri
I almost became that man’s second wifeI twisted my underwear here and thereI hynoptised myself that he was the oneI always thought of him. Whenever he sent me a text message“I suit you like the cover of a jerican”I would swing my hips to his tuneHe was my man. I waited for him at the…
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…
The Plead for Change
Change! Change! Change! There was no response Yet I plead for change not to change Growing up, I thought my generation and That of my children are going to be the best But now, I strummer and stagger Yes we all want change We don’t know weather The change will be positive or negative The…
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…
The Honey Pot
Amina soaps up her breasts, her thighs and her derriere Amina squats and washes her honey pot it doesn’t produce much honey these days Amina washes the suds from her hair and skin She has used the expensive rose-scented bath oil that Fiifi gave to her on her birthday He likes it Amina dries herself…
Roberta Turkson – Robbie Ajjuah Fantini
Roberta Turkson’s career in poetry started in 2011, as a way to drive the pain off her chest, after failing to fulfil the fondest dream of having her own traditional Ghanaian restaurant in Nashville. “With lots of time on my hands and pain in my heart, I took to writing which turned out to be…
I Am What Never Stops Trying
There is an unspoken evil, so proud and confident in this land— the one that took away our sons’ and daughters’ lives, made their spouses widowers and widows, their children orphans. The one we search for while peeping out our windows when it has already sneaked its way under our beds. The one installed in…
Pain: Who Am I?
Pain too has got beauty The beauty of pain is healing When healing comes Pain is remembered But Pain is not felt Pain too has got depth The depth of pain is lesson When lesson comes Pain is remembered Pain is felt Pain too has got malice The malice of pain is death When death…