Jean Rhys

I think of the divided self of Jean Rhys in Dominica, her invisible self in London, and the depth, scope, scale of her writing: What was achievable in her lifetime is achievable now, the winter’s tale of Jean Rhys, and her tragedy of errors, of losing a child, and her failed marriages. She was a…

Black Queen

Ayo sis! Why do u still let him Let him hit you Smug you Belittle you Oh I don’t like your hair babe That handsome baritone voice man says U ain’t that pretty babe you need make up Don’t embarrass me That man you call half be says Sis Nooooo! Hes no man! He’s a…

Rebel Queens

Milky waters crawl down my fingers As I discover layer after layer Of flesh Of tightness Of beauty My garden wets as I gaze at her delicately sculptured folds Her fruit bursts with juices and flavor I snake lower charmed by her feminine aroma Lips plant kisses on petals Beautiful black petals, pink on the…

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…

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…

Mother’s Touch

In the village compound which was cleanly swept and tidy a compound not easily accessible by road a group of old women sat huddled together. Sticks and pipes jutted out of their mouths which occasionally moved in unison. A sigh here and a look to the sky up here. Some sat with their chins in…

Dear African Woman

Dear African Woman If I haven’t told you that you are beautiful, you are If I haven’t told you that your smile is lovely, it is If I havent told you that your dark skin is more beautiful than the night sky, it is Dear African Woman Only you can understand what it means to…

Self-Negotiation

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…

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…

Natural Woman

When was the last time you felt the warm scalp of a woman Run your fingers through her hair Twisted her natural locks through your fingers Or walked your fingers through the rows of braids Just like walking through the fields of corn When did you see the true beauty of your African Woman? Or…