You don’t know the history of my pain. I am Junub A woman in end-less men-struation Buying daily your pads to c-over and protect my skirt from stains I continue to bleed afr-aid to speak of my periods But now I say, “I am in pain, help me.” Silent guns shoot though…
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…
I traverse the world
I traverse this world as though As though I am not supposed to be here Not as a Christian with a view of her heavenly home No I traverse the world as though Permission must be granted Permission must be granted to sit in that spot Swim in that pool Of ignorance That paved open…
Know your worth
Every time I was denied a seat at the table, I did not rebel. I walked away. Every time I was refused entry into a circle, I did not protest. I chose the exit and never looked back. Every time my potential was downplayed, I neither relented nor fought for permission. Instead, I stepped into…
Mooncycles
My heart is broken fragments disintegrate into sand laid upon a beautiful beach. As my moon creates tidal waves to wash me away. What once intertwined between my licorice laced thighs? Now matted and sharp thorns grow there, where my love once lay to blossom. I am rotten. Heart wrenched like torn ligaments on strange…
Take me to the river
We say “take me to the river”but what the river wants is the body of a stonethe kind of stillness that can be worn.It runs from its destructive natureand we run to its healing waters. What the mouth wants is wetnessa torrent of forgivenessto baptise flesh with abandon. We sing of the rivers of Babylonand…
Abigail George
Abigail George is a South-African feminist, poet and writer based in Port Elizabeth. Born in 1979, she is a prolific writer: she has written a novella, several books of poetry and collections of short stories. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and the recipient of two South African National Arts Council Writing Grants and of one from the Centre for…
I Love Home
For those people who find laughter Such company Laugh like they are falling apart Or coming loose With tears gliding down their cheeks And these days all this on A mobile phone. For laughter that soars Echoing in every nook For laughter sprayed On blossoming bushes For laughter that escapes out of caves Rising to…
Acholi Chants
Alokolum yee!Where we sitKnit table clothesThese days we chant dirges in EnglishAcholi has become too difficultWe speak Acholi with a twang like we are speaking English The English do not chant dirges in AcholiThe English do not speak AcholiBut us, we speak English like we are eating sweet potatoes No one can defeat usWe defeat…
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…