Blackgirl

  I have written of tales  Of sadness and despair Of pain and suffering Of light and love and joy And dancing And lustful passion but never Have I written of what it’s like To be broken by the ones you trust and love And who you’d hope would fight for you Whose arms you thought would give warmth and solace  And would shield from hurt The ones they say stick closer than brothers Nobody ever speaks of the shattering of heart, mind and soul And every shard of being, minced When they stick that spear in  And grace your heart with pepper The levels of pain inexplicable As gone is both friend and trust You open, vulnerable, splayed like A lab rat for all to infer Because you gave your heart to that one person

 First of all Happy New year!! I have wanted to post this for a while but I just thought to wait till the new year and give a positive message to kick off the year. Learning to love comes from within, love in relationships or friendship. When you understand that loving others comes from loving yourself, acknowledging your whole, even the parts you don’t like or want people to see. When you are able to admit that everyone has shortcomings and stop looking at yourself through other people's mirror you’ll breathe easy, as someone said a lot of times we look at ourselves the way we think people see us and not as we see us. Trying to put yourself up to someone’s mirror will only give heartache. Learning to love is one of the most difficult things to do, I mean how can I love my little butt when the world says big jiggly butts are better but love is knowing that the little butt serves it’ s purpose of sitting and you define what pretty or sexy means to you. A smart man once s...

It has been a long time, a lot of things has happened, a lot has been done. But I'm grateful i'm still here and able to still write. I never stopped writing just blogging, I have been offline since the beginning of the year and i'm back now, hopefully for good. Thanks for sticking with me. Our fatherland of bleakness  Of tears and pain Land of endless inopportunities Broken ladders of success Rot of booming streams Broken sense of hope  Lost ambitions, dead dreams Filled with could-haves and would-haves Helper of the rich, stomper of the triers and dreamers Darkness surrounding ambitions Constant call for help Shoving the honest Embracing the pockets The recycled, recycling and re-use of past Lost in past glory When shall new doors open When shall light come and unhibited  laughter fill our mouths O fatherland we long.

This piece is dear to my heart because it was inspired by someone close to my heart. This is me saying “ YOU WILL BE FINE”  and “ YOU WILL COME OUT ON TOP”  Stay strong. Left alone, No home No place where the heart belongs Foundation's in two separate places Each trying to form a new root Now you’re stuck in the center With no firm balance Swaying left and right Struggling for nutrients No one looks back To see if you made it Barely holding on But yet thriving and striving Looking out for the sun To help you up So you can look back And sigh in relief and joyfulness With your now firm root and strong foundation That’s all yours

Hiiii, so I have a confession,  I AM A FEMINIST , how stupid does that sound, that in this day and time that has to be a declaration but sadly it is, given the comments and shocked looks I get when they find out I am. Just like a while back I was with a friend and we were discussing marriage I think and then I said I don’t think it’s compulsory to get married and then she was like  “Ah, I hope you have not joined those feminism people’’, I was shocked but I still said “ err , I am a feminist’’. Then she went into a talk, the whole time she was speaking you’d  think I joined a cult or a militant group.  In a way I can’t blame her as a lot of people still think a whole  lot of things when they hear feminism; ·         They think we hate men ·         They think we are against marriages ·         They think it’s about who cooks or does chores. ...

This piece is inspired by the kids I see on a regular in major markets in Accra. A lot of them  female, barely speaking English and not in school.     At the break of light Up, work starts Assembling, collecting Cleaning tools of service Vessels of steel, made for lifting Constant carrying, constant movement All to make dime for daily bread Scorching sun and rainy days  Never derails our helping hands Little bodies, heavy load Dark skin, sweat beads, flowy skirts Up and down Making business Night comes, loads go We clear our vessels Make beds at roadsides Our makeshift homes For tomorrow comes, When we shall again rise Hurdling and gathering at selling stops To use our vessels to lift others burdens