A Prologue
(Written after Gachugau’s ‘Promenade’)
Certain thoughts are brutal to
my own fears
I am a traveller at night, I write
the night with every face I met
In a sense, I am either my poems
or the man talking in my poems.
To A Fat Woman by Her Lover
My woman wears her pudding well
ever faithful, ever knowing
one rod and one pestle
her anger lives in pointed fingers
and silent chuckles of grown stares.
My woman loves her lover well
but who else will love her
when she carries the
world’s troubles in her breast
yet missing so much in her heart?
When her body knows
the shape of shame?
When her thighs are twice
the size of guilt?
But my love for her is a kiss,
a kiss ever knowing that
kisses are external,
my love for her is a love
a love ever knowing that
love is internal
Your words should be heard by every Black/African woman who has to contend with the world’s ideals of her imperfection since the dawn of time. Thank you for your beautiful words. peace…
Thank you, Makeba. I appreciate.
I love your writing, I hope you can come to read some of your poems to us at the women Rosh Chodesh circle.
love,
Hilla
Impressed, congratulations from Toronto
i love that poem..its rich in words as well as there significance.
kudos Wale