THE BODY OF AN AFRICAN WOMAN

I am thrilled to share this poem with you all because I found WorldPulse to be home for the homeless. WorldPulse is the first to have this piece. This piece is from new poetry book that I am working on. We are lucky people!

Read it aloud so you may feel the sweet pain of the poem.

I see the body of an African woman stretching far and wide

Like the sound of village festival drums

It is in the sun like a solar panel

Saving power to light up its children’s future

This body was born clean, soft, and smooth as the palms of a newborn baby

This body has been provoked by poverty, illiteracy, and senseless war

It was left alone on a rough road to cry and bleed and face death

The deep scars on this body speak about a hard life

The struggle to survive and challenge impossibilities

This body does not put on make-up to seduce a man

It does not stay at home to be romanced by idleness and abject suffering

In the day this body does not rest, neither sleep

It is always in a hurry like a hunter’s dog

In the night tiredness mocks this body as it nods

I wish I could save its breath from breaking midnights

Selling nothing but groundnuts, cola nuts and pepper

It travels in any condition to earn a bowl of food

This body revolves in the orbit of the world

It wheels on to escape failure until the graveyard calls it

The body of an African woman is seriously sad

It does not sing a sweet song for such a humble soul

I see it aspiring to amplify the voice of freedom

It needs a song of hope

I pray the world sings in solidarity with the bodies of all women