MIF21Inspired Poetry and Pieces

 

Precious Life (inspired by Maisha Kungu and the event Looking Forward To Tomorrow)

 Precious life, invaluable essence,

We come from a land of queens and peasants,

We’ll share our knowledge of our melanin roots,

Infused with passion, violence and truth,

You can look away if you dare,

Our shackles of gold are ones we proudly bare,

In order to take back our stories,

Stolen before birth,

Of our rights to decide, to put ourselves first,

It’s more than skin deep,

The scars that are left,

In the wake of hatred and words left unsaid,

This back though straight, has carried the weight of power, purpose and dignity,

Yet you still feel you have the right to question me,

My body carries the creative, I transcend the planes to dance my tale,

Be Bewitched as I cast my spell,

Breathe with me, heal with me, walk with me,

I have much to see, to ask, and stories to tell,

Some of which I shall keep for myself.

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The Blackness Is Not Bleak creative writing session

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Black Joy

Black joy comes from dancing alone in my kitchen,

Herbs and heat arising,

As the volume ascends,

Earth, Wind and Fire, give me freedom,

To move,

To celebrate these little moments,

I share my joy,

Unhinged by tears of anger,

As I look away from the pain and the mistreatment,

My father’s voice echoing in my head “It’s not your job to carry the weight of the world’s problems on my shoulders,

My mother’s voice follows “It’s your job to do all things with love, take your time and do things well, remember to breathe.”

My laughter is colourful, happiness simple, nature, nurture,

Ponds of water,

Weaving in between the cityscapes,

And hiding in the alcoves of movement ,

My joy is silent as I listen to your victories,

Your hopes, your dreams,

I’ll cry for you when you can’t,

When you wish you could,

My joy is my right to share,

To invite others to look through the kaleidoscope of wonder

 

 

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Adventure

·         Looks: Skipping in the rain to somewhere unknown

·         Sounds: Birds, cars and bicycle bells. Shouting, singing, heartbeat of a city

·         Smells: Cut grass and blooming railroad vine flowers

·         Taste: Mouthwash and a dry throat.

 

Festival Square

·         Looks: Like families of every creed, shape and colour, couples on a date, Insta perfect, despite the rain clouds that occasionally hover

·         Sounds: Meditation bells, cellos echoing across the field telling us to shake it off, Groove ends the night as Luther tells us it’s never too much

·         Smells: Craft beer with burgers and chips

·         Tastes: Like a mint mocktail and spicy tofu burger

 

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