I've lost my father more than a year ago
It should be enough time to mourn, no?

I loved him with all my heart
And just like that he was taken out of
The only realities I've ever known

Yes, death is indeed inevitable
But is it fair to make us love something so ever dearly
To just rip it out of our grasp
In such short notice and in such swift torment

I loved him with all my heart
And my eyes will never shed enough tears
For a man that created a spectacle of all the other men
that had, has and will ever enter my life
And I'm unable to show my mother
This pain I feel

She's sitting in her room listening to the old
Warmth and lovingness in Michael Bolton's voice
As she cries to her heart's content and
She reminisces all the glorious times they've had
Ignorant to how I'd feel hearing the agony in her throat

I loved him with all my heart
To be selfish and to be selfless at the same time

And I love her with all my heart
To let her see the strongest and the most resilient
Version of her daughter

-fir.m

mama, i made someone happy yesterday!
i smiled as the door opened
              just as i always did
it was my first time to be chosen
    to be honest i was so nervous
they made me try out so many clothes
they said i had to look as pretty as i should
         they said they were trying to bring out
         my youthful look...
i never thought that meant
     more skin.
     more chest.
     more legs.
              he was an old man
wrinkles ravaged round his face
yet his smile had no blemish
          he stared at me
          and chose me almost immediately
i was never more proud
yet i was clueless of what next to do
    i should have wrote to you as early as then
         but as soon as
       we arrived
                          at my 'new home'
                or at least that was how he called it
   he called me to his room
            he nearly had to kneel
            in order to see me
                eye
                to
                eye
      i thought he was going to hug me
      as he leaned in
                                 he just undid my bra
            his hands were huge
            they cover almost my whole chest
he asked me to take of my shorts
        and he was smiling
   for once i knew
              i was doing something right
i barely slid my undergarment off and he pressed me against the unsuspecting bed
       he grabbed both my legs
                    as he told me to open them
              while he tole me to close my eyes
    he started
          pushing against me
      it was so so hard             so painful
relentless      excrutiating            i had to
                 bite my tongue to stop myself
         from screaming
               i think i was bleeding?
           i felt the blood pour out
                        i couldn't take it.
    i couldn't ask him to calm down
               it was just way too fast
he was panting                breathing heavily
         grunting         driving himself too hard
    it was like he could run out of breath
                       i wanted to make him stop
i really did
                   trust me.
            but as soon as i tried to shout
      or help him or something
                he fell over
          don't worry though he was still breathing
                           and his face
he just looked way too happy
           i was paralyzed the rest of the day
     until now i can barely stand up
                    but he was just so in bliss
       i hope you're proud of me mama.
              he said earlier he'd be taking me back
to the warehouse later
            i don't know why though.
     do you think he'll tell them i've been
         a good daughter?
                   i hope so.

Speak African child, speak. for you poses a  mouth that heals nations. It is in thine voice in the vibrations of thy mouth that remedies are provided to our ailments.

speak African child, speak. speak against the calamities that befall your land. speak against that hand that he dare raises against your bare skin. speak against the blood of your brothers spilled to please others.

Speak for  Africa that is one and united, Africa that does not know of any racial divides. Africa that knows no skin colour. speak African child speak. for you are the voice of liberation. speak  for your voice are the echoes of our ancestors.

child labour, human trafficking, child *******, school violence, femicides, suicides. and you say you see this not.  African child where is your voice in all of this. doesn't that skin, that accent and ***** hair mark you as of African descent.

Speak African child speak for you bare the answers to our questions, you bare the sole of our history.

After anything. Anybody.
Assuaged about all anger.
Anything! Anytime!
and after all, anybody.
Anything.
About anger.
About apathy
About all agape anger, aged about angst.
After anything afterall.
All.
Anything.
About anything.
About anybody.
Always.
And Always.

I’ve always had a fear of water that’s deep
I remember my fright in the city pool
how I made friends with the shallow end
how close to the sides I’d keep.
I still recall that curved stone edge
how my fingers held on and I felt a fool
being so scared when the other kids
would jump in the deep end with joy
how I felt like such a silly scardy boy
and I envied their abandon and grit
the big splash when their cannonball hit.

But it’s true my daddy was never there
to teach me to swim
to help when I came up coughing for air.
Oh man, how I could have used him
and his strong arms to hold me
and show me the breast stroke
slap my back when I choked.

Now I still thirst for a father
when I get afraid of the deep water.
The difference is now I’ve got a dad
who’s always there when I’m afraid or sad.
In fact I look forward to the dive
into the deep where I’m so alive
centered and at peace.
But I’m still learning to let go and release
the edge of that deep pool
and breathe in the depths… of spirit fuel.