I Can’t Stop
image after image of ash, of smoke
of babies broken and split
of mothers wailing and wailing
and I refuse to look away,
refuse to give away
my humanity
I save nothing - 22/10/23
This is a place of terrible things.
We are terrible things.
When I look around me, I do not know what to save first,
in my dreams I see everything burn in the fire,
I save nothing, not even myself.
original sin - 09/10/23
There was once a girl whose father had heavy hands,
Now all the heavy hands in the world couldn't hurt her, move her, sway her.
all the lovers - 10/11/23
All the lovers are dead in Gaza.
I was made with the heart of a poet and so,
all I know to write
Is of love and flowers,
gentle touch and betrayal.
Reverberations
Ashes unnatural, missing marks of time
names scribbled hopefully instead
to be recited over and over by the living’s
attempts at resurrection
Triptych
The heat erupts on my skin
into buried bodies,
rubble engulfing their delicate bones
caring not if they are young or old
panicked echoes of their last breath,
chanting freedom songs,
trapped, their ashes now rise
haunting us all
I don’t see beauty where I used to
The moon, glowing in full, still inspires awe
But then I wonder,
Can they see the moon in Gaza?
Or are the skies too choked with smoke?
Is its glow overpowered by the flashing of bombs?
There is liberation in the groundswell
Not only are we the waves, but
we are the storm itself.
It is we who have storm winds spinning in our lungs
It is we who have salt stinging our eyes
It is we who have choppy seas nauseating our bellies.
It is we who are coming for those who think
their peace matters more
their peace requires violence
their violence is justified
their violence is the only one justified.
A New Day
A new day
To fight
To light the darkness
Save the Earth
I struggle to breathe
Carbon dioxide in the atmosphere
Continuously you feed.
I am living in fear.
Body
I wonder if you would still love her
If she had no body
No female physical attributes for you men to gaze at
No Instagram picture to hit the love button
Colour Me Black
Black child's mother says her ears gave it away
The hint of shame on an otherwise perfect face
I, My Grandmother
My grandmother seasoned Saturday soups with songs,
but never the ones from the land she left behind.
She anointed my scalp with oil,
plaited my hair with prayers,
spooned love with the chocho into my mouth.
gaze
don’t you dare break her gaze
don’t your dare break the chain
the stories must live on
we don’t exist
it has come to my attention that we don't exist
we the colourful the fluid the bold the open the rule benders…
A Triptych on My Queerness
Even after all these years
I still scared to say these words in public,
still caustous
to let Gay spilt my teeth open
being straight
being straight was like living in a closet
I didn’t know was a closet
some wealthy person’s closet
with enough room and variety
to convince me I wasn’t trapped
NESTED
My gratitude for your kindness was never expressed
For I was too young to be grateful
Too young to care, understand, or appreciate
You blessed three little girls of color
And valued their mother, a loyal worker for years
raíces
madre estas raíces no se pegan a nada
madre tu angustia no se quita con nada
Too LOUD
I spoke loud with my red dress on,
The one that had the split on the sides.
Yeah, that one.