by Theresa Kufuor | Oct 24, 2022 | Poem
feel as light as a feather
My emotions seems to fly at any wind blowing direction…
I just can’t hold and control.
My screams are explosive and loud,
But no one ever wants to hear me out…
They claim they never heard me shout.
Anger boils through my heart with rage.
Piercing out with some partial self hate.
I’m being cuddled by fear and hurt and shame…
There’s so much to this pain.
But I just do my best to block this negativity out,
I’m almost numb to it…
I’ve been tortured and raped…
Each day he comes around,
His hard presence always feels closer and deeper.
Tearing fabrics like he is King Kong or some character from a vampire or possessed movie…
Pain pumping through my veins,
My heart beats sounds as good as the beats by *Drey* Like audible as connected to a Bluetooth device…
And 10 times faster.
My mouth is being covered, so is my breathe.
There’s always sweat and a package of goose bumps,
I always have to beg for his Mercy…
Don’t look at me like that, I promise I mean it…
And for the past years, I have been a slave to my memories…
Whipped and molested repeatedly,
Day after night…
Come on,
Society judged me
You judged me…
You beat my ears with your mouth,
But some days, the side effects of this mouth to ear thing recks me…
Cos you have no idea where I have been and what I’ve been through.
And for your info,
There’s nothing fun about doing something you never wish to be doing but have to,
Just to keep you alive and far away from the everyday pain…
I Know my dressing gives you the conclusive impression that,
*”She’s just a hore”*
And like other exposed women, I’m nothing.
But you don’t have to be wrong about that.
After all you never listened anyway.
And what’s the point in protecting what’s already broken…
I mean hiding what’s already stolen…
The flesh that’s already destroyed…
Well!
If only these bruises would show on my skin,
Like a three days old unfinished tattoo,
You would see just how much I hurt inside.
I have lost my identity at the tip of your tongues…
Who I thought I was and would be has been slowly drifted into the back pockets of insecurities…
And once again, I stand in front of the mirror and I ask my self,
*”How did I get here?”*
This side is suffocating me…
I’m in the middle of this street and no one can see me die…
Drowning in my tears and no one can see me cry…
I’m lost in my shadow no matter how hard I try…
I’m hungry for believe,
Starving to be understood…
I crave for freedom,
Yelling for justice…
I wanna pass out,
I wanna die,
Fade away
And maybe by that, I will be heard
And I will be *free*
by Theresa Kufuor | Oct 17, 2022 | Poem, Scripts
I have completely lost everything
Lost everyone
I can’t even tell which is my tears of joy and my pain
And I feel each day like I want something done badly
Like trying to figure out something I don’t even know
I just don’t know what I want
If to be what they want
Or just be the always broken indecisive me…
I know I look really beautiful in makeup and that’s too fake.
I know,
But have you ever seen my eyes without makeup or lenses?
Do you know how many mascaras I buy in a week after coming from washrooms?
Do you have any idea how I struggle to be in my senses?
I smile too much cos it feels like a mask
And when I’m all alone in my room at night, and that heavy mask is off,
my water breaks…
Tears flow on default
If my pain were a school
I swear I’d be a school president and awarded the most punctual
Cos my emotions are always active
I’m not too proud
I just don’t know what I do
I hate to admit that I don’t know who I am
I’m either facing the remix from home
Or cracking up on my life
My head is weighing
My heart is breaking
Pleasant memories fading
And the color of my eyes keeps changing
by Admin | Oct 17, 2022 | Poem, Scripts
To understand “what is” is divine,
but to fetch and paint into the open “what isn’t” like it was lifeless in the first place is design,
when climbing up the vine to the top is the truthfulness of fakeness,
the fakeness of truthfulness overtly resigns,
leaving out the thin line between lightness and darkness…
visible only to a man insane enough to tell you the loudest noise in a room is nothing more than a whisper,
and then covers tightly under tons of filters, his eardrums,
afraid the silence may sicken it with its loudness:
wild wild visions of a visionary whose life is imagined to fit inside a box which can’t be thought outside of,
cos all he has to show is a toothless wallet and bunches of thoughtfully -beautifully- misplaced words about a world barely barely staying alive or rearing its head from the bud;
a new inspiration has dawned or a mirage just glistened from the rat race and if I may just bring myself to downplay the former whose good fruits seem closer to fantasy than reality,there’s this possibility that after a decade or more’s toil as a slave I might gain some cheese-bite,
eventually, you find yourself caught under sad sodium lamplights in gaze of a boiling pot of “should I just throw in the towel or just keep on keeping on because this abyss of a world needs someone to look it in the soul and write the life of it to life”,
In this lovely place of stillness and terror, the artist learns to embrace the fact his mission isn’t to forge a light because the light has always been there,
lying right amidst the darkness we so want to divorce.
by Admin | Jun 12, 2020 | Poem, Scripts
Town Crier
Our paths parted seventy and a thousand years back
I call you to witness; brother’s keepers, lovers of wealth and brother’s killers.
You too, wrecked ships and innocent lives lost in these seas.
Iron ballast blocks counterbalancing weights of enslaved souls.
Shackles In rusty coils
Piercing through naïve skins-
You saw us come and go; Do not keep quiet now.
Graded into three: To colour, To wealth, To politics.
Or even four: To religion.
Propaganda tactics running on fingertips
Money roots held tightly by villains
Juiced out of the blood of innocent souls.
Hunters of wildfires in a dry vast land of religious principles
Now, an inguinal hernia
In society’s groin.
To colour?
We held on to you with dignity!
And gave us the strength to breathe.
The beauty of the shades of hue
Adorned on us
And shone like a bright morning star.
A brighter future beyond the horizon is all we seek.
But for racism?
Will this ever end?
The fight against racism
Is no ordinary playground.
It is a crown of thorns
Yet yields glory
On the Victor’s podium.
It starts with you, and me.
I may be black, you may be white.
But,
How are we now?
And what have we now?
Daavi Emefa
12th June, 2020.
by Admin | Jun 7, 2020 | Poem, Scripts
THE OTHER WORLD OF LIGHT.
Drip, drops, slips, low the crops
The dew refracts the rays of the yellow morning glory,
It sips, sucks, flips, then it flaps
Soak in the vibrations of the humming bird and the tulip story.
Feel the vertical grasses sway in patterns to the changing winds.
And the dandelion flowers dancing a spinning salsa to the airs.
The ants march in parade to the leaking nectar from the flamboyant.
And quietly listen to the Opera of lingual birds singing in resonance,
Whispering..
Sea, son, season, re – son, reason.
Witnessing the trees echo their calming frequencies of pitch
Through the living woods, through the pinna of the impala’s reach
Feed your soul, where your inner energy pays attention with no currency.
Let the carpeting waves of the cold oceans touch your soles
And allow your worries be nulled by the soothing sweeping breeze
Close thy sight and listen to the voices of her cools reach your poles
It is through this medium she’ll make your inner problems freeze
Gift her a package of your sorrows, and she’d transport you to peace
And the rubs of her sideways coconut strands shall sing you a rattle song.
Nature is calling you on a beam to find your balance
She welcomes you with drumming of rain drops to the soils
There’s enough energy for you in the capsules of her Universe
Open your mind, open your soul,
unlock your conscience, unleash your intuition,avail your spirits
Of light and darkness blends the keys to your living mortals
Embrace them both and receive enlightenment from the parallel portals,
Of the stars, and the black holes, and the milky way, and all comets,
Channel your energies and glide through its laws attraction.
In the sounds of silence…..
Meditate…
Humankind
by Admin | May 14, 2020 | Poem, Scripts, Spoken word
WHEN AFRICA WAS AFRICA…
To the day the cock gave the farmers a gentle alarm
And the sun came kissing the walls of the brown huts
And the paths in the grasses led our women to the cold Rivers
And the mornings were a chemistry hall of different food aromas
And our women strap their breasts with the most colorful weaves
And the muscles on our gallant men copied the contours of clouds
And our lands were more fertile than the white supremacist lady
And our shores contained minerals worth more than a whole Europe
And the white albinos got jealous of it and thought evil.
And Africa became a maize and they became the weevil
And they bore through our territories,and became smart terrorists
And they lied to us in the name of trade, but they later began to raid.
And steal, and destroyed, and raped our bountiful women with their 4 inches dicks.
And with the power of their whips and gun powders, they wiped our culture and heritage,
and taught us how to become a second them.
And enslaved us, and we obeyed, because there was no one to fight for us,because the rest of the world shut their cracked lips.
And they re wrote our history beginning with slavery, and primitive jabs
And they taught our generations with it, and mental slavery grew well.
And it found our modern day politicians, and most of them became the new oppressors, and black began to hate on black.
And anyone who tried to re unite and save us from the curses was Cursed with death, by own his own, with motivations from the white
And history swell with Canker, and we formed the African Union.
And they were never united, by worshiping their slave masters still.
And China came in, and the rest of it became the best comedy ever.
Dear Africa, look at your flags, they’re all made in China….. My lungs
Humankind 🌍.
