Now I’m talking by Nomfundo Khambule

Nomfundo Khambule | Aug 29th, 2022 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

Now I’m talking

We are not a snack

We are communion
Our bodies are broken religiously by men who will never comprehend its power

In our dark brown skins, we are gods

Our divinity is coiled into our thick black curls

We are diety

Worship our broken feet
They have prevailed over the hands of broken men
who we yesterday poured out of our bellies

We are standing
On scorching brown soil that resembles our hearts.
Our chests are burning

This time you will hear us
Our tongues will no longer sit quietly in your shackles
We will not be silenced

We are not your toys
We are not a plaything scheduled for disposal.
We will not be used then cast out like persevering demons
Do not reduce our being to breasts and buttocks

Young boy, who gave you permission to take without asking?

How dare you call us ANGRY?

We are an outburst of feminine glory
Our eyes beaming with vigour

Our smiles are a delicacy
We are not a shadow
we carry the sun in our hands
We embody a fierce mind

We are lights

We are gods

We are gods!

Ok, I’m done.

Poet Bio

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