In the beginning, there was the word. And the word was caged, shackled by laws inked in the brittle bones of colonialism, bound in the thick ropes of apartheid and its bastard chommies; racism, sexism, xenophobia, classism, political oppression, capitalisms...

Poetry is the lifeblood of rebellion, revolution, and the raising of consciousness.- Alice Walker New year, same old algorithm in love with its own echo. Looping back to whisper us awake or deeper into slumber. The poet (now far removed...

“I am on a quest to find the perfect poem,a gentle balance between word, rhythm and thought …a poem that sends the moon and sun dancing over the skyline hand in hand”⁠—Kojo Baffoe I find myself slouched in the corner...

To remember is to peel away the scabEach letter in your name is a muffled bellSwaying in the windless deathA fading chime made of flesh asks to disappear into the earth To remember is to breatheTo hold you in my...

I am smoke and Sunday lunch. My wilting skin is the dying dog’s whimper, My hands, the smell of candle wax. I am a mouth full of tombstones, and stories moulded from wind and dragon scales. I am the Burning...