Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Womb Of Eve by Mercy Dhliwayo

Bound by the curse of Eve
I am woman
Beautiful, black, sun tanned
The one whose skin would not respond to no skin lightening cream
Beyond these black spots and patches on my face
Is a representation of Africa’s forgotten race
My heart beats at an African drum pace
As I embrace
The earth; the seed of my birth
My heart beats with an African bongo rhythm
Echoing sounds of ancient mysticism
That lies hidden deep within the belly of the garden of Eden
My blackness deeply rooted within this soil
The very existence of my womanhood
The soil upon which Nehanda stood
As her sacrificial blood streamed deep into the veins of
Earth’s life giving artery
Nehanda forever shall stay part of me
Hell; I am Nehanda Nyakasikana in disguise
Within my blackness and femininity is where my strength lies
Black and feminine I am woman
Not just a woman, I am Africa; the womb of Eve
I am the womb
I am Eve
Mother of life; mother of all that live
Within my womb I came to conceive
The son; the man; the seed; the world
My sons come forth and discover the tunnels and voyages
of my femininity
Rediscover my ever bleeding wounds and let them nourish earth fertility 
Let my menstrual flow flood your rivers and oceans
Take a sip of this potion
Rejuvenate your spirit of black consciousness
That lies on the verge of erosion
Navigate my seas and discover the roots of your true origin
that only can be traced back into the womb of a woman
my daughters and sons come forth and receive the poetic baptism
of  my immortal mysticism
suckle from the breast of my infinite wisdom
For I am the word
She, the ‘WO’ who came before the birth of the ‘MAN’
A woman is what I am and Africa is who I am

Monday, September 3, 2012

I Was There by Rudorwashe Kanukamwe

I was there
while he breathed heavily
on top of me.
I saw the cruelty in his eyes
when he was on top of me.
I struggled under his arms
as his mind pushed for one thing.
I felt the pain and betrayal as he tore my legs apart,
and thrust into me
I heard the words he said,
which I won’t repeat for the dignity of my writing,
and for the dignity of your reading.
But I was there
and now I am here,
hopeless, helpless
wondering how to tell my fiancé
about this disillusionment of myself
and that I was there
saw him and felt him.