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Poems - 29/09/21

Photo du rédacteur: Fanta SouareFanta Souare

This was scary, but it made me feel alive.


Thank you for reading parts & pieces of my head and my heart.

And for giving me space to be vulnerable as fuck.


Thank you to the organizers and all the creatives for being such beautiful people and bringing us together in such a beautiful space.


Before going on stage, I told Leo (Ig: G3lio) that I wasn't a poet, "I just like words" and he replied, "No! You like textures, rhythm, motions, feelings and more! Not just words, man."

And he was right, I do, I really, really do.

And I'm not gonna undermine that anymore.





Check out the other artists: https://qrco.de/bcQNtf :)



Youth Voices SAW Showcase Poetry Set


Summer 2020


I’m becoming increasingly aware that this planet is not safe for someone who looks like me

I mean I’ve always known, but tonight the feeling is weary and heavy

and I don't know if I’ll survive this

I don't know that I want to survive this


if I die


hug my mom

hold her

tell her about me, the parts unknown & hidden too

make sure she smiles again

tell her we had the same giggle


remind my sister I love her

that I’m with her every step of the way

protect her

tell her she’s beautiful over and over

give her my sun necklace, yes the one turning green,

it was my favourite


tell my brother he’s allowed to cry

that he should soften up

and think his thoughts out loud

that I worried about him

that there’s a playlist I made with him in mind

make sure he knows his football dreams will come true

and that in the case they dont don’t he’ll build himself an amazing life regardless

and I that I wouldn't love him any less


tell my dad I wish things could have been different

that I need him to let that pain go

thank that I loved him despite me

that I want him to remember me

that I adored them

that I know they’ll be okay


do not let them neoliberalize me

or paint me as a peace keeper

I was abolition, destruction and fire

I wanted death to the world as we know it

I wanted to see it all burn

I wanted to build a sanctuary in those ashes

a new world out of smoke

I wanted an oasis out of debris

If not in this lifetime I hope the next

I really did do my best


my dreams, my aspirations and my hopes were big, black, radical, revolutionary and dope

I wanted that passion to ooze out of me and give life, bring hope

make light

be light

match

spark

and spread it

and watch it grow widespread


my rage should be cherished and remembered

as should my heart

I wanted to live wholeheartedly


ripple change in any way possible

laugh with my entire chest and smile with all my teeth

I wanted to know love and have it know me

for it to fill every crack and enter every vicinity

I wanted to drown in it

I want to be certain my friends & my sisters know they gave me every part of it


do not bury me

make me into a tree

tend to me

do read my diary

thread through those pages carefully

stream my consciousness and read the parts of me I didn’t talk about enough

listen to my voice notes

complete my bucket list

pour one out for me

light a candle and help me transition,

I don’t think I’d go easy


play my favourite songs, sing them, dance to them, lose yourself to them

smile and wave at strangers at all hours

stare at the sky, glimpse at the stars and thank the universe often

soften

some days wait for sunrise

live vulnerably and with sensitivity

hold me in your heart as you do

that would be enough

I hope

that would be enough


I probably never finished the books in my library

read and embrace them for me

lastly, “I thank Allah for his blessings with which he has filled me.”



My Pussy is not a Rose Quartz


They tell me I am home

They tell me I am warm


They climb up inside me

Yet put down no foundation

Tell me I am their peace and their safe haven


This is where they come to forget themselves

And treat my bones like shells

I am a break from the world around them


This is where they come to feel love

See love

Touch love

Smell love

Taste love

To my cave

My secret cove


My pussy is not a rose quartz

I repeat my vagina is not a mine where you can rummage in search of yourself

You will not find kyanite in my barings

Or selenite in walls

Or jade in halls


I am not the peace, love and light you are looking for

I use men like you to wipe the floor

You cannot use humans a blood diamonds

I promise there is no ruby in my nether regions

You can’t keep exploiting hearts to make yourself feel full

Feel anything

Feel at all


I am not your safe space

I am not the place you come to heal

I am not your church confessional

I am not your mule, your caretaker

Nor your corner store or rehabilitation centre


You will clear and cleanse your way through your shit alone

This house is not your home


Do not mishear me

I know I am a rare gem


Just not yours to collect

To have or even to admire or to vet

I am my own treasure, but enough I digress


I am not a stone for you to bring to your altar

I will not be the offering

I will not be your sacrificial stone

This is my own home



Eye Contact is Minefields Worth of Intimacy


Your eyes they carry a lot, but not too much to decipher

I’m sure I could do it if you gave me your permission and a couple hours


I wish I could strip it all away and claw through the surface

Through your brain and through your iris

I’d make my way though your pupils from atop your head

And go wherever I am lead


If only you’d let me dig through your frontal lobe

Your eyes as my point of entry

I wouldn't poke and probe

Simply sift through the ripples of your brain so gently

Exploring and taking in all around me


I’d walk inside your head

And pick up all the thoughts you dread


I’d then make myself tiny

And pick up all that is heavy

Collect rivers of tears

And pour the pain out from your ears

Be the release you’ve been searching for years


Let me through

I just want to love you

From inside your brown eyes

To crystallize

To memorize

And maybe even collect butterflies



When He’s in My City


he calls me lust

he calls me sexy

he calls me 613

he calls me after midnight, only

he calls me crazy

he calls me when his dick is hard solely

he comes to my door every blue moon

he comes and is gone my noon

he comes when he wants company

he comes and leaves his keys

he comes back and leaves me on my knees


he says feelings are like disease

he says this is no romantic get-together

he says we need boundaries

he says its overwhelming when it feels like we’re together

he says he’s known love already and does not care to know it again

he says this playfully not knowing it is a matter of emergency


the storm is getting heavy

and my heart has called a general assembly


we gather in the nest of my chest and she’s ready to protest


she calls me wailing

she calls me crazy

she calls me begging

she cries wash him off me

she cries blood

she cries like she is grief stricken

she cries like she had seen this coming

she says he salts your earth and its time to let him go

she says he’s been picking at her like a crow

she says crops will never grow here

she begs me to stay clear

she cries that since he’s arrived in town she’s only known pain

she cries why do you fall in love with hurricanes

why do you stick around and see them through

even when they rampage through you

and leave your skies a grey muddy shade of blue


when the sun comes up there is nothing but mourning

nothing to see after an empty night of moaning

and trees groaning

and im hurting

yet i still find him so charming


its been nothing but down

she says it only rains sour in this town


she is forecasting another storm

she says she will not stay for this one

she says send him back to the girl he came from

she senses the oncoming anguish and she feels the rain droplets

she says he’s coming

I also hear the drumming

or that might be my heart beating

she predicts he’ll phone once and I’ll be topless

and I could say she is senseless

but I am to busy putting on my best dress to bring a warm welcome to our guest

yes, the one who brings no offerings but harsh winds, mess and distress


she warns me that she cant weather another storm like the last one

she says she’s gonna pack her shit and run


its too late he’s made it the city


he calls, he comes, he leaves

she calls, she cries, she wails.

there is nothing left to harvest

just things to process


he says he’ll call me when he’s back in the city

and that he misses me already



Still Dreaming an Oasis


dreaming an oasis. dreaming sanctuary. dreaming safe spaces.


I’m so tired of black girls not being afforded the most basic care, compassion, respect and grace

of eldest daughters carrying centuries worth of heartache

I am so tired of my sisters and I not having a home to come home to

not having a place in the world where you are safe and radically accepted too


every time I’ve been at the end of my wits I’ve never pulled myself out of it alone

the honourable thing to say would be to that I figured it out on my own

but I really could not have done it alone.


when you do not have both the material and emotional tools or resources to get by,

there is no getting by.

there is no making ends meet.

you need people.

you need ground under you feet

the last time I was free falling deep

people held me together

they held me to keep

held me tighter


andrea gave me a roof to stay under

nashlee was always a call away

angelina made groceries trips into fun outings

m-a gave me space to unravel, be a mess and just exist

amani reminded me that every breath was active resilience and courage, that I was stronger than I thought

braver than i thought

adrian offered me hugs & adventures as moments of respite

nisrine made sure i kept my head on my shoulders and didn’t let myself sink

they knew i’d be alright

florence let me know help was okay

and those are only a couple names along the way

I got so lucky

I am so lucky

and for that I am eternally grateful

but I also wonder if everybody is as lucky as me


I do know the answer to that question actually

and the mere thought of it brings me to tears

because it shouldn’t be a matter of luck


I’ve been longing, looking and searching for peace, love, safety, security and stability for the entirety of my life

often in the wrong places.

and i don’t want other black girls to have to look any further

or any longer...


so I am still dreaming an oasis


because suffer, struggle, survive

there has to be more to life than this?


I’m tired of holding all this hurt in my spine

and swinging through trauma like vines


this planet won’t run run me into the ground

I want my heaven now


I want my oasis

a pretty plum planet where care and love are the basis


I just want a place to heal

a place to surrender and feel



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