Dark Radiance

 When Emmanuel begun to play, the music was as soft as wool And to the music, his daughter twirled and tossed her arms In the middle of a flight developed from a leap, the tempo changed. She knew she had to pay more attention to the music. Every twirl and toss needed to be carefully calculated. It felt good. She felt like a professional. She drowned in her euphoria until she took a 360 degree turn  Upon returning to her original position she found an audience of three before her She was bent on keeping up the dance to the music The tempo was getting faster and it was getting hard to dance but she still kept on Leaps became jumps and twirls became instant spins Her head ached and her feet were sore However, she chose to be a dancer and a dancer she shall be Emmanuel sped up the music and everything became blur She had to improvise to keep up the show So she spun. Spun until her head was light Spun until breathing became a fight With the slicing sound of applause and the sudden ...

Growing up, or should I say, sprouting like a tree, I received a number of hits from woodmen who wanted a piece of the best wood. On my bark, they left dents; with the intention of weakening my stem.  In reality, these dents were scars left. Scars that spoke to me.  I sometimes overlook the faint scar on my eyelid but then it reminds me that not all memories remain in the memory. I want to hate the two little marks at the back of my palms but it reminds me that even in happiness, there can be an ounce of pain. I want to eliminate the scar on my finger; however it keeps me in check and reminds not to go places where I am not wanted. I remember the disappointment on my mother's face when I scarred the left leg she believed could bring her a pageant crown; However, it is the same one which reminds me to watch the way I speak Finally, the little scar on my pinky toe reminds me that whilst riding the bicycle of life at full speed, sudden brakes may become necessary to apply and tha...

 Lies, Synonymous to dried up thorns that pierce the skin, Revolting than the creatures which disgust its utterers. Similar to blades, gradually weakening the relationships of people, A sister to slow poison, little by little, killing trust, In truth, it can be forgiven But its evidence remains in the remains of its ruined relationships. Lies, The highest product selling in our world's market, Ironically produced by the most despised manufacturers, A product unconsciously purchased by the consumer, Properly and carefully constructed to ensure it cunningly satisfies the buyer. Its sale is effortless but its   cost  and  repair  is expensive. It is the main cause of consumers losing faith in producers; And one of the reasons people trust no other product on the market. Lies An acid neutralised with maximum difficulty, Presenting its salty nature in a stream of after effects. A force which goes against the Newton's law and gives a greater reaction than the ease of ...

LIMES AND ORANGES   I'm brainstorming, thinking, trying to fi nd one word to describe what this term has been but its almost...impossible if not impossible. Its been a crazy three and a half- month ride and everyone who endured it would embrace a case of dementia with open arms but then I think again, would I? Would I want to obliterate the feeling of the adrenaline rush when getting on stage to dance with my energy filled friends? Or would I want to smudge the memories of tasting those weirdly shaped berries for the first time? Would I want to uproot the tree we sat under having a deep conversation over Popcorners? Would I want to turn back the hands of the time we stayed awake just to blow helium balloons? Or would I want to forget the lyrics to the improvised songs that giddy friend made at the house's car park? I definitely wouldn't.  In attempt to win this battle, some poignant times came through; maybe more than the light ones. People finding it hard to sustain the me...

  APOLOGETICALLY BLACK  I sometimes just sit on my bed and gaze at the wall. Looking intently, I see writings. Writings that entail what ifs and what nows. Writings that reflect my very thoughts. Writings that communicate my feelings.  What if I was born a shade lighter? What if I was born as a mixed girl? What if I was born as a different race? Or what if I was born white? Will this preferential treatment of the people above be something unheard of? Will it be easier to express yourself as a black girl or even a dark black girl? Fortunately or unfortunately for me I remain how I was made. So what now? What do I do to stop the trolling I get from being called too dark by the caramel skinned teacher in my school? What do I do to obstruct the inferiority I feel when in the midst of the hundred white people whilst I'm on a vacation? What now? Should I hide forever? Should I accept myself and live with it? Truthfully, I don't know what do... Hey there! I'm back for some time...

  UNAPOLOGETICALLY BLACK They say wear what you feel like wearing But what I wear is permanent Its one that cannot be worn unless handed to you And cannot be acquired through a simple purchase A regalia that keeps some staring One that complements the brightness of colours despite its darkness The glowing impact upon collision with the Sun is a pure blessing There is a sort of equilibrium that runs through out this dress Its simple but sophisticated Not one inspired by pinterest but melanin I've had it since birth They outfit is strictly for queens This outfit is black... I wear this clothing with pride, In it even the Sun is on my side, Seeing me in orange might make you blind, Well sorry for being beautiful But I do not regret my colour but consider it a prize Yes I am black But not just black, unapologetically black.