Unseeing

Where does the dehumanization of men begin to ensure the perpetuation of the patriarchy and do we even see it?

I saw him.

But quickly turned away-

from the tears that appeared oddly placed.

Proportions of strength mingled with unspoken fears,

Unfathered promises,

that broke through the makeshift shield of boldness.

I might have seen him there.

Lingering between becoming and failure,

Halting memories of

childhoods lost in the fires of being

a stoic shadow of self

a notion of boldness unrealized.

I couldn’t have seen him,

balancing expectation with

the weight of unearned priviliges,

falling under,

whimpering,

and weak?

I never saw.

When Our Bodies get trumped

It’s not the first or most likely the last time the leader of the free world would attack and reduce feminity and being a woman to a shallow argument about physical looks. Dare to wonder why he thinks he gets a pass on that one. But as always, our bodies, our strong, beautiful and intricate bodies have been trumped.

Trump’s recent barrage on MSNBC’s Mika Brzezinski and her alleged botched cosmetic surgeryTrump should alarm us for the simple reason that a president is not expected to publically make such comments.  However, more so, his degrading Twitter tantrum speaks volumes about the trials and obstacles that women constantly face in order to succeed in the corporate world as well as life in general.

Women- whether, white, black, brown- are constantly having their appearance scrutinized and rejected. The status-quo of a male-dominated society means that women always fall short, even if they attain perfection in all aspects of their lives. Yes, talk is cheap but Trump has demonstrated as he has done many times before, that women can and will continue to be reduced to physicality and sexual prowess.

 

p.c: http://bit.ly/2ts2E8w

 

The African Dream

When they painted the African narrative

They did not anticipate growth.

Or perhaps they prayed against it?

The beauty of the African dream,

the black dream in the white mind

is that it never comes true.

It must remain blurry and murky before it can be realized.

For it is upon the pot-bellied rulers that they discuss

“the New Africa”

the “Rebirth”.

The beauty of the African dream-

must be found in the impoverished infant

suckling a dried and withered breast

of a smiling corpse

The beauty of the African dream

is the illiterate woman,

toiling the fields,

for crops that will never yield.

Of the dirty children playing under the

Amarula tree.

The beauty of the African dream

is found in the colonized ideology fed to the locals

in the disguise of the Saints and Mother Mary.

That is the only narrative the white mind

can swallow with his morning tea.

Meeting the Dream Man

I met him in the dimly lit passage-way

between his fear of failure and his desire for power.

It was a different feeling, it pulled at me-

gripping my heart in such a frightening way.

Drawing me closer but leading me nowhere. 

Having come this far, how could I return?

At this point of neither paradise nor destruction.

I stood and called out to him.

But he seemed to disappear into the faraway depth-

that of imagination and the pursuit of purpose.