Outeraction

sunflower-5-daily-oil-by-Krista-Hasson

‘Sunflower’ by Krista Hasson

I’m running out of breath;
my sweat is overflowing.

My thighs are widely apart;
he’s in six-feet deep.

I can taste my tears;

I can’t feel my legs.

He’s giving me life but
I know this is deadly.


Whose grave is he digging?

Is it mine or his?

Will I die again 
or is this the good living?

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Black Girls in Sunlight

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Painted by Nicholle Kobi

In sunlight,
black girls look like precious metals.

Some black girls glow like rich copper,
and some, like brass,
and some, like bronze,
and some, like gold.

I find it all intriguing:
the various styles of their hair,
the haughtiness in their stares,
the colours on their lips,
the excitement in their speech,
the fierceness of their strides,
the way they sit like royal highnesses,
like queens.

The love is requited:
the sun loves the black girl
and the black girl loves the sun.

In sunlight,
black girls are a wonder.

The Priestess

The High Priestess (2018)

Painted by Kiarra Lynn Smith

The high priestess lives on her throne,
the wounded healer,
scarred to the bone.

Drenched in her own precious blood,
the tears she holds in                             
could make a flood.

The souls before her form a line,
her chants, the bread,
her music, the wine.

She closes her eyes to see and feel;
she was raised to serve,
uplifted to kneel.

Birds That Don’t Fly

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Why do certain birds have wings
and do not fly,
and when they do,
they don’t do so very high?

I don’t know.

Why do some animals have mouths
and do not speak,
and when they “do”,
all you get is a tiny, little squeak?

I don’t know.

Why does a woman have a womb
if she does not birth,
if she doesn’t attempt to,
if it’s not attached to her sense of worth?

I don’t know.

I know that some birds do not fly,
because they don’t have to;
they don’t find food in the sky.
Many animals do not talk;
nothing has to be said,
to learn from a hawk. 

And lastly, now firstly, the woman.

Some women do not birth
because it’s not why they are on earth.
It doesn’t come up in their thoughts of romance;
wombman isn’t just child-maker, by any chance.


So, there are several children in the world who are suffering because their mothers are either late, or they were abandoned immediately after birth. That a child has a present mother isn’t even enough proof that they don’t suffer as a result of her horrible parenting approach. Some women gave birth because they were pushed to think that they just had to, and since, deep down, they never wanted to, the end results turned out to be horrible, almost catastrophic.

If you are so concerned about children, if they really mean so much to you, and that’s your motivating factor, why are you pressuring this one woman who doesn’t want to give birth (and not necessarily because she can’t), instead of worrying about the ones that the earth already has, that are dying constantly, due to inadequate care.

There are at least two approaches that people have to seeing a bird that is not flying. They think- well, she’s either in a cage, or she doesn’t know how to. Why don’t we go out of our way to teach her, and if she still doesn’t fly, we throw her in the air anyway, so she can break her leg. Better still, we can cage her. Why should a bird just be on her feet, not flapping her wings, not singing, if she’s truly free?

Therefore, sir, ma, to whom this may concern, how can we best support you, so you can aspire to (at least) be sensible in the nearest future?

She Suffers II: “Where are You?”

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“Woodland Waterfall” by Tom Thomson

The man isn’t clingy;
“clingy” is too belittling,
it’s degrading,
too degrading.

He is possessive;
he knows what he wants
and he’ll get and keep it at all costs.
Being possessive is cute.

The woman is possessive?
I think not.
She is clingy,
maybe too clingy.
You can’t own a man;
you have to let him live.
A man is not built to be
with just one woman.

You see, unfortunately,
men can’t be hoes,
but women can.
Being clingy isn’t cute;
it will never be.

Unfuckwithable

She protected her inner world fiercely
like a lioness protecting her cubs.
She wore silence like a cloak,
and liked to cleverly observe.

They tried to take the ‘cloak’ off,
but she politely declined,
and when they tried to rip it off,
she terribly roared.

Reign, Queen of African Descent

The darker her skin,
the darker her days,
the harder she works,
the harder she prays,
the deeper she loves,
the shorter he stays,
the faster she tries,
the slower it pays

Your royal highness,
constantly oppressed queen,
though your days may be dark
like the colour of your skin,
you are bright enough to be
whatever and wherever
you want to be;
you are supposed to stride in.

Wild Thoughts

Make me your trinity:
Treat me like your mum;
listen to me and respect me.
Treat me like your best friend;
talk to me and trust me.
Treat me like your baby;
love me and pamper me.

Blessed Be the Woman

African Woman

You’re powerful
You’re strong
You’re amazing
The nurturer
The force
The bringer of life
The bringer of light
The bringer of love
Mummy
“Abo”
“Obinrin”
“Iya”
“Iyawo”
My lady
My sister
My mother
My queen
My woman
The greatest piece of art

MANnerless

A MANnerless woman is the kind
that wants to be entitled to the same
level of respect as her fellow human beings,
irrespective of the differences in gender/sex.
There isn’t a being as scary and threatening
as a MANnerless woman.