Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Sway

Enlarge poem

Sway, Sway, Sway
The movement the young girls made when going down the road,
Their cloth tied around their waist could not hide the beauty of their voluptuous thighs
The shape of their bodies,
The outline of their waistbeads,
The points of their upright nipples – Youthful as they come.
Their chests heaved up and down in unison with their walking, with their girlish laughter.
Sweat glistened on their exposed skin giving them a glossy look.
They were girls in their prime.
Suddenly they stopped.
A beautiful full-bodied woman came towards them.
She was very curvaceous, her breasts hung lower, her hips broader but there was something about the movement that was different. Her waist was thicker with ripples and mounds, her arms fuller and back firmer. She was a woman in her prime.
Who could beat that?
The girls looked as she passed and said among themselves “One day we will be like her”
The envy showed in their eyes as the proud woman went by, balancing her goods on her head.
She was the most sought after woman in the village; widowed two years ago she had mourned deeply and now blossomed as the dark veil off death was removed from her and exchanged for white purity,
She had confidence, knowledge, wisdom and the experience of love, pain and loss.
She could weather all storms that came her way,
But right now she just lived for herself and loved her family and it was that mystery about her that set the young girls staring, the young men heated and anxious and the old men nodding their heads knowing their time was past as the beautiful woman passed by swaying, swaying, swaying.

Mariska Taylor-Darko

Featured Poem:

Natural Woman

Enlarge poem

When was the last time you felt the warm scalp of a woman
Run your fingers through her hair
Twisted her natural locks through your fingers
Or walked your fingers through the rows of braids
Just like walking through fields of corn

When did you see the true beauty of your African Woman?
Or saw a flawless dark skin?
Or kissed her natural plump lips?

From the days of slavery black women were told “ You gotta have hair like “Massa” ,
Don’t want no nappy haired black as sin gal in the house”
The beautiful black women were kept in the cotton fields
While those that had lighter skin,
The products of the slave master s were kept as house slaves
If your hair was long and straight, without a natural crinkle it was your bonus,
a passport to heaven,
a ticket to the illusion of freedom

Now, I hardly see an original black woman
They all seem to have become Chinese, Indian and European
Flicking about hair that is not their own
That may be from a horse, a yak or plastic factory
Afraid to show their natural beauty
Afraid because their men have been conditioned to think that a perfect woman has straight hair and fair skin
Afraid because their sisters would laugh and tease them for their tight curls
Wake up!
Have you ever really looked at the beauty of a black woman, all natural and dark?
They way her teeth and eyes sparkle in contrast to her skin
The way her hair feels soft like the ends of an ear of corn
Or woolly like that of a new born lamb
Twisting and curling itself through your fingers
True feelings exploding through the shaft of natural hair
Men! Treat a natural woman with respect
Women! rise up for the natural woman who dared
For her inner strength and inner pride have made her able to go against the norm
To show her true self
Just the way God made her
Perfect
A beautiful black woman

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Biography

Mariska Taylor-Darko is a widow with two sons. She is a writer, poet and motivational speaker. She is one of the Directors of Ghana Organisation for Learning and Development, (GOLD) a registered Charity in the U.K. aiming to assist women and children in the rural areas of Ghana. She is the founder of Yes Group Ghana, a motivational group involved in empowering the youth.

Mariska’s poems have been featured on www.oneghanaonevoice.com, which is an online poetry site several times and she has also been published, in Jambo, an East African magazine. She has also been featured on radio chat shows on Yfm and Citi fm and on TV with Viasat 1 on the One Show and has read her poetry in London at the Find your Voice motivational event. She has published her first motivational book, The Secret to Detoxifying your life and love , a collection of poems in a book called Rhythms of Poetry in Motion and is in the process of writing one film script, one novel and a collection of children’s stories. Recently she gave a reading of her book which is soon to be published called A Widow must not Speak at the Goethe Institute organised by the Writers Project of Ghana.

Mariska Taylor-Darko

Biography

Mariska Taylor-Darko is a widow with two sons. She is a writer, poet and motivational speaker. She is one of the Directors of Ghana Organisation for Learning and Development, (GOLD) a registered Charity in the U.K. aiming to assist women and children in the rural areas of Ghana. She is the founder of Yes Group Ghana, a motivational group involved in empowering the youth.

Mariska’s poems have been featured on www.oneghanaonevoice.com, which is an online poetry site several times and she has also been published, in Jambo, an East African magazine. She has also been featured on radio chat shows on Yfm and Citi fm and on TV with Viasat 1 on the One Show and has read her poetry in London at the Find your Voice motivational event. She has published her first motivational book, The Secret to Detoxifying your life and love , a collection of poems in a book called Rhythms of Poetry in Motion and is in the process of writing one film script, one novel and a collection of children’s stories. Recently she gave a reading of her book which is soon to be published called A Widow must not Speak at the Goethe Institute organised by the Writers Project of Ghana.

Sway

Enlarge poem

Sway, Sway, Sway
The movement the young girls made when going down the road,
Their cloth tied around their waist could not hide the beauty of their voluptuous thighs
The shape of their bodies,
The outline of their waistbeads,
The points of their upright nipples – Youthful as they come.
Their chests heaved up and down in unison with their walking, with their girlish laughter.
Sweat glistened on their exposed skin giving them a glossy look.
They were girls in their prime.
Suddenly they stopped.
A beautiful full-bodied woman came towards them.
She was very curvaceous, her breasts hung lower, her hips broader but there was something about the movement that was different. Her waist was thicker with ripples and mounds, her arms fuller and back firmer. She was a woman in her prime.
Who could beat that?
The girls looked as she passed and said among themselves “One day we will be like her”
The envy showed in their eyes as the proud woman went by, balancing her goods on her head.
She was the most sought after woman in the village; widowed two years ago she had mourned deeply and now blossomed as the dark veil off death was removed from her and exchanged for white purity,
She had confidence, knowledge, wisdom and the experience of love, pain and loss.
She could weather all storms that came her way,
But right now she just lived for herself and loved her family and it was that mystery about her that set the young girls staring, the young men heated and anxious and the old men nodding their heads knowing their time was past as the beautiful woman passed by swaying, swaying, swaying.

Featured Poem:

Natural Woman

Enlarge poem

When was the last time you felt the warm scalp of a woman
Run your fingers through her hair
Twisted her natural locks through your fingers
Or walked your fingers through the rows of braids
Just like walking through fields of corn

When did you see the true beauty of your African Woman?
Or saw a flawless dark skin?
Or kissed her natural plump lips?

From the days of slavery black women were told “ You gotta have hair like “Massa” ,
Don’t want no nappy haired black as sin gal in the house”
The beautiful black women were kept in the cotton fields
While those that had lighter skin,
The products of the slave master s were kept as house slaves
If your hair was long and straight, without a natural crinkle it was your bonus,
a passport to heaven,
a ticket to the illusion of freedom

Now, I hardly see an original black woman
They all seem to have become Chinese, Indian and European
Flicking about hair that is not their own
That may be from a horse, a yak or plastic factory
Afraid to show their natural beauty
Afraid because their men have been conditioned to think that a perfect woman has straight hair and fair skin
Afraid because their sisters would laugh and tease them for their tight curls
Wake up!
Have you ever really looked at the beauty of a black woman, all natural and dark?
They way her teeth and eyes sparkle in contrast to her skin
The way her hair feels soft like the ends of an ear of corn
Or woolly like that of a new born lamb
Twisting and curling itself through your fingers
True feelings exploding through the shaft of natural hair
Men! Treat a natural woman with respect
Women! rise up for the natural woman who dared
For her inner strength and inner pride have made her able to go against the norm
To show her true self
Just the way God made her
Perfect
A beautiful black woman

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (1)
  • Optimism (1)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (0)
  • Inspiration (0)
  • Reflection (0)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (0)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Sway

Enlarge poem

Sway, Sway, Sway
The movement the young girls made when going down the road,
Their cloth tied around their waist could not hide the beauty of their voluptuous thighs
The shape of their bodies,
The outline of their waistbeads,
The points of their upright nipples – Youthful as they come.
Their chests heaved up and down in unison with their walking, with their girlish laughter.
Sweat glistened on their exposed skin giving them a glossy look.
They were girls in their prime.
Suddenly they stopped.
A beautiful full-bodied woman came towards them.
She was very curvaceous, her breasts hung lower, her hips broader but there was something about the movement that was different. Her waist was thicker with ripples and mounds, her arms fuller and back firmer. She was a woman in her prime.
Who could beat that?
The girls looked as she passed and said among themselves “One day we will be like her”
The envy showed in their eyes as the proud woman went by, balancing her goods on her head.
She was the most sought after woman in the village; widowed two years ago she had mourned deeply and now blossomed as the dark veil off death was removed from her and exchanged for white purity,
She had confidence, knowledge, wisdom and the experience of love, pain and loss.
She could weather all storms that came her way,
But right now she just lived for herself and loved her family and it was that mystery about her that set the young girls staring, the young men heated and anxious and the old men nodding their heads knowing their time was past as the beautiful woman passed by swaying, swaying, swaying.

Comments

Your email address will not be published.