Woman of Africa
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Joseph Kaifala


African woman
Woman of the north
Woman of the south
Woman of the east and west
Woman of the Makona river
How beautiful you are

I look at you without blinking
Your black braided hair
A beauty I cannot resist
Like an alignment of the stars
Your smooth dark skin
Complements your fierce white eyes

I could stare at you forever
As you do your majestic walk
Feet and hips in rhythm
To the beat of your internal djembe
With the attitude of a goddess
You flirt wit...

Lion Mountains

By Joseph Kaifala

In the Lion Mountains I was conceived
In her absence I have redefined myself
I was compelled to leave you Romarong
But I am strengthened by your blood
The blood of free blacks mixed with natives
On the western side of a continent
A home for Africa’s abandoned children

How I long to coil in your black belly again
And smell the aroma of foufou and tola
Cooked with hog-foot and canya pepe
And the tang of Mama Jeneba’s pemahun
Dispersed by the smell of ken...

There Was A Meeting in Heaven Last Night
By Joseph Kaifala

≈
Hear ye, Hear ye!
Did the town crier not pass through your town tonight?
There was a meeting in Heaven last night
What meeting do you speak of, Eyes of the Dead?
Chief Albert Luthuli was there
I said what meeting do you speak of, Messenger of our Ancestors!
Oliver Tambo was in attendance and he sat with Mandela
Chris Hani was there, too, and he sat at the feet of Old Luthuli
Ruth First and Joe Slovo were there!
Then the child...

Hold My Hand
A Poem by Joseph Kaifala

Hold my hand
And lead me down the path
Where our love endures forever
And wash away my cowardly fears
As we gaze at the setting sun
≈    
Hold my hand
And be my unwavering strength
When waves of life attempt to sway me
For your love holds firmer than levees
Even on quicksand that slides beneath
≈    
Hold my hand
My stunning angel of dusk
And dilute my untamed anxieties
As the sun dissolves into sea
And the sky overshadows their embrace
≈...

Lanpedusa My Brother’s Grave

 I

Lampedusa my brother’s grave

From rickety slums and human misery

My brothers and sisters have come

Bundled in the bond of awful memories

Tightened by the confines of their wretched vessels

Huddling and cuddling in their wooded graves

The hope of a better life their only lighthouse

Where they perish others will follow

II

Lampedusa my brother’s grave

Where tombstones flow upon salty liquid

Numbering not in single files

But in hundreds of mass liq...