In a way, we are more whole when something in us is broken. —Steve Leder If you are looking for love, you should turn the world inside out, love is often found in Unexpected places I am learning to love my body, to stop seeing a distorted image of a stranger in the mirror In... Continue Reading →


Death is a mirror reflecting a thousand hungry roads A land whose belly has no end We were told of men whose flesh became dust Reminding us of life and its vanities We were told that life is a big void which is never empty The sage could not explain He said it is a... Continue Reading →


When I was younger, all I knew about aunt—Dad’s sister used to be her coconut smelling perfume, her throaty laughter, and the long conversations she had with Dad whenever she came visiting. Conversations I could not wrap my little mind around. I remember turning them in my head as their talks went from the most... Continue Reading →

This place will not be call home forever

The depressed man chose death because he was angry with life But we will make our anger into a hot fume, one that propels Hot fumes which will one day propel us Into a little river that will join the sea in a country faraway Lands we have travelled only in our minds We know... Continue Reading →

Thinking for God

We asked how He will walk on the sea, now that tide and times are differentHow our moth will become a butterflyWe asked if the rain will not wash this larva off the tree branch before we see what colour its wings will beThey call it faithlessnessWe call it thinking before timeAnd thinking for GodHeavy... Continue Reading →

We long to be Children again

In the beginning, when he was still a child and his papa’s hut was the palace of a king, life was simple—unruffled like the pages of a new book. Papa was his king, the man he reverenced. Any time the Clergyman spoke about God and he tried to picture his majestic being in his head,... Continue Reading →

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Trish Hopkinson

A selfish poet

Konya Shamsrumi

African. Poetry. Press.

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