by Lindie Botes
Blogs Recommendations and Resources
TCK Town
http://tcktown.com
“TCK TOWN is a digital publication which exemplifies what our tribe does best – we reach out, find each other and talk about the stories that have made us who we are.ย ย I hope TCK Town will become one place in this big, wide world where fellow TCKs can find a sympathetic ear when they visit, a place to further expand brains already itchy for extra knowledge and a destination that’s not limited by long flights, awkward transits or that time difference calculation before you decide to call in.”
Poems Standard
Echo
bright splashes of sound and smell laugh
in my face as I drag
a finger through the dusty residue of last night’s
dreams
thoughts reaching eagerly for the edge of our windowsill
voices ring through my sister’s room and
small feet
chase the goats of Rue 3
I stick out my tongue because the air
is warm and salty and I
am glad to be alive
my feet find their way to the kitchen
and I smile up at a dripping face
“here”
I wriggle my hips into the skirt held out for me
stiff
with the sun and wind of Harmattan
the trucks begin to arrive
shouting hello to the watchman and we run
bare feet slapping across the cement, skidding
to a stop in the sudden sand
as I sneak a look behind me
before ducking through the doors
whip the willow
is new for us but the music
is already in our veins
so we listen our way into the patterns on the floor
rhythm
pulling the room in dizzy circles
lock elbows and spin faster
crooked
grin
we could dance
all night
later
the roof is a breathless
purple
leaning out over the courtyard, the moon
is nowhere to be found
quiet footsteps
pad on the stairs
I turn around and you point
so we look up at the sky and
pick a star to wish on
…
an alarm clock rings in the distance
my eyes fly open
groping for the mosquito net
and I turn my face towards the window, but there’s a wall
instead
confused snow
drifting quietly
to the ground outside
a new window
over there
I am lost and this must be
Minnesota
by Kekelime
Poems Standard
Eyeroll
we are done writing
for this summer
our words
trickled out in cautious hope
as she wove the squirrels into our story
and he stood, refusing to let another person leave.
I traced the interstate with two fingers
in the misty glass, and
again in the small oval that was my window
three planes later
I’m rolling down a mountain on my hands and
knees
a small red dot waits on my screen.
sleep well, banana.
by Kekelime
Poems Standard
Lens
my memories, they are not of Ethiolo
of small feet winding
down a dusty path to a water-well worn
with the chatter of women, girls I used to know
I canโt see the dirt, red against your ankles
hear the call of buckets to one another
sloshing in the sway of hips
flip flops mingled in the early morning light
I remember knives flying
tongues sliding
across the smooth expanse of the language we shared
stretched through our fingers as peppers danced, green
into your pan
the screech of a wheelbarrow
bare feet slapped
across the bricks, padded
through the sand
I remember
sticky heat, and
breeze through my hair
waves lapping
against a shore that curves into the distance
lost blue in a city sky
by Kekelime