Tag: Freshly pressed

About Poetry

Visible as dawn – A Haiku

Ama

Image Credit: Pixabay I'm all for Haiku Fridays, so here's mine. Visible as dawn by Ama Danesi Pineapple on my head unruly stalks, roots above ground - visible as dawn.   Not a pretty sight but it makes getting dressed in the mornings easier.Inspiration - Natural hair, as in kinks, roots and all. There is… Continue reading Visible as dawn – A Haiku

Shorts · Writing

The Art of Solitude – Finding Your Creative Space

Ama1 Comment

  Can we create something meaningful and enduring from chaos?  In today's social media hyped world - viral yes, enduring no. I find it easier to start outside then dive into the center and create from that space. That means finding the environment, the space, a ritual, an object that inspires, a scent, music that… Continue reading The Art of Solitude – Finding Your Creative Space

Real Life · Shorts · Writing

The Making of a Craftsman or Artisan

Ama2 Comments

Whoever said creativity was easy, a buzz from the subconscious, has not been through the dark night of the soul. I have. I wept with my protagonist wondering, why...why am I doing this to myself?  So lately I've been spent. Drained by the sheer grit of finishing the first draft of my novel and now with… Continue reading The Making of a Craftsman or Artisan

Missing Nigerian Girls Abducted by Boko Haram Islamic Militants
Real Life · Writing

Missing Nigerian Girls Abducted by Boko Haram Islamic Militants

Ama1 Comment

#BringBackOurGirls. You don’t mess with babies and innocent children. The days of Boko Haram are numbered. Fanatics and maniacs always overplay their hand. To Nigerians, our collective indolence has allowed this septic and cancerous sect of Islāmic militants to fester for five years. Five years! They are operating on a “scale and ferocity that underscores how… Continue reading Missing Nigerian Girls Abducted by Boko Haram Islamic Militants

About Poetry · Shorts · Writing

Unsightly Edges – A Poem

Ama

Unsightly Edges - A Poem By Ama Danesi There's a knock, a hesitant rap on my nape from pain that's testing, peering over my delicate collar-bone for a crack in my steely resolve. My need for more is a palmed heat. I'm done with squatters. He can still smell me in his nostrils. He lingers, a familiar high… Continue reading Unsightly Edges – A Poem