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Beyond The Armchair
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Check back soon
Once posts are published, you’ll see them here.
Editor's Picks
I'll admit it. I can't tell the difference between what's ai and what isn't.
I suppose such an idea reeks of my ignorance,doesn't it? You're probably telling yourself that this is not how the world works. I know that.
Black Woman | a poem
They say the black woman Is an angry woman. She raises her voice Untethered from expectations And screams In the face of injustice. They say she is wild Feral even, as though she were an animal Meant to be kept In some cage. They shame her And reduce her To their stereotypes. Disregarding the messages In her cries. They refuse her autonomy While stealing her culture. Sanitizing it, bleaching it Making a mockery of her Art. Black woman, do not falter. Do not let them steal you
Purple Hearts | a poem
Petticoats Violin notes Enticing the Men The Men The Men The Men The Men Cycles repeating Waters breaking Over and over and over Again. The wife The mother The maid The burden Burning the black books Scaring the kin Forging the struggle Right onto their skin. Silent but deadly Seen but not heard Black and blue scars Littered with purple hearts Overtones of innocence Painted on white dresses With bouquets of roses Thrown over her head Aiming for hands Prepared to reach Their c
CTDCC: Leading the Fight Against Substance Abuse in the Western Cape
CTDCC team at work. picture: CTDCC official Facebook Substance abuse continues to be one of the most dangerous and widespread public health issues faced in today’s South Africa. While alcohol abuse retains its position as the most overly-consumed substance, drug addiction is right behind it. Particularly drugs such as cannabis, heroin, and cocaine dominate the illicit drug market. As a result families are destroyed and friendships are broken, leaving people isolated within
Rainy days | a poem
I love rainy days. I love how the smell of earth dances inside my nostrils. Like a perfume perfectly curated for me. And how each droplet that grazes my skin, Ever so slightly touches my soul. I love how the pitter patter of droplets crescendos into a roar so mighty it moves entire nations. But most of all, I love the calm. I love the last moments of a storm, When everybody has gotten home safe And has found their way to their beds. Snuggled under a heap of blankets. Awaiting
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