<a href="http://Friend“>


Sparkles and shimmer
twinkle of old stars
true friendship is golden
no hurt, no pain

… but our world has lost transparency
friendship is bought and taught
the real meaning; lost in pretence
bitterness tells more tales
soaking cruelty into deep scars
paralysing the circle of connection
“backstabs” and “frontstabs”
tearing emotions into dirty little pieces
still in this little enigma of hatred
there are souls with true colours
shinning positivity and hope.

Through galloping and meandering paths
a true friend stitches the bitter linens
and makes sweet old sour hearts

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

The redemption

<a href="http://Fearless Fantasies“>

It’s the dawn of beastly
an era of flickering triumph
arising from an army within
redefining the broken edges
caressing the pain we hide
the fear of letting go ruins the dawn
letting darkness sneak through
tracing the faults to blame
see not the flames in terror
but the burnt bridge it yields
to be born is to be free
and to be free, is to be alive
the fight never ends, it goes on
the day you win, is the day you become alive.

Copyright© 2015. Ruth Brodrick



You close your mouth when he speaks rudely because you are afraid,
now you have become an empty jar with a broken handle.

You let your oil dry and did not replace it because he did not like it,
now you have become as dry as the plantain tree during harmattan.

You kneel before him when he is upset because you want to be submissive,
now your back have arched, that he compares it to the camels of the wanderers.

You wipe his shoes with your only wrapper because you do not want him to call you lazy,
now you are half naked and he does not even bother if you be Eve.

You choose to give him seeds of 12, so his mother will not call you barren,
now your stomach is a bag of fat and he no longer finds pleasure in you.

You have now become so pale and grey, that even your daughter now asks
what happened to you?…

Copyright©2015. Ruth Brodrick.



The way I love you
It’s in no way familiar
My heart has been stolen
Dressed with the best perfumes
And kept in a chest of your words

It’s a beautiful pleasure in here
My love for you surpasses strength
It’s fierce yet as calm as the waters
Even if you do not want me anymore
I would wait till you love me again

Like a nail driven far deep into the wall
I have driven myself into you, fixing my heart
I wish for you to see this, but also not to
The fear that you will think of me as weak
It’s actually why I keep dying in this box

I am actually weak; your smell, your touch
I am enslaved to a man who is strong-willed
Fighting away the cups that bear him wine
Helplessly denying the need to turn off lights
Still I love him for the poison he feeds me

The way I love you
Is that kind of way that tells a story
A story that will run on the lips of men
The story of how you tamed my prudence
And cultured my thoughts to wanting more

By Ruth Brodrick
All Rights Reserved ©



her waist; the fall of kings and the swells of men
a two wrapper buttocks that tells the tale of an African deity
eyes so dauntless, provoking curses from monkey women
cornrows neatly matted to mock the leaves of Iroko
the glow of her skin draws the hate of her husband’s wife
the curve of her lips tells the story for only strong men
her voice; the sweet melody of your father’s soul

now she is cracked and beaten by the vain lust for herself
that she tells my sister that her husband lusts for her
and that I am jealous of her figure eight…


withered_rose_by_nuubisHe stood there, looking vexed, his face wore a tight frown that got her wondering what he was thinking,

He said in his husky voice, ”come here” but she was afraid, in her head was the war of these words, how did this happen? I only wanted to have fun, now this? How did he find out? Was he there?
She braced up, and started moving towards him, her feet seemed glued to the floor, so she had to put extra efforts to enable her get to him, she is still afraid.

I shouldn’t have let Stephanie introduce me to him, I shouldn’t have allowed myself drink too much, did we really… my God, shit! I’m such a jerk, totally screwed myself up, if he finds out, he will be sad, his temper, oh God, what will happen to me?

Are u alright? His voice woke her from her thoughts, why did you not tell me you were going to be home late sweetheart? I have been waiting all night for you, even made your special; shredded beef sauce with king shrimps, just the way you like it huh? Come sit, you look pale, what happened to your hair? The curls are out? Were you drinking? Sit down my love, you should taste the smoothie, tried out the new recipe…

I love you, she said, not sure if it was guilt or pain speaking, but she knew that was all she wanted to say to him, realizing that he had no idea about what just happened, she said to herself ”it will be the first and the last”. She leaned over and kissed his forehead,

I love you too Barbie, he said as he stabbed her right into her chest with the kitchen knife in his hands
I’m sorry Barbie, but I can’t forgive you for being with another, he said as he began eating the food he made for her…

<a href="Ready, Set, Done!” title=”the madness of wrath”>


<a href="One at a Time” title=”OUR VOICES – SAY NO TO RACISM; BLACK LIVES MATTER”>238A680100000578-2851264-image-48_1417058591995   The long strides of hope is suddenly becoming vague and blur, Freedom isn’t just about the restoration of human rights, it holds fast on the restoration of patriotism and democracy. The ills of our world is slowly eloping the main course of eternity, and the voices of our  freedom fighters (Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King jr) seems to be crying again; ”a free world with no racism”

Unity goes far beyond the lips, it’s a character that should be worn at all times, especially in difficult situations. Love on the other hand is not just a bond, but the mind we should have towards one another. Whether we are black or white, we should be entwined in peace and love, we should not allow evil grow again, this evil was conquered years ago, we should stand and keep this evil far away.

The joy of freedom is the smile of our unborn children, so tell me, are we not free? Let’s pause for a second and think, what if chaos booms and death becomes the credibility of our existence, how then can we say we have achieved progress? Corruption is like a virus that preys on its host, sucking out life and eventually, death sets it, that is what we should avoid, the death of the ones we love, the death of a world we struggled to build, the death of a future that is supposed to glow, the death of the love that set us free and bonded us in unity.

speaker     I do not believe that we are strolling back to the days when blacks were seen as threats, or the days where blacks live in cold torments of fear; this is a world we conquered, we should not resurrect it. The damnation of peace is far more deadly than the damnation of war, so do we have to make a simple prayer again? No! prayer isn’t the cure, neither is the colour of our skin, the cure is YOU AND ME, we need to SPEAK up with one voice which will be echoed by clarity and liberation, and we need to listen to the voices we hear on the Streets, TV, Radio, Newspapers, and our Minds; yes, what we need is ‘our voices’ to say #black lives matter, #penalize corrupt/racist cops…

2389037000000578-2851264-image-47_1417058576187    The  dance of change is the dance of voices that lived to wear the shoes of peace. This world can only become a better place if we make it one, let’s us not let the calmness of the season fly away like birds that are chased by the hunters, rather let us make it a home for everyone to live in. Lives have been lost #Michael Brown, #Eric Garner, #Rumain Brisbon, #Tamir Rice, and many others we do not know about, so let us say in one voice;






Love should be the theme of our streets, the faces of our children, and the badge of every individual who believes in upholding justice irrespective of their race, tribe or country.

Let’s promote Human Rights and SAY NO TO RACISM.

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This article should not be used or shared without the author’s permission


“Let my hands be watered
by the rivers of love that flow out of your lips
Let your innocence brood over me
like sapphire and daunting like heaving
Let my pain be healed
by the power of your sweet embrace
and caress my hidden pleasures”

For such are the words
of a patient bride

A bride who sits in a cold dark room
waiting for the sun to stand still on her course
To melt the ice from her stale soul
and ignite the warmth of the fire he set within her
In the midst of her drowsy day
is the thought of the humour of his love
rising like the troubled sea
yet with the pace of peaceful waters of the great sea

Touch not the sun to shift from its stand
for it gives light to her little corner
The night only blinds her expectant spirit
and buries the perfect cliché
She dreamt a dream of entwined roses
turning into a tree of plummeting ego
An ego to bloom, grow
and eventually become the rest that never ends
A rest that sets the rough wings
of the broken angel anew and glowing

For each page of  her life’s chapter
bears a heart that beats restlessly in patience
A heart that carries the answers
to her fading prayers and trembling questions
A heart that bears the reason
of her solemn patience and endless imaginations
For neither the paleness of the grey walls
nor the shadows of fear will stop the wait

For her patience grows aggressive and hot
as she waits, yet tamed by the fever of her desires
The desires that are sweet as lemonade
and coarse as soured wine
She plunges into faith
as she sits in the dark
awaiting the return of her groom…

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This poem should not be shared or used without the author’s permission.