Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Isabella Motadinyane

RIBBON HANDS

Ribbon hands
mama’s little darling
decorative hands
the way she is lazy
a coward retreats
anger is written on the forehead
children are like orphans
while the mother is still living
she goes to work
shoes stepping high
nails always wet with cutex
her boss knows her as
Mrs so and so
today her marriage is over
she lodged at other peoples houses
roll on
sweet sixteens
are plenty

RIBBON HANDS

RIBBON HANDS

Ribbon hands
mama’s little darling
matsoho ke dikgabisa
o botswa hore ha hole tjena
ja boi a tlhelhe
nkane e bonala phatleng
bana ke dikgutsana
mmabo asaja mabele
hoseng oya mosebetsing
seta sea hatwa hle
manila hao hloke pente
makgoa a motseba ele
Mrs so and so
kajeno nyalo e fedile
a dula marao jarateng
tsabo masterns
roll on
mabhobhodlwane
ke ntlentletse
ho aprwa di miniskirt
ntata ke enwa
hosasa ke yaane
Close

RIBBON HANDS

Ribbon hands
mama’s little darling
decorative hands
the way she is lazy
a coward retreats
anger is written on the forehead
children are like orphans
while the mother is still living
she goes to work
shoes stepping high
nails always wet with cutex
her boss knows her as
Mrs so and so
today her marriage is over
she lodged at other peoples houses
roll on
sweet sixteens
are plenty

RIBBON HANDS

Ribbon hands
mama’s little darling
decorative hands
the way she is lazy
a coward retreats
anger is written on the forehead
children are like orphans
while the mother is still living
she goes to work
shoes stepping high
nails always wet with cutex
her boss knows her as
Mrs so and so
today her marriage is over
she lodged at other peoples houses
roll on
sweet sixteens
are plenty
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