Diary of a mad black woman in the early stages





A man who knows his meats is one who can make a meal of a broad- so to speak

Knowing the difference between a rump and a brisket- takes more than just technique.

Men who ate steak….often preferred the fuller and chunkier physique,

And Barati was no different- the spark we made was beyond electric.


I knew I wanted no relation of the fainting heart with the butcher,

What I wanted to make was a steam that would form clouds off of the cooker

All I wanted was to make a beast with two heads without emotional pressures,

But desire came to collect after his one- time feast with a hooker.


Turns out Barati had a fairly large appetite,

One that formed pools of sweat- a different kind of heat that kept him up at night.

Now I know he gave me the disease- a secret he never brought to light.

He carried a curse from never wearing an armor on his duties as a knight.


My blood carries three letter tags from the sin we made on these sheets.

Not once, not once could I have known this man would make sickness taste so sweet…..

And when I said I’d make a mess of him  right across his shop at 86th street,

He laughed and told me: “we’re all dying sugar, take a fucking seat”


They all say- this is the diary of a mad black woman and I’m in the early stages,

I say I ought to be mad for the tears I bled on these damn pages

Well I couldn’t let the receipts of his lust kill him before I got the chance,

So I grabbed his favourite knife, and took him out for a dance.


I Kung fud his ass and kamikazed his junk

Sliced his manhood into pieces and dumped his remains in the trunk

Verdict as charged- “life sentence for the lass who wears a three letter sign”

Between the chase and the climax- the lives I had…… I burnt all nine.


©Sabrina Najib


“Took his life in the very ocean that carried him from Pemba to Madagascar.”

CASE no1.




I met Salum – the merchant sailor, when I sold oysters at the bay

He went out to sea and brought me a pearl every other Thursday.

He came to me with his stories of lands far away,

And with his charm and wit- I was floating on heaven’s stairway.


Once he brought me a piece of the ocean and put a shell to my ear,

….said: ‘that’s how deep my love is- that’s magic you hear’……

He put his hand on my heart and said: “home for me now- is here”.

And in that moment- chills multiplied from my toes to my hair.


So every Wednesday of every fortnight- before the boats came to deck,

I wore my satin dress and sprayed perfume from my cheeks to my neck

For his eyes only, I spent my last paycheck….

And in my naiveté I let my heart be his ship to wreck.


I learnt one day that he had a woman at every port,

That falling in love for him was not a revelation but a sport.

When it came to Seduction – Salum was master of the art….

My soul then blackened and I made him pay for breaking my heart.


For I made the wind blow his sails to my shore….

I commanded the waves to rock him steady to my door….

I’m the fool who gave him an aphrodisiac for a fossil from the ocean floor…….

Had me spend my earn just so he could be the one I cried for.

All this praying I wasted on a whore?

Well now Salum doesn’t breathe any more,

Salum is now a corpse offshore….


I drowned the bustard, made him drink the salt he rubbed on my scars,

Took his life in the very ocean that carried him from Pemba to Madagascar.

Soaked him to die like kerosene on a cigar…..

And when I light this match….. I’ll sleep well even if it’s behind bars.

That Maxwell Loving

That tenor range hit me in the feels just right.

I want that Maxwell loving…..

That chocolate flame from that urban Loving,

That rub-a-dubbin from that coco butter grind-

To give all to you…. my body, soul and mind.


Set a fire in my camp and give me some soul food.

Put the candles on and set the mood.

Lingerie on- swaying with my shadow in dim lights…..

That tenor range hit me in the feels just right.


Oh yes…….. Maxwell’s got me feeling good.

Got me love stoned with that neo-soul,

That sumthin sumthin has me losing control.

Got me drowning in the sun,

Working for you to watch me come undone.


Oh yes Maxwell,

You’ve got me feeling swell.

Honey from heaven- heat sweats from hell

You’ve got me walking a thin line,

Lost to body, I’m yours….. And you are mine.

©Sabrina Najib

Dear Fuckboy

No fuckboy, I’m not impressed.

Dear fuckboy,

Young man you must think you are so damn fine,

Sliding into my DM with your corny lines,

Did you think I’d give you time because you snapped and sent me a picture of your member?

You must have a lot of time off on your calender.

A boy on trend but he ain’t shit,

Tells himself he’s young and getting it

But we all know you’re out on someone else’s tab posting how you’re getting lit.

You must think you even stand a chance for me to take part in your bullshit,

When I know your mama pays for your car, your rent and even your outfits.

I guess your past victims let you lead them on,

You’d tell them you’d call them and leave them checking their phones,

Boy you really got it wrong,

Thinking I’d be seduced by your shitty produced  trap song.

You must’ve never fucked with a woman who’s grown.

No, I’m not impressed,

By your fake Adidas kicks,

Your juggling tricks-

with all of your side chicks

No fuckboy, let it be known I’m not impressed.

I ain’t about the hookup-

or the type of girl you can just pick up,

I want an actual grownup-

so don’t get a tent in your pants just pull your fucking zip-up.

Quite frankly, I’m not easily impressed.

Actually- I will never be impressed,

You live your life posing like your Jay Z,

Calling every girl you used to date crazy-

for dropping you coz you’re so damn  lazy

You would see that it’s you who comes off the looney.

if you only knew grown women prefer the likes of George Clooney.

So until forever you are blocked,

exhiled and ignored-

until you pull your pants up and wear a suit to work where you don’t advertise your nothingness so loosely.

Sleepwalking to find you

I still wish you would pick up your phone,

I’d tell you to stay home and reverse the events which led to the crash.

There’s so much more I need to say to you,

A lot more love I should have shown you.

Now I’m floating through a vacuum dreaming of you.

Cemented to the ground wishing I could run to you.

Not really living I wish I could be a ghost with you,

Find you in another realm and just hold you.


Sleepwalking at the scene of the crash,

Wishing I could make you whole again from what remains in the ash.

Gone from me,

It can never again be,

Just you and me,

Each time I sleep, I wish to save you, just one time, from the crash.


Night brings me closer to you,

When I close my eyes and wish I could touch you.

I pray somehow that you know how much I still love you,

And in my slumber I’d sleep forever if I could just hear from you.

In my zombie state I wonder if I am one with you,

I can’t shake the wondering of how I could’ve made it different for you.

Now I shadow my former self, fractioned by the remains of you.


Sleepwalking at the scene of the crash,

In a lifetime ponder of how my light was dimmed in a flash.

Now I’m trying to move on,

But I can’t accept that you’re gone,

I still wish you would pick up your phone,

I’d tell you to stay home and reverse the events which led to the crash.


©Sabrina Najib




Hymn for 25

Here I arrived to close,
Here I leave to open.
I am well.

Roads have led to crossroads which led to other crossroads-

Today I travel lighter for I have reduced my load.

Ode to the pilgrimage which found the destination to now.

 …..and so I am well


Praise to the fall which crashed and rebuilt to now.

Grounds have shifted and put homes out of place,

Today I don’t wear fear or my heart on my face.

I give Praise to the fall which crashed and rebuilt to now.

…….I am well, I am well


Words cut deep and made for defensive reliance,

Today I bear less guilt for I value the safety of silence.

I plead sorry to the wronged for the hurt made yesterday.

…….I am well, I am well, I am very well


Old familiar faces have become strangers in passing,

Today I am rich with the ones who stayed without me asking.

Farewell to the loss which ploughed new harvest today.

I am well, I am well I am well with what was

I am well I am well I am well with what is.



Oath to Preserve

So here is my new oath to make,

That what is precious shall not be easy for anyone to take.


Oath to preserve

Here I proclaim my oath to preserve.

And to my body- I make a promise to uphold.

For my being- I build a wall to protect….

And my heart to never be for passengers to collect.



I have become a state of constant wanting.

I shed my veil to reveal for somatic exploring…

I gave in to body and lost my way of thinking.

I gave away my reign for peer similarity,

I bartered my guard for a common currency….

Now it trades at a price based on spending frequency.



Today, I declare my oath to preserve…..

I gave away a vase made of song,

For a cup coated with fool’s gold.

My brick broken- now I am one with the old.

I grew my fruit- fresh and ripe it stayed,

But like snake to eve, to lust, my precious I gave away.

Smoke floats to mourn a red flower no longer in bloom,

As the wind changed way and took the child from its room.

In regret I know- my innocence was not yet due,

Broke my first oath- I became early a woman for you.



So here is my new oath to make,

That what is precious shall not be easy for anyone to take.

And to my mind- I vow to explore,

To my body it shall preserve for the man who shall give more.

©Sabrina Najib