Diana Motsi

Ride to an African hell

Stair case by staircase

Sweat dripping off drop after drop

From the neck to the toes

Pushing away forward like a hyena feeding off a dead elephant.

Bones spread out across thin skin

Brushed brutally by yellow sun.

Has our flesh been led to extinction all left are dead bones raided by demonsthat feast off the stench of death?

Brutally feasting on what was fruitful and ever knowing

Taken back to mere pieces that give off the stench of conservative aura

Of old women who bore revenge,brew violence and made the world a war zone

Drag me to an african hell where there are pitiful cries of what could have been

Drag me there while singing hyms or playing drums loud enough to rescue my totem 

Nurse me with sound 

Hype me with devotion drank in a wooden cup

Harbor my cries ,grab my mourning and collect my tears

Help my tribe  make the most elegent of all rides to hell

Pushed in glamour,opposite to the life l lived 

I want to end my journey in the most devine kingly way.

Name:Diana Motsi



About the Artist:

My art is more than just expression.It fortifies my trinity.My heart spirit and soul.My art color and smile.It mounds my existence.It is more than my identity because it also paints my capacity.My strength and weakness.My art is freedom to be to think and to act.Either in sound in picture and fashion

My art is recognizing the art within other people and help them embrace it by capturing their expression in word and picture.Every moment is precious whether it has color or not hence my monochromic appeal to photography

My writing is expression of its bitter kind.It is unapologetic but soothed with a vulnerable touch as l seek to address the ills of societal confinement that is so strong it has infiltrated art which was originally a symbol of being different and free.Because art has been defined l seek to view my art as undefined ,accepted by me because it is mine in its bitter honesty.My art is in words and in people .



One thought on “Diana Motsi

Leave a Reply