Are you keeping your eyes on the whirlwind?

(PRLog.Org) – (Brookline, MA) – Tichaona Chinyelu is a poet and author of In The Whirlwind and Still Living on My Feet. She has conducted many interviews which include Artist First and LTH Weekly Show. Tichaona’s poem Weaver Woman is featured on the main page online at Black Poetry. She is the CEO of Whirlwind Publishing. For further information visit

About Whirlwind Publishing

Whirlwind Publishing is Tichaona Chinyelu’s publishing company and has published two books of poetry which include In The Whirlwind and Still Living on My Feet. For further information visit

About In The Whirlwind

In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!

In the Whirlwind is available at


    Weaver Woman

I weave words
like a west african market woman
selling you my vision, my mangoes, my papayas
even my coconuts.
My finished product can be held up to the sun
illuminated, made to shine.
The skins of my poems have been submerged in mud
then laid at the bottom of the baobob tree to dry like mudcloth.
The blood of my poems can be as dry as the sahara;
as wet as monsoons;
as cutting as a machete in the hands of the mau mau.

I weave blood into my words:
red blood, dried blood, young blood.
An oversaturation of blood decorates my words
makes them pulse red.
My words hang from trees
like the bitterest kind of strange fruit.
My words find the peruvian revolutionaries
murdered while hogtied
and then buried in criminal secrecy.
My words were inspired by Rigoberta Menchu.

I roots rock reggae with my words;
have them jamming to the heart beat rhythm
of the warmest music.
The fabric of my words is at its lightest
when they’re in the dancehall or the yard.
My words sweep over people
like the softest caribbean breezes.
My words will have you dreaming of blue skies
white sands and coral reefs

and while you’re dreaming
I weave black people into my words
and I am done.
My finished product can be held up to the sun
illuminated, made to shine.

About Still Living on my Feet

Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep within the trough of her Y chromosomes; lacing it with truths, humor and sisterly compassion. Still uncompromising, Tichaona’s overtly articulates the primacy of black women without negating their compliment, black men. Using a sentence she coined a while back; the line of my back needed straightening more than my hair, as her muse, Tichaona retraces the spiritual experience she had in her early twenties revolving around the grandmother she never met. Drawing on her desire to respond righteously, she encapsulated that experience of love and consciousness to produce the progressive, relevant and textured writings of Still Living on my Feet.

Still Living on my Feet is available at


    Wanton Woman

They say ain’t no sunshine
between my legs
just a wet satanic pit.
The pains I took to inform them
my name isn’t Lilith,
first wife of Adam,
runaway bride,
semen stealer,
wife and mother of hundreds
of demons
dampened my ardor
and pushed them
out doors
where they discovered
a newfound proclivity
to call me bitch.

I reveled in my bed
and the passion it could produce
without affiliation
or affliction.
Like Sinead,
I was no man’s woman.
Like Renatta,
I fought for the sovereignty
of my space.

Vituperative, claimed repressed
into goodness women
and their hypocritical men
as they dragged me
and my medusa-attributed hair
into the court of public opinion.

Lilith, the judge called me
but I only answered to Ntozake:
she who has her own things.

Eve, biter of devilish apple, he screamed
but my reply was Assata:
she who struggles.

Margaret Garner, he howled
and I said yes, I deny you
the right to raise my children as slaves.

Unreconstructed pagan, he spat.
Both the sun and the moon are my church:
the sun because it is the promoter of life
and the moon because it controls the tides.
My ancestors didn’t ask you to come for us.
Why should we construct ourselves to fit your reality?

Harlot! Whore! Slut!
I laughed. I’ve turned down more men
than I’ve embraced
and the ones I’ve turned down
are the ones leveling these charges
including you.

Adorned with my free woman accessories
and sense of the sacred feminine
I’ve rejected your imprisoning baubles
and religious rhetoric
for the sacrament of she.

To order copies of In The WhirlWind and Still Living on My Feet, please visit

In The WhirlWind
ISBN-10: 0978935500
ISBN-13: 978-0978935504
Price: $12.95

Still Living on my Feet
ISBN-10: 0978935519
ISBN-13: 978-0978935511
Price: $14.95