Aimalolghi Eromosele is a free-verse prose poet and community organizer from Palmhurst, TX. She writes as a means of providing relief, comfort, and understanding for both herself and the reader, and aims to further develop her unique style of simple yet highly emotive poems. "I create in order to process, to find truth, to feel human."
Aimaloghi started writing as a private form of therapy. "I didn't have anymore space in my heart for all that I was feeling. I was overwhelming myself..." She eventually shared her poems with trusted loved ones who encouraged her to continue fostering her talents. "They gave me the confidence to trust my own words and share them with the world."
Aimaloghi loves to explore the theme of love itself. "It's my favorite topic. It invokes so much in me." Heavily influenced by writers like Warsan Shire, Nayyirah Waheed, Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, and Virginia Wolf, her pieces cover a range of subjects, from the woes of emotion and heartbreak to the pleasures of witnessing a beautiful sky or a kind gesture. "Every newest poem is my favorite for a period of time."
Aimaloghi was born and raised in the Valley, and is a avid member of its activist community (see The Black Lives in the 956 tab). "I want to see the Valley stand up in their truth more. This is a Black and Brown region with so much power and even greater potential to unify in radicality to address injustices as they arise. This is not to say that many individuals here don't. In fact, it quite the opposite," she says. "I'm just hopeful for the day that the majority of residents here wake up to their own power and capability to strive toward collective liberation."
Aimaloghi helped organize a local BLM rally in 2016 and remains consistently outspoken about related race and colorism issues in South Texas and nationwide. "BLM is a simple affirmation. All Black lives, dreams, hopes, families, safety, love... It all matters."
Scroll down to read Aimaloghi's works.
UNTITLED
One of the last things you said to me was, “well, you and I are very different”, with a very indifferent shrug.
I barely caught it, but you said it in a way that put miles and oceans and mountains between us, when we were only inches apart.
When did it change? Despite the differences, I could always find you through the terrain of unfamiliarity. When did you stop saying “we are different” with the kind of fondness that could melt sugar? When did our differences stop being so sweet? In what span of time did they turn so sour ? We used to laugh and casually speak about the variances in our lives with something close to pride. Something close to:
“not the same but equal” “not the same but it’s alright”
“not the same but i love you anyway”
We were uncharted territory for each other, and it was exciting and so strangely wonderful. But I suppose as time went on, the uncharted territory—the miles, the oceans, the mountains—it all became too much. I no longer knew how to find you.
ADONIS
Hand me the world on a silver platter, but be sure to pick out the ignoramuses, Because you know they’ve always left a bad taste in my mouth.
See me in full color,
Cradle my culture near your breast and sing us a lullaby.
Balance my identity on your tongue and breathe it only preceding words of truth...
Cradle my culture near your breast and sing us a lullaby.
Balance my identity on your tongue and breathe it only preceding words of truth...
Capture my eyes and your gaze.
Hold me there.
I want the sincerity to be startling.
Make me your muse... can you see my aura? Do I inspire you?
Hold me there.
I want the sincerity to be startling.
Make me your muse... can you see my aura? Do I inspire you?
Grow on me like ivy. Wrap yourself around all my nooks and crannies.
Remember me like your favorite book; recite the lines from my soul like nobody else can.
Remember me like your favorite book; recite the lines from my soul like nobody else can.
Know me better than I know myself.
UNTITLED
I do wonder,
What you tell people when they ask,
“What happened?”
Do you tell them about your selfishness,
Your inability to see past your own nose?
Do you tell them about your shortcomings?
My giving and your taking.
My giving and your taking.
Do you tell them it was my fault?
For being so naïve?
Do you tell them that you just wanted more,
wanted me,
but wanted more.
wanted it all.
For being so naïve?
Do you tell them that you just wanted more,
wanted me,
but wanted more.
wanted it all.
Wanted me one way
and wanted him another.
and wanted him another.
Do you tell them about how our bodies melded together in a mosaic of mahogany and sepia tones, every night underneath cloud white cotton sheets, but you were so far away from me in the blues of your mind that the terrain of our physicality did not matter?
or
Do you tell them the cliches?
“We just wanted different things”
“It just wasn’t working out”
“We’re better off as friends”
I do wonder,
If they can see you’re lying.
