Saltwater Demands a Psalm: Poems

by Kweku Abimbola

In Ghana’s Akan tradition, on the eighth day of life a child is named according to the day of the week on which they were born. This marks their true birth. In Kweku Abimbola’s rhapsodic debut, the intimacy of this practice yields an intricately layered poetics of time and body based in Black possibility, ancestry, and joy. While odes and praise songs celebrate rituals of self- and collective-care—of durags, stank faces, and dance—Abimbola’s elegies imagine alternate lives and afterlives for those slain by police, returning to naming as a means of rebirth and reconnection following the lost understanding of time and space that accompanies Black death. Saltwater Demands a Psalm creates a cosmology in search of Black eternity governed by Adinkra symbols—pictographs central to Ghanaian language and culture in their proverbial meanings—and rooted in units of time created from the rhythms of Black life. These poems groove, remix, and recenter African language and spiritual practice to rejoice in liberation’s struggles and triumphs. Abimbola’s poetry invokes the ecstasy and sorrow of saying the names of the departed, of seeing and being seen, of being called and calling back.

Genres: Poetry

96 pages, Paperback

First published April 4, 2023

Reviews

[Jesse Hassinger · Rating 5 out of 5]

Kweku Abimbola’s first collection is a fresh page on how we can build love and remembrance for those who have passed on. A psalm for both lost innocence and lost family (be they blood or kin) steeped in the joyousness of life. It is at once a playlist for the beauty of how to live and an ode to the ways we can remember without the horrors and traumas of the loss. No traumas are recounted in these pages so that no one can indulge in the exploitation and objectification that turns people with lives and loves into numbers and statistics. Abimbola celebrates and imbues new life into those who have been taken from this earth too soon, often by state violence, but it feels even wrong to say that in this review because that does not enter into the central body of these poems. Instead Abimbola invites us to gbese with Burna Boy, twerk to Detroit DJs, and end the night with Frankie Beverly and Maze. Only through these acts of celebrating can we come into communion with those who have left us and eventually approach the heaven that we choose to enter.

[Kelly · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a great collection of poems that moves deftly from a vivacious celebration of life, to a sacred remembrance of the unjustly departed, to personal family dynamics, to larger cultural considerations. It feels like a song, a dance, a prayer, a conversation.

The notes section at the end is illuminating and appreciated.

[Emma S · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sankofa.

[M Delea · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an amazing book, especially for a first book!

I read this for--you guessed it--#thesealeychallenge2023. It is a thick book, but some of the poems are very short, a few are concrete poems, and the sections are all separated by pages of African symbols (which are explained in the notes).

There are personal poems and political poems, poems about violence and poems with humor, lots of water, music, dancing, air, hair, names and naming, and many places, mostly in the US but also Africa. The poems have, for the most part, a very chat-like quality. So, yes, it is not a short book, but it reads like one. (I mean that as a compliment--I was never like, "Oy! There's still 17 more pages?!?")

The first poem in the book comes before any sections, and is the title poem. The poem itself evokes the beautiful book cover.

A few of the places mentioned in some way include Ghana, Florida, Texas, Brooklyn, Virginia, and Pennsylvania. The language in the book is mesmerizing, and ranges from formal to street slang, trendy online phrases to foreign words and phrases, and protest slogans to phrases from famous poems.

My favorite poems were the title one, the humorous ones, and a group I will discuss in a minute. Favorites include: Stank Face, The Function, Rite, Proverbs: an ode to black advice, Good Air, Naming Ceremony, and the book's final poem, Adinkra. The most moving poems were the 6 written for/about 6 innocent young African Americans who were killed by police (or, in the case of Trayvon Martin, someone acting as police). These poems are heartbreaking while also showing us more of the victims in their lives.

A few favorite bits:

"Do you know the day your hair begins?"
--Kwatakye Atiko

" . . . the body is a prism
of rhythm . . . "
--Adinkrahene

"You can tell the age
of a comb the same as a human:
check to see how many teeth
it's missing."
--Duafe

"make mine a floating
funeral--
bury me to air."
--Mourning Dance

"my mother teaches me how to letter my body"
--Bodyglyphics

A wonderful book all around, and those 6 poems that are linked by tragedy are mind-blowing.

[Stephen Jay · Rating 5 out of 5]

In a world that often seeks to abbreviate, commodify, or erase the depth of Black life, Kweku Abimbola’s Saltwater Demands a Psalm arrives as a profound act of restoration and sacred cartography. This is not merely a debut poetry collection; it is a meticulously crafted cosmology, a spiritual system built from the rhythms of Black existence its joy, its resilience, its profound sorrow, and its unbreakable connection to ancestry.

Abimbola’s genius lies in his foundational framework: the Akan tradition of naming. By rooting identity and rebirth in the specific day of one’s birth, he reclaims time itself from the grip of oppression, transforming it into a vessel of personal destiny and collective memory. This act is the book’s beating heart. The elegies are not endpoints, but portals; the celebration of slain individuals through naming becomes a revolutionary practice of resurrection and reconnection, defiantly insisting on an alternate, eternal timeline for Black life beyond the violent interruptions of state sanctioned death.

The integration of Adinkra symbols is not decorative, but structural, weaving proverbial Ghanaian wisdom into the very fabric of the poems. This creates a powerful literary lineage that remixes and recenters African language and spirituality, making the collection itself a form of "collective care." The poems groove, they mourn, they praise from the intimate ritual of the durag to the communal language of the dance.

To read this book is to participate in a liturgy. It is to understand that "saltwater" the sweat of labor, the tears of grief, the Atlantic’s memory does not only signify pain; it demands a psalm, a song of survival, a holy text. Abimbola has provided that text. It is a challenging, ecstatic, and essential work that sings of Black eternity with a voice that is both ancient and urgently new. For anyone who believes in the power of language to heal, to name, and to liberate, this collection is a monumental, five-star achievement.

[Patricia N. McLaughlin · Rating 4 out of 5]

An exploration of African-American identity, this collection of poems describes some defining moments in a Black man’s life: being welcomed into the world with ancestral naming rituals, learning how to tie a four-in-hand, getting a fresh cut at the barbershop, dealing with a traffic stop, hanging with homies at the club, wearing a durag, passing along proverbial wisdom, and using traditional rites to protect home and family. The elegies for those killed by police brutality—Trayvon, Sandra, Freddie, Tarika, Charleena, Tamir, Michael—honor the dead by remembering their names and immortalize their spirits by lifting them up to the gods through the power of language. Endnotes contain interesting explanations of West African folklore mentioned in the poems.

Favorite Poems:
“Four-in-Hand”
“The Function”
“Barbershop Philosophy”
“Proverbs: an ode to black advice”
“Good Air”

[Leonard · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book of poems earlier today and just finished reading it. It's a memorable collection, simultaneously sad and exuberant. Abimbola lives in Detroit but writes like a citizen of the world who sees what many miss, and in writing these poems, opens our eyes. Of this book. Danez Smith writes, " Built of rituals old and new, Kweku Abimbola's debut ties together life and afterlife, hope and mercy, the knowledge of blood and the long memory of water, quilting a poetics that bridges across the Atlantic to sing of Black love, Black community, and Black heaven wherever they might be found." "Abimbola is a wonderful storyteller who has picked the poems as his lute to play for his beloved people."

[Caroline · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

I found this collection very immersive and appreciated the invitation to slow down and be transported into another tradition. The elegy poems were particularly striking, but I also enjoyed the more playful poems in the collection that focused on Black diasporic culture ("Stank Face" and "The Function," an homage to "The Red Wheelbarrow," were my favorites). The poems about Abimbola's father are also incredibly moving. In "Rite," the poet struggles to reconcile a fond memory of cutting his father's hair with the current status quo of his father disapproving of his natural hairstyles. I definitely recommend this collection.

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This collection blends African cultural references with contemporary American issues, creating a distinct voice for the author. Among the standout poems in the collection are memorials to Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, and Freddie Gray, among others, all African American citizens whose deaths are examples of injustice. Abimbola offers pronouncements without being preachy -- declarations of presence and worth. "Saltwater Demands a Psalm" would appeal especially to young adults who challenge the status quo while seeking their place in this world. I will be adding the book to my classroom library.

[Jacqueline Gordon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely stunning collection. The imagery is so intimate and even humorous at points, and wholly unique. The visual elements really added to it as well. While this collection has a wide-ranging variety of tones and subject matter, it somehow all felt like one cohesive "psalm" at the same time.

[sylvia oyinlola · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bridge Over the Saltwater

Kweku made music with his verses and rhymes. I was enchanted with the Alan words and sayings that cut across all of us.

[Candace · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poetry is normally not my thing but this was absolutely beautiful! I picked this up based on an employee recommendation at The Raven Book Store in Lawrence, KS and am so glad I did!

[Brice Montgomery · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really excellent—stronger as a collection than as its constituent poems, and there's something extra-linguistic here that made this get under my skin in a good way.

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

a couple of good ones here, but like so much of the current poetry offerings this one is too much about the individualized experience of the poet, in my opinion.

[Enry Ravaglini · Rating 4 out of 5]

The mingling of myth and present reality is very compelling in this strong debut.

[Molly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sealey Challenge 2024 4/31

[Jess · Rating 5 out of 5]

I LOVED THESE POEMS!

[ben · Rating 4 out of 5]

this is so rich … really dense. but an encompassing lyric that makes you deeply invested in the speaker