There seems to be this sense among even well-meaning Americans that Africa is this black hole of murder and mutilation that can never be fixed, no matter what aid is brought in.

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The Pride To Be An African

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition

My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in
Existence.

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The Black Continent

Africa, Africa, Africa!
The Black Continent full of raw materials and talented people;
For the Blackman is capable of managing his own affairs.

Beautiful South Africa,
Beautiful North Africa,
Beautiful East Africa,
Beautiful West Africa,
And beautiful Central Africa! !
This Black Continent is full of natural resources.

Visit Africa to understand our ways,
For we have more to the world!
And like the muse of the animals in the forest,
But The Black Continent means a lot to all of us on this earth:

Africa, Africa, Africa! !

poem by Edward Kofi LouisReport problemRelated quotes
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Knife

Slit and
Slither knife
Penetrate in phallic push
To perforate the pulse of tissues in the flesh
Slice a vein to drain the unsuspecting victim
E’er they bleed and plea
Their scream
Of death


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010



murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder

poem by Mark R SlaughterReport problemRelated quotes
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Wave Of Mutilation

Cease to resist, giving my goodbye
Drive my car into the ocean
Youll think Im dead, but I sail away
On a wave of mutilation
A wave
Wave
Ive kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
Walked the sand with the crustaceans
Could find my way to mariana
On a wave of mutilation,
Wave of mutilation
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Wave of mutilation
Wave

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Africa and Africa’s

Have seen little of history unfold
I know that one thing will always be
Africa will be,
But what is Africa’s may never be

White man came
Green lands began to dry
So did rivers and streams
Even oceans and seas

Whatever the white man sees
Seems to vanish from Africa
Like dews do in his singeing summers
When he sees peace… there! Gone

The white man said he’d in Africa invested
In actual sense he had Africa infested
Looting without shame
Claiming England is Object; Africa its subject

There was gold, grandpa says
We fight over our own
Lacerate throats and disembowel ours
Man in white fuels it dressed in black

We choose our way
Dos, don’ts, and embargoes stay
When we invent, they endear us
Purporting supervision, yet looting

What is Africa’s one day will be
And shall remain African and Africa’s
What should unite Africa is Africa’s
It will never split Africa into Africas

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Africa Call (Black People)

You are black still your feet
know not Africa soil, you
are black still your eyes have
never witness how the sun
rise and fall in Africa, you are
black yet you have never nod
or move your hips to any Africa
music. How free is your blood?
How thick is it? How long will
you remain slave and erased from
your Africa root? Come home peace
dwell here, come and taste the runing
water of Africa, come let Africa free you.

poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu EnyinwaReport problemRelated quotes
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America of Our Dreams

I am not in Africa
But Africa is in me,
Africa lies in my blood,
Where I was brought
up, amidst this rot;
This rot that had eaten deep
Into the heart of my Africa.
If we could right this wrong
Then we could make of Africa,
The America of our dreams.

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I see Africa

When i stand afar i see
nearer than ever
When i echo my fear
makes them bold
My race make me
speak in subdue, yet
i am proud to call
Africa my Africa
Eventhrough untied state
of Africa refuse to see
nearer than ever,
i still believe Africa is my
Africa no-matter what.
Oh great Marcus Garvey
my Africa brother, surely
Africa will remain Africa till the world dying days.

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Slave Trade

I can remember Years Ago
when i was a teenager, i
wish i listen to her, She
must have river no her eyes
now.Will i ever set my eyes
on her again? now am In chain
inside the ship to unknown
destination.Right inside the
ship i meet my fellow blacks,
we are stripped naked with
nowhere to run to and we
dare not.on our body we
have the map of the world
made from the stroke of
cane.Some of my brother
that could not make it were
throw into the ocean for the
fishes to feed on.Our prayer
was let God sent a moses to
deliver us.Here we are in the
strange land as we are been

brought as commodite, we
work day and night without
resting, who are we to compalin
some die in the field with tears
in our eye we bury our brethen.
Africa i miss your sunshine your
crops.We are free but can't go
back, not knowing the part of
Africa am from.But no matter
were i am, no matter what they
call me because of my skin
colour am proud to be a black
and i will stay black, Cos black
is beatifull.

poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu EnyinwaReport problemRelated quotes
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Irene Cara

We have a tendency in this country that when we say Black it automatically means Black Americans. But that's a big mistake, and that keeps us divided. There are Blacks all over this entire world-even in Africa.

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Funeral Dance

In Amerigo, Carnival was as hallowed as Christmas itself, perhaps slightly more
so.
There was a meaning to it. See, Islanders did not put into words, yet which
made it the authentic supreme day in the Kinjian calendar.
Africa was marching down the main street of this little harbor town today.
Africa, in undimmed black vitality, surging up out of centuries of island
displacement, island slavery, island isolation, island ignorance.
Africa, unquenchable in its burning love of life.
Carnival was Africa Day in Amerigo.

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Premeditation

Oh blade you'll warm tonight!
Awash in crimson-purple flows,
Your sheen will dull with aching flesh:
Palpating anatomic mounds
Caressing, dancing, writhing round
Your metal form-
Whetted ‘gainst a lonely bone,
Then to probe the pounding, begging heart.

And all the while the prey will howl
Before they crumple; greet the mud-
A taut and unbelieving jowl
Will open out for giving blood-
A vent from down below,
Once a brutal show
Of metal in the man.


Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010



murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder murder murder murder murder
murder murder
murder murder
murder

poem by Mark R SlaughterReport problemRelated quotes
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My Love For War

My little inner bird takes a flight with
a fixed height and sees changing lands
low and high, black and white with
camouflage seasons along with colourful
plants and tress, dancing , changing are
the notions, too, of life and love only fixed
is the hill, the symbol of greed, oceans are
of lust, blood takes the same colour, pain
gives the same suffering but different
meaning of them altogether , what love
means here, that love is not there so I wag
a war against love though overflowing in my
songs and poems, do I not have a heart?
Why can not I feel the same which I feel
for myself? or am I missing something,
the meaning of love? Have I not perceived
love from the sun? A sense! No, no, I have
no world in my wallet which can describe love!
War has a full of terminology so I love war.

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We Dug A Hole

His head is a big black hole
full of big black things
and it sucks so hard
you could never against the mud
Sugar plum, no ones ever seen anything come
ouch, what a travesty, what a sad fate
someone get a band-aid please
we gotta get this guy a machine for his cranium
I mean I don't need
maybe I don't hear what i need
this never really goes anywhere
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
We dug a hole
And put our heads in
This winter they come too quick and broad
with not enough hot spiced cider or cinnamon toast
you never think you know this but when you got a dead start
sucking up both times in your brain
things start to change
and for the record let me say
its not his fault that things never change
the summer is always too short
and still they broke up for a guy with a black hole in his head
and you'll never meet him anyway
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
We dug a hole
And put our heads in it
We dug a hole
(We dug a hole)

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Dire Wolf

In the timbers to fennario, the wolves are running round,
The winter was so hard and cold, froze ten feet neath the ground.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
I sat down to my supper, twas a bottle of red whisky,
I said my prayers and went to bed, thats the last they saw of me.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
When I awoke, the dire wolf, six hundred pounds of sin,
Was grinning at my window, all I said was come on in.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
The wolf came in, I got my cards, we sat down for a game.
I cut my deck to the queen of spades, but the cards were all the same.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
In the backwash of fennario, the black and bloody mire,
The dire wolf collects his dues, while the boys sing round the fire.
Dont murder me, I beg of you, dont murder me. please, dont murder me.
No, no, no dont murder me. I beg of you,
Dont murder me. please, dont murder me.

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Oh Africa my Africa

Oh Africa my Africa land of diamonds. Oh africa my Africa land of great kings Shaka, Haile Silasi, mandela to name a few. Oh mother Africa my Africa rich in gold.oh Africa my africa full of beautful women. Yes africa my africa land of real nature.

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My Africa

My Africa,
a monument from God
his archi-tectural piece
on pillers of golden block
built in shapely ease
the scape of my Africa

My Africa,
tended by the seas
her tender loving green
with oceans like the breeze
all living to the brim
sweet bio, my Africa

My Africa,
you bear the geniune black
her wide and curly hair
new love you never lack
at every step you dare
you're outstanding, my Africa.

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The Black Stars of Africa

The Black Stars of Africa

In the midst of so much despair
where all hope seem to be lost
the human spirit do seek repair
from an inner recess, at all cost

in all African villages crowds grow
a lone Black Star hope awakening
as the crowd enjoyed the soft glow
of the screen on that cool evening

the Vuvuzela sounds like a bee hive
the Hope of Africa is being revived
in the Black Stars of Ghana to strive
but it is the Hope of Africa survived

Nkrumah’s Independence of Ghana
meaningless unless yoked with Africa
so the Hope of Africa muster to garner
to bring hope as a Ghana vs. America

one lone Black Star ate all their stars
so black stars shine, black balloons fly
to all greater heights to erase the scars
in the skies it is the air that lifts so sly

Aftermath victory, vuvuzela so deafening
Kokorokoo! Africa must now unite as one
Nyame Okokoroko, thank you in defending
Gye Nyame! The Hope of Africa is as one.

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Our Africa

OUR AFRICA *for David Diop, ‘Africa’
This is Africa,
your Africa
With an arc of a back
Tilling with thick fingers
For new masters

The white flower died
to live differently
It always blossomed
amid pale and sickly
Black, Black flowers

The blood in your veins
once aroused you
to die for posterity
So with a love true
you died for our prosperity

But amongst us
sellouts emerged
selling Africa for a pence
like you in antiquity
in the malls of mercantility

Yes, this is Africa
Yours, mine, ours
But not the replica
of the one with warriors
Cowardice here reigns

There’s a hope though
that the warrior blood
now flowing in us
will not clot and rot
making us the impotent man
before a newly married wife

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Reflections On Fahrenheit 9/11

I can smell the raw tangy scent
of will drying in my hand
I see the shape of dreams
Escaping the bowels of the fields
Like a thick swirl of smoke from a
Tire factory’s chimney
What is life but a flash of light
A bomb can easily put out
Until no one hears a town’s last cry?
No one listens to the orphans’ prayers
Having seen too much, too early
even infants know the meaning of mortality
For life is but a slave
To a conscience run amok
For the price of every dropp
of blood of the innocent
is a heavy pocket from firearms
and napalm bombs
“No war, no weapons business!
No mutilation, no murder!
No murder, no war! ”
Grand dreams weaved in the brains
Of small bodies
Barely out of the womb
Become evanescent shades of themselves.
(11Sept06)

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