Reaching Out
The larvea if an African fly survive,
With the bush of the African trees to share a dream;
But the animations of our lives are well exposed than thought.
Oh, the kite of Africa lies so high;
But the metablism of this larvae needs to be studied.
Up high in the air,
And the African is of the hope of reaching out to the world;
But we have to harness this strength through a thin wind.
Of such a hectic life,
With inappropriate fleshly desires of man to man;
But my people need much experiences of life to survive.
The larvae of an African fly survive,
To be drawn out of water to make a move;
And like a man who has an unbelieving wife,
Our hopes and dreams are still with us to strick the even.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Survival Shake
This is no story its the key of existence
A little thing you better not forget
I dont know nothing bout its a water-resistance
Why dont you use your head
And survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
Survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
So tell me darling what you wanna be
A welcome idiot in an appletree
I shake you up and I shake you down
Down to the ground
To survive, survive, survive
You got to survive
Survive, survive
All you got to do is to survive
You just got one life
All you got to do is to survive
You just got one life
So better be careful boy
Survive, survive, survive...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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African Spirit
Unfortunately, I will not stop,
Across Africa, I will travel with this African face,
My African pride,
And my African story.
I saw your face in Zimbabwe;
Then I saw it again in South Africa.
You smiled at me in Malawi,
Why were you surprise to see me again in Angola?
I carry the African song,
Listen to soulful rhythems from within.
I have an African heart,
With lots of love and pain, it won't part.
Your African face smiles at me with inspiration,
Across Africa and the world, give me an ear;
I speak an African language.
Someday you will know my love,
Someday you will sing my song,
Someday you will hold my heart;
Someday you will cry the same tears in my eyes.
Someday you will relieve my pain,
One day you will understand me.
Someday you will join my fight an we'll make Africa our pride.
poem by Peter Phiri
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My African Land
Forgotten trodden past
Hopeful saintful future
I walk in my African land
Africa bears its fruits on crushed branches
Its children bear hope to a tortured yesterday
I walk in my African land
With its tormented heart it loves
With is abused state it sees happiness
With its crushed psyche it looks on caringly
I walk in my African land
I embrace the streets of struggle
Covered by the sands of war from a grieved soul
My African people stride in colourful clothes
As a rainbow ending stormy rage of corrupted seas
I walk in my African land
Tall buildings escalated egos
Fancy cars, classy hearts
Large salaries, tiny compassions
My Africa forgets the hardships endured
My brother forgets Ubuntu
My Africa loses sight
Still,
I walk in my African land
My Africa shines with the sun
That burns dry the tears of his people
I walk in my African land
My Africa rises to a new world of liberty
Freedom from chained minds
Freedom from captured dreams
Freedom from limited abilities
I walk in my African land
My Africa bids welcome
As I enter with pride
Knowing that the war has been won
And success awaits
I walk in my African land
poem by Gabi Ngubeni
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The African Son Glides
to elders he respect
under realistic rules he perfects
orders strength with patience
conquers foes with confidence
so much expected of his mature
too much needed of his nature
conspicuous eyes an African Son glides!
runs and roars like a tiger
laughs and lutes like a bird
honest to his kindness
loyal to his stubbornness
so long he longs for wisdom
for long strives for success
conspicuous eyes an African son glides!
an ancient mind of inabilities
such anxious heart of possibilities
that he climbs with pride
then denotes his cultures
yet lives for his tradition
a standing ovation!
are you an African son?
he cries not to wounds
he dispense not to scars
spites the evil lights
hates the evil sparks
conspicuous eyes an African Son glides!
arts in his intelligence
a kingdom of no redundancy
a divine world of innovation
enhanced in terms of denotation
thus music to his soul he enjoys
mixed lyrics to mind he bind
a true definition!
he extremes to extinction
leads with an elephant memory
controls with dirty hands of good
a bird flying low
but high enough not to be recognized
he lives in Africa and calls Africa home,
yes! min mind and spirit
a standing ovation!
becomes a prince to his father
that son is is what his mother refers
an example to his siblings
a secret admire of no faulse to the fantasy world
he lives Africa and so speaks
he dreams an African dream and true it becomes
he is the son to the land because
conspicuous eyes an African son glides
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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The Oracles
Invaders, invaders! The oracles must be consulted;
From the North to the South and,
From the East to the West are the African Oracles.
The oracles of my ancestors are,
The trademarks of my African identity to a call;
We have to consult the oracles in times of need.
Who said it is not rue?
Who said it is not powerful?
Visit the Oracles of Africa and know the truth.
The African Oracles,
Do ask Mr. Okonkwo about it;
He will tell you why,
The Whiteman's 'iron Horse' was hanged on a tree.
Oh! The oracles of my ancestors;
Out of their mystic myths,
So lay their powers.
Of their creative arts and acts,
Of their spell which makes me think otherwise;
Yet still, the African lacks behind in many things.
If onne could fly in the thin air and able to vanish,
Why can't they form a Universal Soldier in Africa? !
Those are they who are bullet-proof too;
Are these Oracles also working for them?
The oracles,
The Oracles of Africa!
With respective rites for a passer-by who,
Wants to know more about the African;
Oh, the oracles of my forefathers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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African Spokesman
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
Because, the muse of my African Stew tastes different from yours!
And, it is infused with a special ingredient from the African Soil.
I am the muse that you are reading and,
I am the African Child with my words so sweet! !
And like the love of your mind without the wars around you;
Because, i am always for the peace of this world.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I am presenting the muse of my mind from Africa to educate you;
For, mankind had now made more amumunitions for war!
But, we really don't need them when, we talk about peace on this earth.
Listen and look for peace around you always,
Learn and care for others around you always,
For education is not always about degrees! !
Because, the very professors are the very ones who made these weapons of war.
The African Spokesman is what i am,
Along the streets of Africa and around the hiding places of the ghettoes!
For, i have seen many things in my life and, i have more to tell to you;
But, like the colours of the rainbow,
We need to love each other in the name of the colours that nature gave us.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
But, if you listen very carefully, you will feel the muse of my love around you!
Because, this world is now being captured by the weapons of war than peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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African Moon
African moon
Roll with the mighty waves
Well be there soon
Feel the winds as we sail on home to african moon
African moon
My heart beats like the drum
Now it is noon
Loved ones we left behind Ill see again
African moon
African moon
I will see you once more
Yes again Ill adore the real sound of the drum
Oh yes Im sailing feel your hot sun
African moon
African moon
Looking out to the sea
A reunion therell be in the evening sun
Oh theres a new life thats awaiting me
African moon
African moon
This land is my rightful home
Well never roam
Youll weep fou your sons no more and daughters
African moon
Hold up your head
One day youll be understood
Stand and be proud
Your sorrows are gone for good
Hold up your head
And youll be satisfied!
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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African Dream
Every young African has a dream,
The very dream to get out of the poverty line;
Every dreamer has a dream,
Of dreams to prosper in life;
But, many die too young with their dreams.
It is in Africa where talents are bound,
It is in this place that we struggle to gain;
But, can we jump this fence from here?
One mortal, one number;
One man, one humdred;
We still have hopes to overcome.
One million-ways of visionaries to tap,
One thousand roses ot love to share with;
Like those of the Innovators and the Footballers.
Back to one mortal being,
Back to the days of struggle;
The Sate of Africa is entangled with poverty! !
Like a candle in the wind where,
The roses die too soon;
Every African is battling poverty.
But, can we juump this fence from here?
Rather teach a child how to fish than,
Giving the fish to eat always;
We still have this dream to overcome.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I am an African
Not because im black.
But because my heart warms
And tears run down my face
When i think about AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i live here,
But because the African
Sun lit my paths.
Because the air that i breath
Is from these majestic mountains.
That air nurtured me
Growing up.
I am an African,
Not because i can speak
Swahili, Shona, Zulu or Xhosa.
But because my heart is
Shaped like a question mark,
Just like AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i am black,
But because my umbilical cord
Is burried under the majestic
Mountains of AFRICA.
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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African Roses
Bye-bye to the African Roses,
For many years you stood strong as leaders in the name of nations;
But the youths stood up and blew you people away like a candle in the wind.
Oh North African leaders! !
Now the day is over on you people;
For your wings of leadership can no longer fly up high through the wind.
Inclusive and exclusive,
The blues and the jazz of the North African Nations are now dying out,
And the dictators are now seen by all of us in the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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I Cry & Smile Mother Africa
I'm glad, an African,
My heart beats with African rhythms,
Dance with my feet on African beats,
The essence of culture, and everything.
Very happy with my colour of chocolate,
Uniquely gifted with talents,
Black and shinning like a star,
Not because born on African soil,
But proudly meant to be.
I cry 'cuz of what's happening
To me and my mother Africa,
Whilst those I consider as my brothers
And sisters are in laughters and cheers.
Strangers come and take our livelihood,
But the world regards them as heroes,
When it comes to morning I'm alive,
I don't know whether the sun will set.
Mother Africa dry eyes and
Reverse the joy that I had,
Everybody admires you,
You are adorable Mother Africa,
Land of heroic and valiant people.
Essence of love, nature,
Enormous mountains, beautiful rivers,
This day you embrace the entire world
But I still hold a gigantic cry
And smile Mother Africa.
poem by Kiyaga Lyttle Cephas
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Our Survival
We shall survive distance.
We shall survive space.
But can we survive the loneliness
that we have to face?
We shall survive winter.
We shall survive spring.
But can we survive the guilt
of the wedding ring?
We shall survive long nights.
We shall survive days.
But can we survive the longings
that always and forever stays?
We shall survive suspicion.
We shall survive fear.
But can we survive living
without each other, dear?
We shall survive all of this
if we put our love first.
We shall survive hunger.
We shall survive thirst
only if this love is true.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The White African
The White African
By
Ross Dix-Peek
Over the great ocean seas
My ancestors did choose to flee,
Europe’s rumblings and poverty,
And to “Darkest Africa” did journey
It was many, many years past,
When Queen Vic’ was still at the mast,
When my forebears resolute did come,
To live beneath the great African sun
Since has Mother Africa suckled our young
To us her lullabies and sweet songs sung,
And all this time ‘neath her fiery mantle
Did my people in Africa live, toil and battle
Africa is not for the mild and the meek,
It's no place at all for the feeble and the weak,
And the days oft be savage and so very long,
Yes, it's only for the brave and the very strong
Many generations did pass, and many years shorn,
Before I too upon African soil was born,
Like my fathers’ before, a White African,
Created and cast beneath her scorching sun
And although I have since her rugged shores left,
My soul to Mother Africa’s bosom will forever be cleft,
And though I may miss the tight embrace of an African sun,
It matters not, for I will forever be a White African!
poem by Ross DixPeek
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So long, too long!
So long, too long!
Back in the days and back in time;
Struggling from the roots of Africa to identify myself;
But, born in 1961! !
So long, too long!
From yesterday with my muse of love;
And like today with the problems of the earth,
But, is this the future? ! !
The African story,
The African struggle,
The African muse,
The African experience,
The African hardships,
With the hustle and bustle to identify myself to the status of this world;
But, i am still moving on without giving up! !
For, nobody knows tomorrow.
So long, too long!
But, all the fingers are not equal;
And like the movements of the snail and tortoise,
However, i will surely reach there when you also do get there.
This life,
This muse,
This continent,
This mind,
This writer and his story! !
But, it has taken me so long, too long!
This is my life,
This is my muse,
This is my mind,
This is myact,
And, i am now presenting my love to you;
But, it has taken me so long, too long!
1961,
Born in Africa;
Yes, from 1961 to the present time! !
Struggling to make ends meet;
And, like the life seen in the slums of Africa!
But, it has taken me so long, too long! !
Africa, Africa, Africa, Africa! ! !
The land of my birth and my homeland;
But, i am still finding my way through the dark forest to represent myself to the world,
With hopes and dreams every now ansd then without giving up!
But, it has taken me so long, too long! !
Back in the days,
Oh yes! ! And, like the days of yesterday gone by;
But today, you can read my lines to know who i am!
And like the muse of sweet love in the land of peace,
But, it has taken me so long, too long!
This is it,
This is me,
That is it,
That is my muse,
Here i am and, this is my mind! !
With the sweet love from my heart brewed in the African Pot;
Touching the minds of many and, ready to educate others,
But, it has taken me so long, too long!
Come and enter into my world so sweet with your love,
Come and taste the muse of my love with your mind,
And like the aroma of sweet love from the bed of roses;
Where, the delight of love is crowned with peace and care,
But, this journey on this earth started from my mother's womb.
Oh yes! ! in the land of Africa to represent my muse;
Out of the womb of my mother to cry out to the world! !
And like the tears of love in the land of beautiful flowers,
However, it has taken me so long, too long!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Dreams Make the World Go 'Round
'Hope is a waking dream.' Aristotle
Hope is a dream - a survival of our inner thoughts,
Love is a hope that opens up our hearts,
A smile in our face that makes the love go round,
Your word and mine - its meaning well defined.
A dream woven in earnest honesty
A resolute of hope that love awaits for thee,
For we'll survive in hope that dreams gone by
A bridge connects our distance way up high.
The dream we make - a light shines in our eyes,
Connections made a way back in our present lives,
To think of us in dreams of hope impart
A promise persevered in the nook of our faithful heart.
Though dreams let go of love for now to explore,
The dream of love way back still strong and so secure,
For dreams survive in hope for love's stronghold
The torch of hope - still a dream we do uphold.
Live on with dreams to make your world go round,
Lock away the hope of love for now 'till time is ripe,
Connect that bridge 'make hope a waking dream'
Hope to survive for love the second time again.
August 5,2007
Toronto
poem by Jona PoloRamirez
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The larvae
the larvae
it has grown
shed its ugly days
crept out of dried brown leaf
in a lovely batik
to start a princely life
crowned with two wings
it has flown high into the sky
as if to announce its glory
it now has honey as food
and flowers as friends
never once in its larvae days
it has thought life would turn out
to be so grand
the man too has grown, shrivelled
and passed away
leaving a world of colourful imagination
as to its existence beyond
perhaps he too now lives a grand life
somewhere.... in a garden
leaving the drab existence behind
like the larvae that leaves its brown leaf
to fly away a glory of nature
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Africa Hosts to Win
Good luck to all the African teams
I can already feel as Africa beams
my wish that an African team wins
Is not like searching in a bag of pins
but as a just reward for Africa’s toil
First ever world cup on African soil
Yes, the trophy goes to the very best
yet the race not to be for the swiftest
who may scorn to underrate the rest
but defeat with gusts is the sweetest
Lift high the flag of Africa’s new hope
with resolve to win enter the contest
calm waters make no sailors to cope
but dexterity comes from its conquest
Juggle balls with selfless team spirit
Have no fear! Within you lie so deep
a fountain of inbuilt courage, inspirit
the trophy is home so yours to keep
Let the drums of festivity roll again
in truth and indeed of a giant whole
new victories on ancient ruins regain
Go! Win! Let us make it…A GOAL!
There is another hosting that is real
its originality is from a divine source
that Africa is the true nurturing meal
that would sustain the earth as a force.
If life started from Africa but now in ruins
then its offspring sitting on lofty heights
to look down on its molehills as ill reins
are the fetters that can loosen its bights.
© Dela Bobobee
June 2010
poem by Dela Bobobee
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African Boy
I am a young African boy
A unique individual with my own personal inspiration
Which is the golden key to build my future.
With a mind confused
I can still reach politely to others.
With a heart that's has been destroyed
I can still feel and care for others.
With pain that has cut deep down in my heart
I can still fell sympathy for others. with all that is in me I can still overcome those situations.
I can be a person I am
The one whose heart is filled with joy and passion.
I am a young African boy.
I'm proud of my black badged African skin.
I am an African
Not because I was born here
But because my heart beats with Africa.
Not because my skin is black
But because my mind is engaged by Africa.
I am an African
Not because I live on its soil
But because my soul is at home in Africa.
When Africa weeps for her children
My chicks are stained with tears.
When Africa honor her elders
My head is bowed with respect.
When Africa mourns for her victims
My hands are joined in prayer.
Africa my home
Africa my land
Land of peace
Land of my forefathers
Land of my birth
When Africa celebrates her triumphs
My feet are alive with dancing.
poem by Elvis Fout
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I'm a proud African child
I'm a pretty bud
growing out of the mud,
I'm a blessed child -
tame and free in mind,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a precious stone,
neither am I broken nor torn,
A precious stone am I -
treasure to the nation's eye,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a star in midnight
which gives a spark of light,
Like a diamond in the sky
I dwell with pride in the high,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm the hope for the future,
a pure seed of true virtue,
A fragrant leaf of uncorrupt nature,
A beneficiary of unlimited adventure,
I'm a proud African child.
I'm a child of God
out of doom and gloom called,
I'm more precious than gold
and even more special than a goat,
I'm really a Proud African Child.
poem by Comfort Ndlovu
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50 Years on This Physical Earth
50 years on this physical earth,
But husting and busting to make my name known t the world!!
Because, i have a message at hand;
And, it is not easy being born in Africa and being raised in Africa from a very poor family!
For, i can't stop the rain from falling on my head when,
I have no roof!!!
And like what is going on today in East Africa!
With the reflections of one of my Art Works called: 'We don't have aids but hunger'! !
Yes, from the very acts of my mind;
Because i am an African,
And i do know what it means to be in Africa.
Today, i am to thank Father Yahweh for all of His mercy and kindness towards me;
For He had really guided my steps from thr rough paths of an African's own story,
And, let His Mercy endures forever!!
For Africa is for the Africans and we have to know what goes on around us everyday;
And, in the land of Africa i was born,
But, have you to say?!!
Because, i am very proud to be an African!
And like the muse of your love in the land of many waters that satisfies us all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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