Somewhere in Angola
Somewhere in Angola
you were planted
back into African soil
from where you sprouted
to make it young again
with blood
marked with a small cross
that’s blown away by the dry wind
and there you
child of God
also found a Golgotha
and I wonder how many boys:
still have to fall in Africa
before the last shots ring?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
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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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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Son Of Africa
Listen Africa listen!
Listen to the words of a stallion
Listen as I speak of a giant,
An African giant
A giant entangled by his own hand made snares
Yes! Indodana ya se Africa
Un-wax your ears and Listen
Great warrior of the chimurenga,
Phela you stood against white powers
And liberated black wishes
Against the Blairs and Bushes you stood.
Courageous, you battled the spite of the Smith.
Now listen Ndodana ya se Africa
Hear this young stallion galloping towards the truth.
In Limbo you stand snared by your own snares
In Limbo, you warrior remain just a memory
Hau lalela son of the soil,
It’s your people who go under the soil
Their calabashes are dry, they go under the soil.
Under the soil their bellies lie empty
Hau lalela Ndodana ya se Africa
Listen son of Africa
Do not stand as proud as death
Do not let its sting be your companion
An African warrior you must once more become
Adorn the spirit of Madiba, No easy walk to freedom
Remember...Listen...Remember.
T he Ndukus and the rocks, Africa’s weapons of old
Now Son of the Soil’s desires battle against Africa
Hau listen son of Africa
Lalela...listen...lalela
poem by David Lekoba
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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.
poem by Fasan paul
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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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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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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 Enyinwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dust Of Africa
The dust of Africa,
Born into the mist of a dusty atmosphere;
What does the future hold for us?
Oh Africa! Oh Africa! ! Oh Africa! ! !
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
From the desert up there to the south,
The wind blows the natural air to all mankind.
On this earth,
We Africans are mixed with a dusty air!
The dust of Africa,
Have you seen it in Libya, Tunisia, Egypt and Morocco?
The dust of Africa,
What about Algeria, Western Sahara and Mauritania?
The dust of Africa,
Do visit Mali, Niger, Chad, Sudan, Eritrea and Ethiopia;
Also, down south to Namibia!
The misty mix of a Black Continent;
Oh Africa! The dust of Africa! !
To the outstretched sandy dust of the desert,
This could be sold for money.
What about the West Coast of Africa?
From Senegal, Gambia, Guinea Bissau, Guinea and Sierra Leone;
From Liberia, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso, Ghana and Togo;
From Benin to Nigeria with the same problem of the dust,
The dusty wind changes the colour in our rooms too.
Live in Africa to experience this act,
Shop in Africa to know the facts;
From Cameroon, Central African Republic and Congo Brazzaville;
From The Democratic Republic of Congo, Kenya and Uganda;
From Tanzania, Angola, Zambia, Zimbabwe and Mozambique;
From Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, Somalia and South Africa;
Our eyes and our clothes do ell it all in Madagascar also.
What about Cape Verde Island, Comoros Island and Mauritius?
What about Seychelles, Equatorial Guinea, Sao Tome and Principe?
Dusty wind, dusty wind, the dusty wind of Africa!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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angola the African dream
Angola, the African Dream.
A box of photos, black & white and amber, under the old woman’s
bed, tell of young faces and success. Cars drive up and down
an avenue called Liberty. Angola, even the most humble state
functionary had a black servant. And the white people were deaf
to the dark voices of independence.
The Portuguese settlers had been promised a land of plenty, and
the local people would be their willing serfs. Foreign legion soldiers
helped them flee the wrath of the exploited. Back in Portugal again,
dipping their hands in manual work, the African dream was over.
Photos never tell a story it’s a blank canvas made up of shadows
and the unspoken. Memories will be sweet and often untrue.
People who had to return back to poverty, will insist they brought
civilization to Angola, especially now that the avenue of Liberty,
in Luanda, is potholed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Lorenzo
Once upon a time I made a lion roar -
He was sleeping in the sunbeams on the old zoo floor.
I had gone to see the park where my papa used to play,
Its called called villa borghese and its on the way
To east africa.
Down on grand comoro island, where I grew past four,
I could swim and fish and snorkel on the ocean floor,
And the wind laughed, and the wind laughed through the trees as if to say,
Heres a child wholl want the world to go his way
In east africa, in east africa.
Suddenly for me the world turned upside down -
Far from my friends the lions and the dolphins came this awful sound.
Dark shadows, sounds of thunder raging over me,
Came this monster called a-dre-no-leu-ko-dys-tro-phy
Wheres my east africa?
Well they said, they said, they said (the ones who know it all)
They said from now on for you there will be no more standing tall,
So I took my parents hands, I lifted my head to say
Ill just have to be a hero, theres no other way!
Back to east africa
Back to east africa
Back to east africa
Come with me Im going back, going back to east africa.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boys Are Back In Town
Guess who just got back today
Them wildout boys, that'd been away
Haven't changed, had much to say
But man I still think them cats are great
They were asking if you were around
How you was, where you could be found
Told them you were living downtown
Driving all the old men crazy
The Boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I Said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
You know that chic who used to dance a lot?
Every night she'd be on the floor, shaken what she got
Man when I tell you she was cool she was red hot
I mean she was steamin'
And that time over at Johnny's place
When this chic got up and slapped Johnny's face
Man we just fell about the place
What that chic don't wanna know forget 'er
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
Spread the word around
Guess who's back in town
You spread the word around
Friday night they'll be dressed to kill
Down at Dino's bar and grill
The drinks will flow and blood would spill
If the boys wanna fight you better let 'em
That kid rocks down at the corner blasting out my favourite song
The nights are getting warmer and won't be long
Wont be long till the summer comes
Now that the boys are here again
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
(Spread the word around)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(The boys are back, the boys are back)
The boys are back in town again
They're hanging out at Dino's
The boys are back in town again
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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I love Africa
I love Africa
and although the blood
of my forefathers flowed
to stay here
there is no fear in me
even when shots were fired at me during war
as somewhere the signs
of the white is thundered in
as if falling from the sky itself
and although the black comes right through
the red brown sand
en you find it in drums,
indunas dancing with spears around fires
and it pierces right through you,
and wherever you go you find it
and everywhere there are hungry people,
broken by poverty
that prays for rain
while drought makes the desert spread
I still want to stay in my Africa
and after more than three hundred years
even though culture and language
makes a own mark
we are blown with sand by the same wind
and only people,
visitors to this incredible continent
that belongs to all the children
that she brings forth.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Landmines and Amputees
From Angola to Cambodia
from Mozambique to Bosnia
from Afghanistan to Iraq and Iran
from Egypt, Kuwait to Somalia,
we are the amputees, the living witness,
to the ghosts of war.
Why are landmines
planted in the soil of our existence -
in our farms, in our parks,
in our forests and playgrounds,
in all the sacred corners
of our lives?
Why are they planted
to betray our freedom
to take away our trust
in the soil of our existence
to steal away our innocense
and laughter and
to transform our days and nights
into screams of pain and horror?
How many Dianas will come and visit us?
How many Ottawa Conventions
should be signed?
How many Nobel Peace Prize winners
should be named
before our soil of existence
can be declared
as safety zones?
How many more wars should men
in the world create
to agonize
our spirits and bodies?
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The fallen Cuban soldier
Your hand lies stretched out
and still holds on to your Ak
where you lie in Angola,
in the African bush in the last sleep
and in Luanda
and later in Havana
they know that you are missing
and are probably dead.
Nobody of your unit
will ever again,
drive tanks and armoured cars
and their general
does not wait on their return.
Somewhere in Cuba a woman mourns
and waits in vain,
to ever again
hear something from you.
You lifted your weapon
against boys from South Africa
and the bullets of an Afrikaner boy
pierced you.
Your camouflage uniform
is stained with blood
and you are placed in a hole
in the red-brown sand
and white powder,
is dropped on top of you
before you become a part
of the cold earth.
Later a Ovambo’s farm goats
will graze above you and eat
from the thorn bushes,
that grows over you
and you will be forgotten by everyone.
[Ak=Ak47 submachine gun.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shots
Shots
Ringing all along the borders can be heard
Striking out like a venom in the sky
Cutting through the air faster than a bird
In the night.
Children
Are lost in the sand, building roads with little hands
Trying to join their fathers castles together again
Will they make it? who knows where or when
Old wounds will mend?
Machines
Are winding their way along, looking strong
Building roads and bringing back loads and loads
Of building materials
In the night
Men
Are trying to move the borders on the ground
Lines between the different spots that each has found
But back home another scene was going down
In the night.
Lust
Comes creepin through the night to feed on hearts
Of suburban wives who learned to pretend
When they met their dreams end
In the night.
Shots
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots
I keep hearing shots
I hear shots.
Shots
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots
I keep hearing shots
I hear shots.
But Ill never use your love,
You know Im not that kind
And so if you give your heart away
I promise to you
Whatever we do
That I will always be true.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love take me home
Take me back to where it all began
Take me back to the first of where we ran
Take me back to Africa, where I see the diverse culture's falling in love
With their beautiful difference's.
Although I sometimes want to be alone and celebrate you, my love,
I want to go home before I die.
This life of falling in love gives me ‘suicidal romance'
We've gone too far, let's go back.
It was back in Africa where I found you, ‘my love'
It is back in Africa where I want you to take me ‘my love'.
It was back in Africa where I wanted to make you my wife before I die.
The beauty of Africa reflected in your eyes, yet so dark and yet so far.
Although sometimes I want to be alone and celebrate you, ‘my love'
Please take me home before I die.
poem by Chase NQUBEKO
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Second Skin
The bullets deep, Im not dreaming,
The blood I keep, while youre healing.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Second skin.
Youre riding high, you wont be falling
Dont look behind, Im crawling.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Oh you could have been born to swim,
You could have been born to camouflage.
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Does it pull ? a ring around your finger ?
Does it hurt ? and will it linger on ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you found your second skin, second wind ?
Have you have you have you have you x5
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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