On being Brought from Africa to America
the sea and the sky help express
a cherished freedom
the courageous eagles
span their wings to measure
smitting us with their breathless flights
the sea and sky reflect to us the
freedom that holds the dreams of
us all, black or white, yellow or brown
of love, things wordly or spiritual
the whiteness of clouds
is hailed by the bright yellow
glare of sun that distils and brings
forth rain to replenish our land
the black of nights
is hailed by glitters of
stars that inspire dreams
for all of us to strive for a better world
a freedom spreads clear as night and day
distinct as black or white
the sky holds it up and
the sea roars in approval
all the way from africa to america
inspired by
Phillis Wheatley 's
On being Brought from Africa to America
'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.'
Remember, Christians, Negro's, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
On Being Brought from Africa to America
'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
"Their colour is a diabolic die."
Remember, Christians, Negro's, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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One Being Brought From Africa To America
'TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought now knew,
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.'
Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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God's Sense Of Humor
And God created man!
Yellow, black and white men
They all love each other?
Yellow men in Asia
Black men in Africa
White men in Europe
All color of men in America
They all love each other?
And God created woman!
Yellow, black and white women
They all love each other?
Yellow women in Asia
Black women in Africa
White women in Europe
All color of women in America
They all love each other?
And God created man and woman!
Yellow, black and white men and women
All living together in a love, hate relationship
All living together in America
With rainbow colored children
Black and white children
Yellow and black children
Who just love to be a free American?
For Drew and Allan
poem by Doris Dzameshie
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America
(Francis Scott Key)
Oh, say, can you see
By the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed
At the twilight's last gleaming
Whose broad stripes and bright stars
Through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched were so
Gallantly streaming?
America, America, America
America, America, America
And the rocket's red glare
The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night
That our flag was still there
Oh, say, does that star
Spangled banner yet wave
Over the land of the free
And the home of the brave!
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America, America
America, America
ooohhh
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Man In America
Black Man In America for to long our chains held us so tight
beaten down as far as the dust chained to the night
Black Man In America can't you see
we free now at least physically
but freedom isn't free if we still enslaved mentally
Black Man In America stand up and let your voices be heard your families are calling you because they don't deserve to be deserted or mistreated
let us be stronger than they because the greatest retalation is providing a successful way
for your black babies and mine to have a brighter day
they are calling out to you heed their cry and respond favorably to them saying here am I
Black Man In America we must continue to wage this fight and let our hands be strong and our fingers do the fightin'
Black Man In America a success you must become because without success our freedom wasn't really won
Black Man In America stand up and be heard its imperative for you to provide the light for a brighter day that your children so richly deserve
Black Man In America
poem by Julius Thomas
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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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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.
poem by Dela Bobobee
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History In The Making
history was in the making on this very day
where Barack Obama became the 44th president of the u.s.a.
for two years he campaigned across this nation of ours
and brought to light, graft and political power.
he brought to light that it was 'time for change'
and this country will never be the same.
he tore down the walls of discrimination
and oppression in this land
and told america it was time to take a stand.
he showed the people that freedom can ring
and made this nation stand up and sing.
no other inauguration in the history of man
could compare to this in our promised land.
the world had been watching every move we make
of that there is no mistake.
and the only thing that this world could see
'was abe lincoln sitting in his chair'
happy faces every where.
the dreams of simple men this day came to life
when the first black president
stood there with his wife.
Lincoln, Kennedy, King, to name just a few
have finally gotten to see their dreams come true.
equality is what we sought
and for equality is what we fought.
this was the dream of this nation
this dream is our salvation
so america we stand with pride
for in this land freedom rides.
poem by Louis Rams
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I am a man of black and white
I am a man of black and white,
my name is written on the gates of the sky.
i am a man of black and white
my origin is united, yet two apart.
I speak the language of the whites,
but lost in the language of the blacks.
i am a man of black and white,
my resemblance is same with the blacks.
I am a man of black and white,
i was brought up in the land of the whites.
i am a man of black and white,
my home is in the south-east, in the abode of my black dad.
I am a man of black and white,
i love the aspirations of life.
i am a man of black and white,
although two apart, we are united as one.
poem by Randy Micheal
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America, So Beautiful.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because of German Polkas, and beer.
It's because of Irish corned beef, and potatoes.
It's because of French wines, and escargot.
It's because of soul food, from the hood,
The kind you find in Big Momma's,
In Cathedral City California.
It's because of Mexican food,
And the Mariachi's that accompany it.
It's because of the Hawaiian Poi,
And the Alaskan, fish ice cream.
It's because of the Italian Operas,
And spaghetti and meat balls.
It's because of the English language,
Brought to America,
By the subjects of the king.
America is blue eyes,
America is green eyes,
America is black eyes,
America is brown eyes,
America is blond hair,
America is red hair,
America is black hair,
And my all time favorite,
America is brown hair.
America is Japanese sushi,
America is Chinese hot and spicy soup.
America is mountains,
Beautiful snow covered mountains,
Shining in the sun.
America is deserts,
Hot arid and unforgiving,
And filled with life.
America is forests,
That extend,
'From sea to shining sea.'
America is ingenuity,
Great minds, from all over the world,
Reach their great fruition,
In America.
Where they are free.
Why is America the beautiful,
So beautiful?
It's because America is a rainbow,
Red, white, black, yellow, brown,
And all the myriads of colors,
These main colors produce.
It's so cliche to say,
We are a melting pot.
I prefer to say, What the great Bill Murray said.
'We are a mongrel race.'
Yet nothing on God's green Earth,
Is more loyal, more faithful, more loving,
And more devoted,
Than the mongrel.
America the beautiful.
poem by Juan Olivarez
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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 Louis
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For America
As if I really didnt understand
That I was just another part of their plan
I went off looking for the promise
Believing in the motherland
And from the comfort of a dreamers bed
And the safety of my own head
I went on speaking of the future
While other people fought and bled
The kid I was when I first left home
Was looking for his freedom and a life of his own
But the freedom that he found wasnt quite as sweet
When the truth was known
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
Its in my blood and in my bones
By the dawns early light
By all I know is right
Were going to reap what we have sown
As if freedom was a question of might
As if loyalty was black and white
You hear people say it all the time-
My country wrong or right
I want to know what thats got to do
With what it takes to find out whats true
With everyone from the president on down
Trying to keep it from you
The thing I wonder about the dads and moms
Who send their sons to the vietnams
Will they really think their way of life
Has been protected as the next war comes?
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
Her shining dream plays in my mind
By the rockets red glare
A generations blank stare
We better wake her up this time
The kid I was when I first left home
Was looking for his freedom and a life of his own
But the freedom that he found wasnt quite as sweet
When the truth was known
I have prayed for america
I was made for america
I cant let go till she comes around
Until the land of the free
Is awake and can see
And until her conscience has been found
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statue of Liberty
the statue of liberty,
it's either black or white
depends on who you are.
it turned quite black
years ago but refurbished
to look brand new, of course
the last thing it should do
is turn black.
the hackneyed mushy
writings about the relief
our ancestors heaved
while reaching america's shores
upon seeing this statue
is a white lie.
the only thing if at all,
the liberty statue
has come to anything is
that it is still trying hard
to stand up for what it is
- to stand tall in the darkest hours
and the broadest daylight.
its torch is marble and never really meant
to illuminate right from wrong.
it wept silent tears over the mockeries
heaped upon him, that it was the first to greet rusty chains, shackles, corpses...
and skin-covered starved and
all human indignities day in and day out
when it was installed.
amid these, the white angels to the
new land claimed for freedom laughed
and perpetrated similar injustices
that fuelled their flight.
america's freedom has always lay
in the hearts of sincere americans - black or white.
our statue needs a real torch and flame
to brighten up those corners of our hearts that we have kept dark.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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A Song
well i hate to sing this song
this song written in black on white
the black words so prominent on the white sheet
in the proclamation of democracy
well, is there at all democracy in Whitman's world or to be exact
white men's world? Whitman's song of a great land and love of comrades how deceptive, unloving
oh what a black discovery to know that poets
too could be blinded to the real state of the world
racism, injustice; the loads of chained souls that arrived to greet
the Statue of Liberty, epitome of world freedom
in actuality always chained, mocked in black and white
oh the repair of the Statue a hundred years later
the main desire to whitewash it, whiten it
the last thing the statue should turn is black
this great land, how i wish the vision of liberty
would be viewed in the the Chinese principle of Ying and Yang
an equilibrium of black and white contributing to
a wholesome mind, body, spirit
in the plain of the wild i i cry out a justice song
day and night, of white light that brightens the dark night
and white stars that coujld only glitter sparkle like diamonds
in the darkness of the night
inspired by
A Song
COME, I will make the continent indissoluble;
I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon;
I will make divine magnetic lands,
With the love of comrades,
With the life-long love of comrades.
I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of
America, and along the shores of the great lakes, and all over
the prairies;
I will make inseparable cities, with their arms about each other's
necks;
By the love of comrades,
By the manly love of comrades.
For you these, from me, O Democracy, to serve you, ma femme! 10
For you! for you, I am trilling these songs,
In the love of comrades,
In the high-towering love of comrades.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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America, My America
America, my America land of liberty,
what can you say has happened to thee?
Can you still say with pride
just how you feel?
Or is the pride over
can you hear the eagle's squeal?
You fought hard for freedom
but you stole freedom too.
You stole it from the red man
many years ago.
You stole it from the black man
whose back was bent down low.
Your sons and daughters of which I am one
are wondering now where's the sun?
It still shines, but not quite as bright.
The Lady in the harbor cries silently in the night.
I think you were an experiment
designed to take a fall.
America, my America
you're not standing quite as tall.
Another day is over.
We are deeper in debt.
Your main street is flooding
like Katrina, all wet.
And so it is with sadness
I awaken every morn
and am filled with remorse
that the place where I was born
is not America, a land of liberty.
It's just another country with a false reality.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Yellow School Bus
The yellow school bus with the black wheels took sick children to school each day.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether or not the sky was gray.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels went pass three streets and up a hill.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was driven whether sunny or chilled.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels always brought a smile to little kids face.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was filled with love and filled with grace.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels kept breathing until that final breath.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels was painted red with blood and death.
The yellow school bus with the black wheels and the little sick children were all of friends.
But the now dead children will never take a ride in the yellow school bus again.
poem by RaShawn Ince
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Incantation
A white well
In a black cave;
A bright shell
In a dark wave.
A white rose
Black brambles hood;
Smooth bright snows
In a dark wood.
A flung white glove
In a dark fight;
A white dove
On a wild black night.
A white door
In a dark lane;
A bright core
To bitter black pain.
A white hand
Waved from dark walls;
In a burnt black land
Bright waterfalls.
A bright spark
Where black ashes are;
In the smothering dark
One white star.
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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God is not merely interestd in the freedom of brown men, yellow men, red men and black men.He is interested in the freedom of the whole human race.
quote by Martin Luther King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Black men, White men
should i be led to believe
that the white men's heart
is soft as cotton? and when
touched, is torched, bursts into flame
to settle comfortably in black,
a trail of humble lesson for the soul
should i be led to believe
that a black man's heart is
full of courage? charging like a bull
through America black or white
settling for nothing in between?
should i be led to believe that
black and white work the
theory of ying and yang
ever balancing to rev up the world?
rice would even grow in bush
black hair turns eventually into
a crown of white wisdom
and blackboards light up
knowledge in white chalk
white shines at its best in black
and where else but a piece of white
where black could make its clearest stamp
of its stand - left or right, right or wrong
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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