African Woman
She was born in the hands of a bloom fragrance
She was cuddled in the realm of pure innocence
She wore a clean culture root
She swelled a decent design youth
She had a black thick Rainy jungle on her head
They described her strength for earning bread
She had a hip that tells the handiwork of boundless powers
Her chick glitter like a dozen of silver flowers
She walk like a cat tripping herself
She sit gently like a king whose sense are deaf
Her legs are like bronze mould with ultimate perfection
Her face is like rocket fastly rising doubtless impression
Her words are like milk digested through the ears
Her smile is like a chilled wind rising curious hairs
She is an african woman rubies in every village
Her beauty is a gem circling in their heritage
poem by Kemurl Fofanah
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Related quotes
Zen
and then he
asked about all these things:
must you
have heard about the
ten deaf
dwarfs of
the islands of Acidophiles?
the sound of one hand
clapping on the
hills of
Pedophilisimones?
in his innocence he
prostrates himself upon the ground
and listens
to the ears of the earth
the hands of some roots
buried underneath
it is Zen
and the doZen
and the
froZen moments of
ZenO
He shakes his head
rising up and that is what happens
when he finally gets
his much deserved
Zero, the illegitimate brother
of Zorro.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Anani
The thick African culture and the thick African lips,
A voice from a village for you to hear at last;
For Anani is deeply asleep from thre troubles of this world,
But he will wake up to the facts of life one day.
To be carried away by the hawk in the name of an adventure!
But man born of woman will still wake up to learn from his past;
For the thick lips of the Africans have something to say.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Eighth Wonder
Thy Smile
To Our Loving Daughter
It’s the Eighth Wonder on earth
And the First Wonder elsewhere.
Like a ray of a distant star
Thy smile flashes across our world.
Like a dropp of heavenly shower
It gently touches our souls.
Neither the enigmatic smile of Lisa
Nor the smile of Vinci’s model
Compared unto thy heavenly smile
For thou art God’s Gift with divine features.
Thy eyes do smile too
For they’re the lights of the Heavenly Star.
Thy smile is the handiwork of God,
Thy smile is the medicine to every grieving soul,
Thy smile is the utterance of God
Who dwells in the innocence of babes,
Thy smiling eyes do express Heavenly Light.
Let’s imbibe thy smile and dwell in innocence,
For innocence is beauty born of virtues.
poem by MBJ Pancras
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My Mothers Hair
One of your hairs fell out last night:
A piece of your life was gone without a sound.
I know a difficult day is coming,
My heart, pierced, utters a quiet cry.
Let my childhood smile again in the sun
And turn me into an innocent little head louse
So I can crawl through the jungle of your hair
And sing a song of darkness in its fragrance.
Under your fingernail-roof Ill sleep in my house;
In my black dream Ill water your black trees.
Ill pick black fruits, and hair-jungle bees
Will bring me black poems to be opened.
How will I live, without your hair?
How will I breathe, without its fragrance?
How will I survive, when I am discovered
By ghosts of wooden combs combing your hair?
Let me wear shows made of dawn-flowers
And crawl without a sound into your sleep.
Ill take the place of the hair that's gone
And sing of hair-clouds flying from night to day.
poem by Ovwigho Joseph Ovedje
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I Love The African Woman
I Love The African Woman
I love the African woman
Her golden eyes
Burnt by smoke yet remained pure
Her black hair
Burdened by loads yet remained long
I love the African woman
Her dark lips
Kissed and chewed by men, Black and White
Yet remained full and thick
Her tender breast
Fondled by hands, smooth and callous
Yet remained firm and tall
At her back great men slept
On her laps heroes were nursed
At the meeting of her thighs all men dream
Her feet, hardened and bruised
Yet she keep moving
With pride
With dignity
I love her African heart
I love her African passion
I love the African woman
poem by Joseph Eli Atisu
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22
As I cannot touch you
With my fingers, as I cannot take a longer
Gaze at you without being condemned
As I cannot be always with you even longer than a minute, as I cannot sit beside you without being
Despised, as I cannot talk to you about
How people love and love so true
Without being ridiculed,
As I cannot
Offer you fresh white flowers as symbols of my affection,
As I cannot send you a greeting card wishing you well,
As I cannot hold your hand even in casual friendship,
As I cannot
Take you to dinner and be myself sharing
What I can give you,
As I cannot
Hug you and kiss you and make love to you even in the wildest of my dreams imaginations without me dying in sin and guilt
As I cannot walk with you in a park
Without being
Ostracized by this decent society
I will just think of you in milder forms in decent thoughts,
And write about you in clean and clear words,
That will just be enough.
I always look at you on this one-way mirror tinted with silver,
And so you do not notice
And so no one knows.
Because,
Strictly, I am prohibited
And that to me is loud and clear.
And by all means within my powers, I have to gently obey.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I will always be writing about you
As I cannot touch you
With my fingers, as I cannot take a longer
Gaze at you without being condemned
As I cannot be always with you even longer than a minute, as I cannot sit beside you without being
Despised, as I cannot talk to you about
How people love and love so true
Without being ridiculed,
As I cannot
Offer you fresh white flowers as symbols of my affection,
As I cannot send you a greeting card wishing you well,
As I cannot hold your hand even in casual friendship,
As I cannot
Take you to dinner and be myself sharing
What I can give you,
As I cannot
Hug you and kiss you and make love to you even in the wildest of my dreams imaginations without me dying in sin and guilt
As I cannot walk with you in a park
Without being
Ostracized by this decent society
I will just think of you in milder forms in decent thoughts,
And write about you in clean and clear words,
That will just be enough.
I always look at you on this one-way mirror tinted with silver,
And so you do not notice
And so no one knows.
Because,
Strictly, I am prohibited
And that to me is loud and clear.
And by all means within my powers, I have to gently obey.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Beauty
There goes the the marubic one,
So perfect like a cherubic pure stone,
Realising the ability in her strength,
A smile she displays all day long,
So noble, she is a woman of virtue,
Who is her man? The world asks,
Such gift he posseses they adorn
Beauty management, whats her story
She walks past the dusty streets,
Yet her beauty the dust it resists,
What ointment does she use,
Her face the embodiment of beauty,
So perfect and glorious to them,
Them that appreciate beauty and virtue,
Is it her fine art that flourish her beauty,
Or maybe the wonders of the creator,
Such beauty I never saw,
Such smile the world longs to see
Perfect and ultimately flawless
Beauty is an under statement we know,
What words shall I then use,
Copacetic, a woman with boldness,
Let the man look and ponder,
To look behold and wonder,
Such perfection we never saw,
Such a smile, a flawless act
Your eyes so round and shiny,
Stare at me, yes I will smile
Your lips so soft and ever juicy,
Kiss me and I wont run away
Like the clouds, your whitey teeth shine
Arranged like the stones of the great wall
So consistant and ever oderly,
Your beauty, so magnificent
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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In My Arms
(8/31/12)
When you are holding the woman you love in your arms
Snuggling up on the couch, and feeling her heartbeat
Pounding against your chest, and feeling her slow breaths.
You feel as if nothing else in the world matters
And that nothing can touch this moment of pure ecstasy
Then you know that this is where you was meant to be.
She grabs your hand and pulls it closer to her chest
And you feel that if she pulls it closer, she'll be out of breath
You take your other hand and hug her to let her know
That you care, and for her you'll always be there.
You kiss her forehead and tell her you love her
With all your heart- and that you'll never part
She looks up at you with a smile on her face
And on your lips a kiss she does place.
You look deeply into each others eyes
And your passion becomes magnified
You travel into each others soul
And feel the strength of ten fold.
You turn and face each other and your lips meet
And you know right then that your in for a treat
Your blood starts boiling like a coffee pot
And you try to control it, but it's much to hot.
You pick her up and carry her to the room
And lay her gently upon the bed
So many thoughts going thru your head.
You take off her pajamas ever so gently
And absorb all of the beauty that she was given
And you know that life is good and worth living.
The excitement rising as you pull at your clothes
And you feel like you're about to explode
You climb on top and gently caressing her face
And you move at a slow gentle pace.
The rhythm starts to pick up speed like a drum
Till it gets to the point that you're both done.
You roll on your back and gasp for air
All tensions are gone and no more cares.
You smile at each other and you say
It can't get better than this - there is no way.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Sonnet XIII:The light that rises from your feet to your hair
The light that rises from your feet to your hair,
the strength enfolding your delicate form,
are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver:
you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores.
The grain grew high in its harvest of you,
in good time the flour swelled;
as the dough rose, doubling your breasts,
my love was the coal waiting ready in the earth.
Oh, bread your forehead, your legs, your mouth,
bread I devour, born with the morning light,
my love, beacon-flag of the bakeries:
fire taugh you a lesson of the blood;
you learned your holiness from flour,
from bread your language and aroma.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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Rain-Dreary Day
I'm chilled to the bone this rainy day.
It's been pouring and pouring my time away.
My words are circling again in my head
while the rain comes down and the worms are fed.
It's the change in temperature that's chilled me so.
It's my change in thinking that takes me low.
I'm a sun-lover whose words come alive
just like sunflower, they seem to thrive.
So I'll warm myself and layer my clothes
and use some tissues to warm my nose.
The warmth of the pen with its ink-like blood
will fill the page while the rain does flood.
And at the end of this rain-dreary day
I'll reflect back and find a way
to warm my bones and welcome my bed,
then cover up the words that were in my head.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Lady Wore Black
On a lonely walk this morning
A light mist in the air
Dark clouds laughing at me in silence
Casting shadows through my hair
In the distance I saw a woman
Dressed in black with eyes of grey
She wore her pain like a shackled spirit
Eternal life was her debt to pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The wind song whispered a warning
Telling me to beware
Of the quiet shadowed woman
And of the sadness I would share
We sat together for sometime together in silence
Never speaking in words
Of all her thoughts she spoke with her eyes
And I listened remembering all I heard
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
The words she spoke were of forgotten lives
And of all knowledge gained
Memries I had and didnt know why
With a smile she explained
I should have listened to the winds cold warning
And walked the other way
I touched her soul and now I bear her sentence
But for her love Ill gladly pay
The lady wore black
Its the sign of the prisoners lives
The lady wore black
See the years through the tears in her eyes
The lady wore black
Her mystic power calls to me
The lady wore black
Her love can set me free
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cassidy
I have seen where the wolf has slept by the silver stream.
I can tell by the mark he left you were in his dream.
Ah child of countless trees, ah child of boundless seas.
What are you, what are you meant to be?
Speaks his name for you were born to me,
Born to me, cassidy.
Lost now on the country miles in his cadillac.
I can tell by the way you smile he is rolling back.
Come wash the nighttime clean, come grow the scorched ground green.
Blow the horn, tap the tambourine.
Close the gap on the dark years in between.
You and me, cassidy.
Quick beats in an icy heart, catch colt draws a coffin cart,
There he goes and now here she starts, hear her cry.
Flight of the seabirds,
Scattered like lost words,
Wheel to the storm and fly.
Fare thee well now, let your life proceed by its own design.
Nothing to tell now, let the words be yours, Im done with mine.
Fare thee well now, let your life proceed by its own design.
Nothing to tell now, let the words be yours, Im done with mine.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaping Salmon
I will not dream another's sweet musings
when the truth is only partly known
the fruit is so sweet but of another knowledge
but face my own full on
naked in the darkness
and recognise that which has never been shown before
and dream it as my own
I will not share you with another
I cannot
for their knowledge would lack the spice of experience
I am the silver salmon driving out of the peat black water into the
daylight
Rising rising
timeless and heavy
Falling backwards into the darkness
I am inside you rising up through the water feeling the water rush past
my
flanks
light flickers above
Searching for the head waters
They are there. I smell them
Peatiness all round
I hold your flanks
Pass my hands to your front, beneath your gills
fingers just apart
sensing your power running past my fingers
Silver water running through my fingers
Pass my hands down your sides
Sense the water passing over my skin
Surges rising up
geysers of water silver spume
The salmon rises
My beautiful salmon, you rise and explode gasping in the electric air
showers of jewels tremble in the sunlight
the sound of a thousand water falls
The pinky darkness of your open mouth
catching the irresdecent droplets
Your flanks tremble in the sun
and fall
back into the enveloping water
bubbles rise
Dark fish sinks into the velvet darkness
Still Still Swish Still
Held like a chalice
poem by Anthony Dalby
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Rising With The Morning
Colour me bright yellow, so I reflect the sun,
Let me sink down gently when the day is done,
Rising with the morning, summer's warmth inbue,
Shining with the happiness of always loving you.
Colour me bright amber, like the autumn's glow,
Let me sink down gently, onto falling leaves below,
Rising with the morning, misty with the dew,
Enveloped with the happiness of truly loving you.
Colour me bright silver, as in the sparkling snow,
Let me sink down gently when the cold winds blow,
Rising with the morning, winter's ice to strew,
Trembling with the happiness of warmly loving you.
Colour me bright emerald, now spring's on the way,
Let me sink down gently on our soft duvet,
Rising with the morning, seeing things brand new,
Sighing with the happiness of me just loving you.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Malted Milk
(by robert johnson)
I keep drinking malted milk, trying to drive my blues away.
I keep drinking malted milk, trying to drive my blues away.
Baby, youre just as welcome to my loving as the flowers is in may.
Malted milk, malted milk, keep rushing to my head.
Malted milk, malted milk, keep rushing to my head.
And I have a funny, funny feeling and Im talking all out my head.
Baby, fix me one more drink and hug your daddy one more time.
Baby, fix me one more drink and hug your daddy one more time.
Keep on stirring my malted milk, mama, until I change my mind.
My doorknob keeps on turning, there must be spooks around my bed.
My doorknob keeps on turning, there must be spooks around my bed.
And I have a funny, funny feeling and the hairs rising on my head.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Africa
Black skins immaculate souls
we are Africans, the pride
of the creator, from kilimanjaro
he veiw the world, that makes
Africa the continent of God.
we are Gold mix with diamond
the wind from the west ship us
out now we are sky, never
desolated we are African.
The ego of mama africa possess
our blood so our tails are far
from dust. Beauty is black so
we are the face of the earth the
home of the seven rivers, the
voices of fascinating creatures
pin the jungle made us believe
that black is the is the race and
Africa the root, in unison we beat
our chest to that.We are Africans.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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A Motswana Woman
Believe me you or not…
Every where she goes, she makes heads turn
Every place she enters, it ought to make people stare
And, they just cannot help it but to ask themselves
Where this woman comes from
A beautiful and peaceful country in Southern Africa
That’s where she hails from
A country with a passionate, caring and friendly nation
Proudly from Botswana, that's where she comes from
This woman is so different
From any other woman, be it British, American,
Asian and let alone African
The shape of her face, her nose, and her thick dark lips
Which become so pronounced when she keeps her coolness
Her genuine smile, it’s so contagious
For when she smiles, you ought to smile too
The fullness of her bosom, with a well-defined cleavage
The curve of her broad Setswana hips
Which when she walks swing from side to side
“Mahepa-poo” as Batswana affectionately refer to them
Her waist so trim like that one of a wasp
With a butt so round and plump
Her stride, as it is portrayed by her well-shaped legs
Men themselves can never cease to admire
This unique creation of God
And they can’t help it but to passionately say
“Ngwana o tshwere di-body”
A Motswana woman, indeed a cut above the rest
The kinkiness of her peach black thick afro,
And the glossiness of her dark chocolate skin
Her unique accent as she speaks
Reveals her typical 'Setswana' accent
Her possession of all these unique features
Leaves many to admire
Truly, an “African Queen” in the making
Now you will understand why this woman
Always portrays herself with confidence but not Ego
And, why she doesn’t walk with her head bowed down,
She walks tall and she walks proud
And when you see her passing by
It ought to make you know that, this woman.
Is not just any other woman, but a Motswana woman
For a Motswana woman, that is her! ! !
(A DEDICATION TO ALL THE WOMEN OF BOTSWANA)
poem by Mantho Joyce Zandi Koveya
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African Mama
African Mama as she struts down the catwalk
African mama with that multi-colored headdress
Vuluptuous woman
Independant woman
A woman of style
Africa's pride
Not fasion model's skinny legs
and flat bottom
Not half-shrunk cloth over disapearing waistline
Curves of Africa
Beauty of Africa
She is unconventional
Under-rated
Rich Beauty
Shocked faces stare as she transforms the stage
with her multi-faceted elagance
with her charm
and many colours
She is proud to be a woman
She she is mother
she is daughter
she will one day be grandmother telling stories around fireplaces
Her beauty is more than magazines
more than clothing
Her beauty is in who she is
In her free spirit
In her deep soul
In her rhythem
And in her heritage
She is Mama Africa
A woman of beauty
poem by Jessica Nobubele Frame
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Shipmates & Cheyenne
This song was first released on the windsong album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Shipmates and cheyenne, raindrops and cryin
Haunt the dreams of an old, old man
Candles and church bells, laughter and farewells
Revolve in his thoughts like a wind
Stallions and blizzards, steelies and lizards
Adrift in the meadows of time
No sense of progression, of age or direction
No meter, no form, no rhyme
Ill hold me one
Just one rising sun
Long after daylight is gone
Ill hold me one
One more rising sun
Till my daylight and darkness is done
Kingdoms and cupboards, losers and lovers
And evnings of blackberry wine
Falling like sand, the memry of hands
And kisses, and whispers and sighs
Ill hold me one
Just one rising sun
Till long after daylight is gone
Ill hold me one
One more rising sun
Till my daylight and darkness is done
Ill hold me one
One rising sun
One more rising sun
Till my daylight and darkness is done
Words by joe henry, music by john denver
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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