Blindness
Blindness.
While Moslems are
Discriminated in Europe
Christians are killed
In Africa
Their deaths are a byline
In a liberal world
That doesn’t see
The forest for the trees.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Europe's Problem
The Problem of Europe
There is an echo that rumbles in my liberal mind regarding
the Moslem population in Europe. Yes, we must accept them
they are citizens, but they do live in Europe now which has
different culture than the Moslem world. But it appears to me
they want to change a Europe to become like them.
The first generations of Moslems who came here were happy
to escape poverty and repressing regimes, however it is
the new generation who feel they are not being accepted…
but they are. Europe needs the energy and thrift the Moslem
youth brings as long as they don’t try to fit Europe into
an unreal sharia state that never existed other than in the mind
zealots. So my liberal mind is confused, I will bend for their
religious needs, but I will not live their repressed life, to be
straitjacket into religious rules I find objectionable.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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 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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The World is Full of Kindness
The World is full of kindness—
And not the poor alone;
We Christians in our blindness
Bow down to hearts of stone;
The clever, bitter cynic,
Whose poisoned “soul” is dead,
And, like the rotten clinic,
Raves, helpless, on his bed.
The world is full of kindness—
But not the White alone;
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone;
But all men are his brothers,
In spite of all the “Powers,”
And the things he does for others
Shew whiter souls than ours.
The world is full of kindness—
But not the Lean alone;
The Fat man in his blindness
Bows down, and not to stone;
But when a friend’s in trouble,
And an honest friend at that,
Then I’d turn to the Fat man
In spite of all his fat.
The world is full of kindness
If it is let alone,
And men’s hearts in their blindness
Are neither ice nor stone.
In spite of all pretences,
We get it from Above;
In spite of all defences—
Red blood, kind hearts, and love.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Between Africa and Europe I
Between Africa & Europe
We sat on the rocks of the islanded Nile
Somewhere below Aswan
The inkwell water smooth running between our toes
The silt of Africa behind Aswan's mighty hand
Why did we leave?
Why did we come home?
Between Africa & Europe my mind halts
In this poem of last returns.
There we are placed:
I swimming
You watching
The light of the Sahara still burnishing our skin
The cold dark depths of the river
Hiding our last desires
And they will never resurface beyond this picture
I treasure here
Only the Nile flows on
poem by Tommy Stroller
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The Moslem And The Christian
by mere chance one day
the christian and the moslem become neighbors
the moslem fenced his house
for fear that the christian may squat a part of its porch
the christian on the other hand
instructs his children not to befriend his children
for fear of betrayal
the moslem too instructs his kids to watch over their sleepers
the christians mind you steal from the moslems he said
the christian is cautious too
on the thinking that moslems are terrorists
on these set of prejudices
they can never live happily ever after
thus the christian-moslem story never ends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Political: Freedom Before Responsibility
I cry for Africa,
Afrique du Sud where
we won freedom before
accepting
accountability.
We abuse liberty,
infringe rights, make
the line between “yours”
and “mine” opaque and
ignore the notion of
reciprocal duty; we don’t
know what it means to do
unto others as we would have
them do unto us, except where
we give in token what we
expect to receive in kind
Europe plundered Africa under
God, left Christianity chained
in an era’s exploitation blessed
by autocracy; when tamed by
Renaissance Europe left Africa
behind - the next step was freedom;
but we never learnt how to respect
freedom’s household duties;
We tasted liberty’s heady glory
taking charge of ourselves with
no ethical wares except a God of
Vengeance, never learnt what mutual
obligation meant – never learnt why
it would become us; today we know:
We have a right to our own life
And why should we respect ALL life?
Our forebears never did. We have right
to freedom of thought, conscience and
religion – never were taught to respect
all differences as sacred and worthy;
just as our masters exploited, maimed
and killed us, so do we. The rainbow
nation is killing one another, rule is
survival, ANC won its struggle through
violence – now it seems violence rules
by right again in my beloved Africa…
poem by Margaret Alice
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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.
poem by Senator alufalism
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Africa, I were the one you killed
In those misery-days;
Those days when happiness of birth cried;
-with an oversized echo;
Africa, when your gods roared in their wooden-cages
I were the twins you unjustly killed;
-Just to appease your gods
Again when darkness fell on the skin of your sky
-and gave it ugly spot;
I were the lamp-lights you held;
to walk on the blood-shed roads,
when your furious deities are thirsty and in full rage,
-in their desert homes.
My bloods you gave, to turn away their anger.
Africa, when you killed your'today'
Tell me what would your tomorrow be?
Thanks be to angel Mary Slessor,
who came to dry-clean the tears of Mama-Africa,
-with her most decent affection.
Truely the years've gone in a quick motion of time;
but its scar remains a badge on my heart
Africa, my Africa,
I were the twins you unjustly killed yesterday;
O the living history of misery;
Africa, I'm back-again today not to avenge,
but tell you how much I love you.
Adesitimi.
poem by Adesitimi Taiwo
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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.
poem by George mwandu
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I said Don’t Tell Me
Don’t tell me of a world of masterful politicians
Don’t tell me of a world of embattled coalitions
Don’t tell me of a world of the spin doctors slurs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of the dominance in hate
Don’t tell me of a world in riches for who last ate
Don’t tell me of a world of trades in bloodied furs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world where a heart seeks allures
Do tell me of a world for when tranquillity conquers
Do tell me of a world empowered as rebellion stirs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of violent augmentation
Don’t tell me of a world in servitude of aggression
Don’t tell me of a world of pennies before the cures
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Don’t tell me of a world of the lost and the listless
Don’t tell me of a world of a dying disciple so lifeless
Don’t tell me of a world infested by human aggressors
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world that the politician fought for freedom
Do tell me of a world where we dropp the food not the bomb
Do tell me of a world when making love new life occurs
Cannot perceive the blindness as the vision blurs
Do tell me of a world for grain that fed the thousand starving
Do tell me of a world when a day broke in a child’s laughing
Do tell me of a world where I can drink from purest streams
I can start to perceive though to only make sense in dreams
poem by Vision Ghost
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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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Smoke
Smoke
From the Saga Island smoke rose. flames and rivers ran full of
icy water; the modern Vikings had been beaten and shamed.
Cold winter, summer roses are grey and leaves on trees have
taken on an autumnal hue. Clouds of ashes drifting south day
is night the world has lost it colour and cinemas only show
black& white movies.
East the smoke is black and smells of cordite and bulldozed
buildings. Poor Palestine it is not a state, but a dream, which
trashed people try to make into a reality. Moslems, Christians
and righteous Jews, the world belongs to us, to have peace
there must be fairness. Oops! Before my eyes another house is
razed to the ground, dust is blinding me.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Secret of the Sun
Raised by the bare bones of nature’s grace,
my home held hands with the feral forest,
where nature hid her gold.
I have heard palm trees whisper their stories
I have listened to the silent full moon quietly teach
lessons of those who had lived.
I know of the green secrets of the earth
Soft voices of searching roots that sprout forth, cluster
around my hut to tell.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I understand the tongue of the wild.
I have swayed to the blue songs of humming birds that fill the
tree branches with their nests.
I have had breakfast plucked ripe off the tree
and lunch caught right from the river.
I have aimed a stick in the forest and secured supper.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
where nature’s breast milk flows from palm trees
and every suckle leaves a smile on wrinkled ebony faces.
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I have seen rains held up at the summons of wooden carved gods.
women foretell events of the next day, and men
hear voices of elders long dead.
I am from the bowels of Africa
I am carolled to dreamland by
crickets, frogs and fireflies
that mime nature’s song at night fall
I am from the bowels of Africa,
I am the dark secret held by the sun
I live Africa
I walk Africa, I talk Africa, and I feel her on the skin of my neck,
I embrace her, I adore her, she brings memories one can never forget,
I dream of her, I sing with her, and I am proud of the man I’ve become,
I love her and she loves me back, I live for her after it’s all said and done
I live for her, I live with her, and she shows me love words can’t explain,
Her skin so brown and her eyes so bright, look once, and you will look again,
I hold her on my chest so dear; I embrace her in my arms,
I whisper secrets in her ear, and she weakens me with her charms
I love Africa with all my heart, and my heart she puts at ease,
When I kiss her lips its like breeze, a weakness hits my knees,
I hug her close and will never let go, like her forest’s hug their trees,
She begs me to stay and never let go, and she always will say please
I love Africa, I live Africa, I trust her with my being,
She gives me perspectives unknown to man, when my fragile heart needs freeing,
She takes my hand and guides me through those testing times when I give up,
She shows me love, she makes me smile, and she’s my reason to cheer up
I adore Africa, I love her blue skies and I love her curvy lands,
Her skies so blue and beauty unreal, and I love her beautiful sands,
I am me because of her, and I wouldn’t change that for the world or more,
I love Africa, I live Africa, and she is mine for ever more
by Jimmy Manganda
poem by Jimmy Manganda
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Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Rendezvous on Champs-Elysees
Leave Paris in the morning on T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
In Vienna we sit in a late-night cafe
Straight connection, T.E.E.
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
From station to station
back to Dusseldorf City
Meet Iggy Pop and David Bowie
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
Trans-Europe Express
song performed by by Kraftwerk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Religion (This is what You have Done)
Relogion O religion!
This is what you have done
From chaos we were brought
Into a world with love.
We are the Christians
With Christ we entered Jerusalem triumphantly.
O Jesus, mighty saviour, truely you are Christ!
After death you rise
It's my my pride you're on my side.
We are the Christians
Of a thousand century
With Christ we rise
With love we followed Jesus
And together we made the Church.
Religion O religion
This is what you have done
From Chaos we were made, into a world with love.
Praise be to Allah
Who oversees all
And we are the Moslems
Wih Mohammed we followed
And entered Mecca triumphantly
And together we made the Mosque.
There is no God but Allah
To Him there shall be all praise.
And to Mohammed His prophet
Showed me the way to Allah
In the Heavenly.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Lions In Vilakazi Street
Africa?
Where is Africa?
D'them Africas dress
Like ah brada Tarzan
An hip woman deh lady Jane Mascot
An swing son indah willow trees
Like ah brer' hair, huh?
How big is Africa?
Do they have lions smack
In the streets of Africa?
Beware.Your ignorance will make you
A fool in the company of kings!
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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We can't put up a protectionist dam on our own against the neo-liberal world market either. However, we can try, together with our European partners, to maintain the social character of Europe as much as possible.
quote by Johan Huizinga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Don't Read Africa
Never have you ever sat
Or beneath African Suns lay flat
You insist on rumours fat
Liken to a rainy day's door mat
To judge where you haven't testified
And judge what ain't justified
You don't read Africa
You heard it is Hell's replica
With an oasis of virtual bliss
Where on semi-humans and snakes hiss
You watched him report
On a continent he hasn't rapport!
Why do you believe:
That which you perceive?
As Gospel-truth lies you receive?
Those that only your mind deceive?
Making you think 'Africa' is synonym to 'grieve'?
You don't read Africa
You only read about Africa
The cradle of mankind
You believe is to mankind unkind
You help in protests
Against nothing on your list of detests
You call it charity when you commission inquests!
Can a reader read a book here
When he is only there
There where he doesn't know where,
Where he feels and thinks is nowhere?
Read Africa from your heart
Not just when Africans hurt
You cannot read Africa miles apart
You read of Africa
You read about Africa
You read about Africa
You have read about Africa
You Don't Read Africa
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
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