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Paradise Lost

Paradise Lost

The grass is tall now a cat with a dormouse in its
mouth is watching me, not quite an African lion
as seen on a BBC, nature program

I may go to Africa in May, Congo, might not see
an elephant or a gorilla but I’m sure to find a war
somewhere in the forest, near a diamond mine.

Here, where I live, I can take off my shoes and
walk barefoot in the grass, but my feet have been
encased in shoes so long they are European now.

So am I an African? No not now, but I used to be
in an earlier life, that’s why I call Africa my home
and tend to idolize and over romanticise the place.

Portugal is a god country to live in and it is closer to
my home than, say, Sweden is, and when the south
easterly blows dust in my nose smells of Serengeti

The man on the green tractor coming, my way used
to live in Angola but had to leave, but Africa never
left him, that’s why his has a wistful smile.

The Portuguese who had to leave Africa years ago
ache for their lost love, they wear the heavy cape
of melancholy and speak of returning… one day.

A picture 1912, a woman dark sits in a courtyard
She is painting her toe nails, looks up and smile
I knew her well she used to be wife.

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 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
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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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Africa We Stand Up For You

When they ask you tell them you are from Africa.
Africa and nowhere else.
Africa has made you
Africa has made me;
It is time to make Africa.
So Mother Africa
Do not be in haste.
Your sons and daughters
Still live.
They live you rather than leave you.
Once perched we will fly.
Fly to you and not from you.
Your songs of praise
Will always be sung unrestrained.
You are Beautiful, Africa.
Africa you will never go on your knees.
We were imprisoned,
We were exported,
We were whipped in those days,
We went on our knees,
But it was not for a lack of hope
Or a plea of submission on our part.
Rather, our kneeling was to take
Courage from the brown earth,
Your Symbol-In-Common.
Like the Saviour among thieves on the cross,
Africa will be the Lighthouse to the world.
Diop may have died at thirty-three,
Left behind only twenty-two poems,
But Africa we say this to you:
More Diops will rise.
And even live to a Senghor.
Yes, Africa, do not be in haste.
Your children are still Alive.
And no death can ever kill Us.

poem by Hamza Issah Danjuma
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Africa My Africa

In Africa the lion is no more
The jungle not his home
For he now opens a door
The corridors of power he is seen to roam
In Africa the monkey has left his tree
In Africa the snake no longer hides in the grass
In Africa bird and beast are all but gone
in africa all the peoples mizz there queen cause they queen have go american and the queen is me

poem by Kemi Moshood
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African Skies

You say youre surprised
I thought Id write today
Pieces of my life
That time cant fade away
Land lies dry - africa
And the clouds roll by - africa
I held you every night
I believed in all youd say
Now the dust blows in my eyes
But those dreams wont fade away
The sky burns red - africa
Dont you cry - africa
Africa
When you cry it rains - africa
Still the children smile - africa
When you cry it rains - africa
When the wild dogs howl - africa
Still the clouds roll by - africa
Written by : kerr/burchill reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
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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Africa's Smile a Mystery

The center of Africa's smile
A mystery, isn't it?
Children play and sing
Ever smiling and hopeful
Whether the ground dries to death
Whether the stock is done
There's always a smile on Africa's face

You wonder........
Walk on hard ground
With an open sole
Worked on by the tropical sun
Yet, never giving up on life

Yea, sometimes I wonder why
Africa is so as the world views it
But I can't help it
But admire her determination to live and thrive
Thank God for the dark skin
She strongly shield's her self
No matter what
Africa never fails to smile

When the rebels flush her from her home
She walks away though in pain
But looking forward to a better day
How easly she forgives
How she wants to remain human
When all others devalues humanity
How well she cherishes her values
No matter the corruption from the corners of the wind
Africa is Africa
Is a mystery.....

poem by charles K wanjohi
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I Dreamt I Was In Africa

I dreamt I was in Africa neath Serengeti sky
I heard the wild dogs barking, the spotted hyenas cry,
I heard the male lion roaring his anger pierced the night,
I dreamt I was in Africa neath African moonlight.

The elephants were trumpeting on Serengeti plain,
The sun dried grass all eaten the parched earth cried for rain,
The wildebeest and zebra had wandered far away
And Serengeti silent in the searing heat of day.

I dreamt I was in Africa the drought was at an end
The thunder and the lightning And rain came with the wind,
The ponds and rivers flooded, the once parched plains now green
And widebeest and zebra in thousands to be seen.

The moon shines in the heavens and the hunting jackals bark
In Tanzania in East Africa in Serengeti National Park
The grazing hippos grunting and the wild hyenas scream
And I was in East Africa if only in a dream.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I Am An African

I am an African
I was born in Africa
Suckled mother Africa breast
I am beauty Africa

I stand under blue skies
Over drastic mountains
To behold vibrant countries
And feel at home

I bow down to salute heroes
Died on struggle
Striving Africa liberation
Development and capacity

Hail Africa
You are our mother
Feeding us with prosperity
Anointing us with acceptance

Africa is my mother
She will never fade
Gloom or cease
I am an African

poem by Poppie Mira
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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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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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African song

African song

The star's on the sky, and the dust's on the floor,
And the head has a thought that is thoughtless
Then together.together, together, Africa

Our directions for fights, that from banana colors,
Must be heard, but by darkness in our vengeful sounds!
Then fight, Africa! fight, Africa!
fight, fight, fight, Africa.

Mbale's proud mountains,
lakes no longer are ours;
We're landless, landless, landless, Africa!
Landless, landless, landless

But lost and devoted by god.
Banana color has taken both our hearts and souls
Then courage, courage, courage, Africa!
Courage, courage, courage.

If they rob us of land and spirit,
Give their hooves to our hands
Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Africa!
Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance

While they say we are church mice,
despise them, they are thieves!
why? ...if we are what we are as they sing
why dont they go back to the cold and hot life style?
Alway looking at our baskets of riches
which they had earlier taken,
Come then, Africa, come then, Africa,
Come then, come then, come then

Through the depths of the fight is long,
its the last nail in the wood.
Use the biggest hammers because the nails are blunt.
And the rocks they should be broken,
our difference should be broken for this win
Then win, win, win, Africa!
win, win, win.

poem by Kizza Michael
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South Africa Is Also My Country

From my birth South Africa is my own country
and my people can flee to an island
but my own culture and language stays holy
although this place is not safe,
I still trust on a much higher hand,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country
even if the struggling government gives me resistance,
do oppress me with unfair laws,
even if nothing can stop the disintegration,
even if I am not safe against the onslaught,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country,
even if some act with effrontery against my people
I come from a noble heritage,
I am proud on my Afrikaner lineage,
even if people and buildings are set alight,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

From my birth South Africa is my own country
with no other place I have such a deep bond
and even if here I will never have any job,
I believe in God and a Christian church,
God himself still keeps my ways intact,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.

poem by Gert Strydom
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To Doris

She said I come from a land flanked by the warmer seas
A flat brown land that stretch for miles with hardly any trees
In my dreams I see the big game parks and the open plains I see
'Oh' Africa my Africa I hear you calling me.

I hear the male lion cough and roar and the wild hyena scream
And the Natives dance before my eyes so real to me they seem
I hear them singing in the night and their drumming I too hear
And Africa close to my heart though miles away from here.

Doris accent is a give away as accents often are
You'd know that to get to this great Land that she's had to travel far
Her lovely South African accent one never should mistake
The migrant may live far from home but ties that bind are hard to break.

A farmer's daughter from South Africa her life story ought be told
A woman close to eighty years though she doesn't look that old
A teenager in the thirties the hard life she has been through
Her only brother a prisoner of war in Europe in world war two.

Her ill mother convinced her son had died lost the will to live on
And he returned home to the tragic news that his mum was dead and gone
There's sorrow blood and tears in war and tragedy as well
And for mums with sons on battlefields life must be living hell.

She raised five sons in South Africa and one died at twenty five
Brain damaged by measles as a child she helped him to survive
And Doris with great sadness says that her son's life was far too brief
There's ups and downs in life she says and there's happiness and grief.

With her son and daughter in law she lives east of Melbourne now by road off 'One Tree Hill'
A woman from a far Country and suppose she always will
Feel homesick for her home Country, I love Australia she say
But my homeland is South Africa the brown Land far away.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I Have A Dream Of An Africa

I have a dream of an Africa
A united Africa!
Self sustaining and self reliant
Able to produce
Anything out of nothing
And trade within her-self
And with the world at large
A proud Africa
Of a civilizing people
Like our Egyptian, and
Olmec ancestors…
I dream of an Africa that
Patrice Lumumba died for
Kwame Nkrumah stood up for
Nelson Mandela paid dearly for
An Africa of Haile Selasie I
An Africa of GIANTS
Where men are great, proud and dignified
An Africa of Cleopatra, Maqeda, Nzingha and Nyamazana
An Africa without genocide, starvation, or disease
An Africa, without dictators!
A free Africa
Taking on the driver’s seat
Teaching without enslaving-
To show the world it’s possible!
No refugees because
All the Children belong!
An Africa, a Mother Land
Where an elephant
Feeds from the Elephant Tree
And the gorilla roams free
And the lion goes to hunt
If he wants
Because God loved him to!
An Africa that
Bhambatha (ka Mancinza)
Sobukwe (Robert)
Fanon (Frantz)
Biko (Steve)
X (Malcolm)
Garvey (Marcus)
And Douglas (Frederick)
Would look at and smile about
I have a dream of an Africa
But from this one, I shall not wake
Because I dream standing up
My eyes looking out
My arms open wide
To the ones, mad enough, to dream the same-

poem by LLM Mbatha
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Africa of My Dream

Africa, my Africa of my dream
Here is where I want to be
And here I have always been,
At my end, here is where I want to sleep.
Africa, I have been away for too long
Please don't cry for me my mother
Twenty years is a long time to be
Away from home,
But I am still here, my one home
My Africa, my Africa of my dream
Many are leaving, leaving for America,
But I am still here and here
Is where I will always be,
My Africa is my America.
We are working towards that,
A better Africa, a great Africa!
This is Africa of my dream,
My Africa is my America.

poem by Efe Benjamin
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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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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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She'd Love To Live In Africa

She'd love to live in Africa in the land of the Maasai
And with the tribal people dance under the moonlit sky
The rhythmic drummer beats his drum and the dancers rock and sway
She'd love to live in Africa twelve thousand miles away.

The hungry male lions cough and roar in the African night
And the sounds of galloping hooves and zebras whinnying in fright
And the elephants are trumpeting and the the wild hyaenas
scream
And to live in distant Africa has always been her dream.

She's never been to Africa but she can visualize
The fish eagles are circling o'er the lake she hear their cries
And a flock of beautiful flamingos of ten thousands birds or more
Are feeding in the shallows just in from the lake shore.

All documentaries on Africa she watches on T.V.
And she'd love to live in that great Land amongst the wild and free
But time is running out on her she now is sixty two
And her dream of life in Africa for her may not come true.

Her brain urge her to walk and jog but her legs will not obey
And she won't be going to Africa twelve thousand miles away
A long time paraplegic she sits in her wheel chair
And she dreams of distant Africa 'doesn't life seem so unfair'.

poem by Francis Duggan
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