Blissful Life
Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby to where Africa grew
He was taken to a vast family of six
A family of black and white all a mix
He grew up in dearth, beginning by birth
But nothing stopped him ever, being a blissful mirth
He tilled the soil and asked for toil
And lived in grains forgetting his pains
He prized his time and saved his dime
And lived a life worth greater than words
Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby where Africa grew
In looks he was poor, but inside he was pure
He was worthy of every touch
And worthy of the lot much
He lives a life of pleasure
Having love as his biggest treasure
Over Parshington, a white stroke flew
Carrying a baby where Africa grew
OCTOBER 10,2008
poem by Sania Harris
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My Healer Baby
MY HEALER BABY
Dating is a white butterfly,
Its separations are black,
My soul is a sad child
Grew in charity with lack.
My graceful poor baby,
Who dream is wounded, baby.
Looking at stony roads,
My hopes grew into roads.
I burnt, my ashes grew,
Into a flower of luckless dreams.
A companion to the dream, my baby,
Whose joy is wounded, my baby.
Love is water in the stream,
Has run beside you flowing.
Seeing your weak state also
Hasn't gone a moment of waving
From pains suffers, my healer baby,
Whose faith seems victorious, my baby.
poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova
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Africa and Africa’s
Have seen little of history unfold
I know that one thing will always be
Africa will be,
But what is Africa’s may never be
White man came
Green lands began to dry
So did rivers and streams
Even oceans and seas
Whatever the white man sees
Seems to vanish from Africa
Like dews do in his singeing summers
When he sees peace… there! Gone
The white man said he’d in Africa invested
In actual sense he had Africa infested
Looting without shame
Claiming England is Object; Africa its subject
There was gold, grandpa says
We fight over our own
Lacerate throats and disembowel ours
Man in white fuels it dressed in black
We choose our way
Dos, don’ts, and embargoes stay
When we invent, they endear us
Purporting supervision, yet looting
What is Africa’s one day will be
And shall remain African and Africa’s
What should unite Africa is Africa’s
It will never split Africa into Africas
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
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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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Im Carrying
By dawns first light Ill come back to your room again
With my carnation hidden by the packages
Im carrying, something
Im carrying something for you
Ah, long time no see baby sure has been a while
And if my reappearance lacks a sense of style
Im carrying, something
Im carrying something for you
Im carrying.
Im carrying, cant help it.
Im carrying.
Im carrying something for you.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's The Africa In Me
It’s the Africa in me
that loves the forest in which I wake,
that sees and hears its fauna and flora and revels in their names.
It’s the Africa in me
that you hear in my spirited conversation,
that shakes my shoulders as I sob my sorrows
or laugh my insides, inside-out.
It’s the Africa in me
that keeps me reading poetry deep into the night
and causes me to stroke the sinuous muscles of my striped, domestic cat
and kiss the muzzle of my gently nickering horse.
It’s the Africa in me
that has taught me how to love
and patches up the fragments of my soul after each disaster
and renews my zeal and increases my understanding
in preparation for the next onslaught.
It’s the Africa in me
that has carried me
from my first baby breath
and will support me to my very last.
I am truly a child born of Africa.
(August 1999)
poem by Diana van den Berg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Market White Baby Dealer
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
My black market white baby dealer
Is rooting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Kidnaps clean, fresh white babies for me
Clean, fresh white babies for me
My smile is dime a dozen
My lips are cherry red
My eyes are blue like the sky is blue
I got good shoulders under my head
I look like your mother
I look like your great-aunt
So sit me down in the family photo
And everyone tells me that i, I look just like you
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
He brings back
Oh my god, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
He brings back
Oh charlie, he brings back
He brings back clean, fresh, white expensive babies
I come post-production
I dont need natal care
Im already fully assembled
Down to the very last part, its all there
So take me to your family
So take me to your home
Buddy, take me in as your next generation
And Ill take you out of the lost one and into mine
My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
Clean, fresh white babies to me
song performed by by Liz Phair
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Colourful Family Tree
This world is made up of colours and,
I am glad to come up from a colourful family tree.
There are many colours around us and,
You can enjoy the colours in your bathrooms too;
For nature is full of colours!
Like the human beings,
I an brown in colour and my mother is a black woman from Africa.
I have many relatives all over the continets and,
My father is a white man from the U.S.A.
Four of my aunties are from Australia, Japan, Brazil and the U.K.;
Four of my uncles are from India, Mexico, Canada and Denmark;
So i grew up among many colours of this world.
A colourful family tree is what i came from and,
I am very glad to meet various colours in my life time;
For a long the lines of my growth,
I have come to love all the colours around me.
Colours are very beautiful and we need them around us,
They are in your offices and your houses too;
Yes, we need all the colours to beautify things around us.
Black is beautiful and white is beautiful too,
For we were made from the Creator with colours!
And i am very glad to be part of this family tree.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's The Africa In Me!
It’s the Africa in me
that loves the forest in which I wake,
that sees and hears its fauna and flora
and revels in their names.
It’s the Africa in me
that you hear in my spirited conversation,
that shakes my shoulders as I sob my sorrows
or laugh my insides, inside-out.
It’s the Africa in me
that keeps me reading poetry deep into the night
and causes me to stroke the sinuous muscles
of my striped, domestic cat
and kiss the muzzle of my gently nickering horse.
It’s the Africa in me
that has taught me how to love
and patches up the fragments of my soul
after each and every disaster
and renews my zeal and increases my understanding
in preparation for the next onslaught.
It’s the Africa in me
that has carried me
from my first baby breath
and will support me to my very last.
it will let me eat with my bare hands
and save my energy from the strugle with folks
I am truly a child born of Africa.
for the African in me will llow me to stop,
and salute a stranger in a far away country..
it will let me host a stranger who has lost its way.
the African in me tought me to be friendly....
I belong to Africa!
I am The Son of the pregnant Land
where summer never ends!
poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thank You My Africa
Thank You My Africa
For Giving Birth To Me
For All The Blessings
And For Choosing Me As Your Daughter.
Thank You My Africa
For Selecting Me To Represent
Everything That You Own
And Wherever I Go.
Thank You My Africa
For My Other Sisters And Brothers
For My Other Fathers And Mothers
And The Perfect Weather.
Thank You My Africa
For My Happiness And Dignity
The Love And Careness
For My Roots And Capability.
Thank You My Africa
I Love And Appreciates You
For Being A Good Samaritan To Foreign Countries
Because Of Everything They Go Through.
Thank You My Africa
For Your Capacity
For Your Originality
And Your Diversity.
Thank You My Africa
For Letting Me Overcome Old Pains
To Have Many Opportunities
Privileges, Luck And Alot More Gains.
Thank You My Africa
For The Light That Shines Through
And Even If They Call You Dark Africa
I Declare You As A Bright One Because You Are So True.
Thank You My Africa
For My Beautiful Curved Body
Which Represents All The Roads
The Mountains And Rivers In You.
Thank You My Africa
For I Come From You
And My Appreciation For All That
I Say; I Love You My Africa.
poem by Julius Adolf
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When we grew apart
You say we grew apart
but I can't not say...
'babe, you threw ya heart'
where did it go?
I know,
it was when you told your white lies
it was when you stood in the white snow.
It was when you grew into a woman.
It was when I saw you smile
babe we grew apart
but for me it was only for a while.
poem by Daniel McCann
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Little White Rose
Little white rose that I loved, I loved,
Roisin ban, Roisin ban!
Fair my bud as the morning's dawn.
I kissed my beautiful flower to bloom,
My heart grew glad for its rich perfume—
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew red,
Roisin rua, Roisin rua!
Passionate tears I wept for you.
Love is more sweet than the world's fame—
I dream you back in my heart the same,
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew black,
Roisin duv, Roisin duv!
So I knew not the heart of you.
Lost in the world's alluring fire,
I cry in the night for my heart's desire,
Little white rose that I loved!
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Giant of Africa
Blessed thy be
among the contries
so great and powerful
rich in culture
and natural endowment
truly, you are the giant of Africa
Hm! giant of Africa
you should be ashamed
for been called the giant of Africa
Isn't our flag green white green?
while green stand for food
and white for peace?
but now, green stand for famine
and white for war
Giant of Africa
heh heh heh
visa now becomes your lord
the land where
nigerian love to live
still, the tomtom of revolution
beats in our heart
for our ancestor to judge
both the good and the evil.
poem by Mimiko moruf oluwakayode
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White sparrow
white sparrow you see me standing
you could kill me without landing
your wing is just as long as a man
you are as cold as a snowy day
you have come here from heaven
you must of as you fight my devil's
your feathers turn slowly black with my sin
and yet you stay beautiful as always
my sin is like a ciggerate it will turn you black inside
but you cannot die as you are one in your own
you came from heaven so your holy arent you
god sent you for me so you must do what you must do
my heart was never red nor white but black
i was born with my sin and also that of my kin
but white sparrow you have taken that from me
and now you are dying you turned black whilst i change to white
oh my lord what a sight it must be to see
a boy like me clean of all carrying a bird of sin
i am carrying you white sparrow your heart is no longer cold
and your body no longer white nor wings large
but white sparrow you will not die, no you will not
for you white sparrow you came from heaven for me
when i picked my child's name people laughed you did not
you looked at my child in his cot and nodded now you cant
for white sparrow you dont belong with me not anymore
your must leave for heaven and recover to help others
so farewell white sparrow il missy you my saviour
now go to that sin filled woman and help her
for white sparrow i will look for you as you continue
for white sparrow i will see you in heaven....goodbye
poem by Daniel Laurence
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That Big Yellow Balloon
'Mommy, I want that big yellow balloon, '
The baby boy cried.
Mommy walked the mall replying,
'I only see a red balloon.'
So the Mommy did drive,
And the baby it cried,
Then they reached a new store.
But the baby wanted that big yellow balloon,
The store did not have.
'Maaaaaaaam, I want that big yellow balloon, '
The baby yelled with his wavy shaped mouth.
The Mommy saw some red, white and blue balloon,
Driving by a July the Fourth party.
Now the baby bellowed louder,
Pounding his fists on the floor,
Saying, 'see Mom, all big yellow balloons are gone Mom.
Why did you wait so long?
Perplexed Mom asked the crying son,
What he meant by that,
Especially, when she had done,
All she could have done.
The baby proclaimed, 'now the big yellow balloon,
Has turned into a big orange balloon! ! ! '
He sobbed, 'you made it too late in the day Mom.'
Now Mommy asked, 'was that the biggest sunshiniest,
Balloon in the tall sky, that hung around all day long? '
'And you didn't get it for me, whaaaaaaawww.....,
The baby expressed himself.
The next day bought another appeal from the baby,
This time as he rode with the pilots of 'Sun Shines Airways.'
The cockpit shown his big yellow balloon, steady in front of him.
The pilots bought him the longest wads and wads of string.
This baby stuck the string to the cockpit window,
Where the sun was the biggest and yellowest.
And as the plane descended,
That string grew longer and longer.
The baby knew he know owned,
The biggest and 'yellowest' balloon,
As his grip grew stronger and stronger.
This baby's hand held it longer and longer,
His biggest yellow balloon,
Filled with helium.
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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Africa
Lyrics & music: john oates
My baby went to africa
With the dirty lens photographer
My baby stayin in jungle land
With a u s body and a real light tan
My baby went to africa
With a make-up man and his love-sick lover
She get a couple o grand and a two-piece suit
Let the folks back home see the native beauty
My baby went to africa
Gotta pack my bags and get to her
Before the lions and tigers try to jump on her bones
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Black And White Mountain Of Africa
The Black and White Mountain of Africa!
Give me hope and let me move my mind to the world;
And just to fit in like a human being,
Because making choices is part of man.
Facts and techniques,
And to the muse of the Black and White Mountain of Africa! !
But do pay close attention to the love i have around you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Without Regret
Saddened memories,
I once held as property.
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
I now reflect,
Without regret.
I know now
Defeats I've met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Those times
Stayed on my mind
For days at a time.
I used that to feed,
My own desperate needing.
I lived with anger and deceit!
I felt those feelings deep,
Within me!
Defeats I have met!
But who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
But...
Who knew,
They would go...
When they grew,
Inside of me!
Who knew,
Like I do now...
When they grew,
Somehow
They would go...
From inside of me!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Spices
Of the spices of life,
Of the spices of love,
Of the spices of peace,
Of the spices of my mind,
Life in Africa maters to me lot.
Of Black Cumin,
Of Red Peppercorns,
Of Black Mustard,
Of Cayenne Pepper,
Of White Mustard,
Of Mixed Peppercorns,
Of Mahaleb Cherry,
Of Szechuan pepper,
Almost everybody is with a mobile phone in Africa!
But strong alcohol are consumed daily by the majority unemployed.
In Africa,
My mind sits and writes;
Because, life in Africa matters to me a lot.
Of Coriander, Ground Ginger, Fenugreek, Turmeric and Paprika!
Like the struggles daily in Africa for a survival;
But one day, we will get there.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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