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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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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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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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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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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I Cry & Smile Mother Africa
I'm glad, an African,
My heart beats with African rhythms,
Dance with my feet on African beats,
The essence of culture, and everything.
Very happy with my colour of chocolate,
Uniquely gifted with talents,
Black and shinning like a star,
Not because born on African soil,
But proudly meant to be.
I cry 'cuz of what's happening
To me and my mother Africa,
Whilst those I consider as my brothers
And sisters are in laughters and cheers.
Strangers come and take our livelihood,
But the world regards them as heroes,
When it comes to morning I'm alive,
I don't know whether the sun will set.
Mother Africa dry eyes and
Reverse the joy that I had,
Everybody admires you,
You are adorable Mother Africa,
Land of heroic and valiant people.
Essence of love, nature,
Enormous mountains, beautiful rivers,
This day you embrace the entire world
But I still hold a gigantic cry
And smile Mother Africa.
poem by Kiyaga Lyttle Cephas
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50 Years on This Physical Earth
50 years on this physical earth,
But husting and busting to make my name known t the world!!
Because, i have a message at hand;
And, it is not easy being born in Africa and being raised in Africa from a very poor family!
For, i can't stop the rain from falling on my head when,
I have no roof!!!
And like what is going on today in East Africa!
With the reflections of one of my Art Works called: 'We don't have aids but hunger'! !
Yes, from the very acts of my mind;
Because i am an African,
And i do know what it means to be in Africa.
Today, i am to thank Father Yahweh for all of His mercy and kindness towards me;
For He had really guided my steps from thr rough paths of an African's own story,
And, let His Mercy endures forever!!
For Africa is for the Africans and we have to know what goes on around us everyday;
And, in the land of Africa i was born,
But, have you to say?!!
Because, i am very proud to be an African!
And like the muse of your love in the land of many waters that satisfies us all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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My African Land
Forgotten trodden past
Hopeful saintful future
I walk in my African land
Africa bears its fruits on crushed branches
Its children bear hope to a tortured yesterday
I walk in my African land
With its tormented heart it loves
With is abused state it sees happiness
With its crushed psyche it looks on caringly
I walk in my African land
I embrace the streets of struggle
Covered by the sands of war from a grieved soul
My African people stride in colourful clothes
As a rainbow ending stormy rage of corrupted seas
I walk in my African land
Tall buildings escalated egos
Fancy cars, classy hearts
Large salaries, tiny compassions
My Africa forgets the hardships endured
My brother forgets Ubuntu
My Africa loses sight
Still,
I walk in my African land
My Africa shines with the sun
That burns dry the tears of his people
I walk in my African land
My Africa rises to a new world of liberty
Freedom from chained minds
Freedom from captured dreams
Freedom from limited abilities
I walk in my African land
My Africa bids welcome
As I enter with pride
Knowing that the war has been won
And success awaits
I walk in my African land
poem by Gabi Ngubeni
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Mama Africa's Identity
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Fulanis and the Fulbes;
But the Savannah and the Sahara are here to stay in Africa.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Dogons and the Shilluks;
And of the cowries usedas money in those days,
But the identities of the African are in many faces.
It is like a durbar in Africa and,
At the market plac to meet others;
But a visit to the tomatoes market in Ghana will tell you much.
Mama African's identity,
And like 'the Golden Stool' of the Ashanti Kingsdom!
But wait for the dried-fish on the coasts of Africa.
Visit St. Louis in the delta of Senegal and learn about the ways of the African,
For my home i in El Molo;
And like Mama Africa's identity praising my muse.
Mama African's identity,
And of the pygmies in Central Africa!
But i have my mind on the Rift Valley,
And like the mirror of the rivers, lakes and the seas of Africa! !
The Massai and the Dinka do play their roles,
And like the Nubaians in South Sudan;
But with the temperature above 40 degrees in most parts of Africa.
Mama Africa's identity,
And like a message to my lover in Lalibala;
For early in the morning came the leopards to drink some water,
But a visit to Mount Meru will entice you.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Zulus and the Rendilles;
But the Afars are here to blend with the dry land.
Mama Africa's identity,
With the rhythms and rituals of the Africans!
And like the tribes of Ovambo, Herero, Xhosa, Shona and Matabele.
And like the Bemba, the Tonga and the Ovaimbundu!
But the red land of Africa care for you all.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of River Limpopo in the mist of love;
But try to visit the Victoria Falls to satisfy your curiosity.
Mama Africa's identity,
And of the Himbas with their traditional dance;
But the Kikuyu, the Hutu, the Tutsi and the Hambukushu are also there,
For Africa is a very big continent for all of us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The South African Rain
The South African Bank
Mushroom which bare as if it has never bare from the soil
They were stupid giggling because you have take over Drankensberg Mountains
They called you a rebel for you silent footstep
You flew Higher above the sky like a hawk flying towards chicken babies
Your truly sound cause us to tremble but with no way to hide
You cause us to tremble when you darkening the South Africa up and down
The thunder rumbling
It shakes all directions
It shakes Durban and causes us to mumble as it is a new thing
Grow up Bank of the Banks
Grow up until you touch the sky
Grow up even if they cast obstacles on you
Turn the obstacles into you catalyst to accelerate your activities.
The Africa that is hungry will be saved by the by African Bank.
You are like a cow that produces an everlasting cream of milk
We trust you in our Africa Unity
All nations will Bow down to African Rain.
All nations will be judge by you
You are the queen of South African Rain
When it is dry the woman top up the mountains and they ask you for rain
You give the rain as it is instructed
They talk about globalization and global warming
But we shall never experience weather draught in South Africa
That is because we have our King NOMKHUBULWANE who will always listen to our rain songs and brings us rain for food
South African King of Rain: we don’t see you but witness your presence
Hear and there they challenge the Zulu Kingdom
But there is no one who will ever challenge the kingdom of the Queen of Rain
I feel the tears of sorrow
These are the tears of sorrow over African Child who has come to accept all forms of western religions
Africa you have forget that you have supernatural power of the spirits that was inherited from your past heroes
The power is always there if you need them.
I believe in Africa
I believe in Shaka and Dindane
I believe in Nomkhubulwane
I believe in Africa Venomas
Africa HA HA HA Earthquakes and Tornadoes no more in South Africa
Demons no more in South Africa
We are the chiefs of security spirits
Even human evaluated hear and spread elsewhere
So we are more than human but fore ancestors
Do you think the spirit of human origin must have disappeared within a period of few million years
NO if so no anyone could have continue to live
For if the cornerstone or foundations of the house fall the whole building fall down.
Thank you Africa thank
I am thanking you that I was born in your Island
For I have already inherited the spirits of human making characters
I was not there when you made the man character
But I believe you had your own supernatural undiscovered characteristics
Say what you need to say there is nothing that can challenge the supernatural spirit of Africa.
Come Africa: Woza shembe
Come Africa: Woza Mangosuthu Buthelezi
Come Africa: Woza Goodwill Zwelithini Zulu
Come Africa, Come Shaka Zulu
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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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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The Oracles
Invaders, invaders! The oracles must be consulted;
From the North to the South and,
From the East to the West are the African Oracles.
The oracles of my ancestors are,
The trademarks of my African identity to a call;
We have to consult the oracles in times of need.
Who said it is not rue?
Who said it is not powerful?
Visit the Oracles of Africa and know the truth.
The African Oracles,
Do ask Mr. Okonkwo about it;
He will tell you why,
The Whiteman's 'iron Horse' was hanged on a tree.
Oh! The oracles of my ancestors;
Out of their mystic myths,
So lay their powers.
Of their creative arts and acts,
Of their spell which makes me think otherwise;
Yet still, the African lacks behind in many things.
If onne could fly in the thin air and able to vanish,
Why can't they form a Universal Soldier in Africa? !
Those are they who are bullet-proof too;
Are these Oracles also working for them?
The oracles,
The Oracles of Africa!
With respective rites for a passer-by who,
Wants to know more about the African;
Oh, the oracles of my forefathers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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Son Of Africa
Listen Africa listen!
Listen to the words of a stallion
Listen as I speak of a giant,
An African giant
A giant entangled by his own hand made snares
Yes! Indodana ya se Africa
Un-wax your ears and Listen
Great warrior of the chimurenga,
Phela you stood against white powers
And liberated black wishes
Against the Blairs and Bushes you stood.
Courageous, you battled the spite of the Smith.
Now listen Ndodana ya se Africa
Hear this young stallion galloping towards the truth.
In Limbo you stand snared by your own snares
In Limbo, you warrior remain just a memory
Hau lalela son of the soil,
It’s your people who go under the soil
Their calabashes are dry, they go under the soil.
Under the soil their bellies lie empty
Hau lalela Ndodana ya se Africa
Listen son of Africa
Do not stand as proud as death
Do not let its sting be your companion
An African warrior you must once more become
Adorn the spirit of Madiba, No easy walk to freedom
Remember...Listen...Remember.
T he Ndukus and the rocks, Africa’s weapons of old
Now Son of the Soil’s desires battle against Africa
Hau listen son of Africa
Lalela...listen...lalela
poem by David Lekoba
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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
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Jessica The Racist Beauty Model
You speak words
Words that pun a knife on the heart
You speak words
Words that destroy unity
You speak words
Words that kill the black generation
I sit and wonder
How proud your ancestors will be of you
that you have once again
Reflected the true hate that boils
In the blood veins of your family
But how cruel,
Because you re-declare a war
That you already defeated already
How disgusting of you
Travelling the world
With pride that you represent
The rainbow nation
But then you intimidate your country
And insult your publicity
All with just a single word
That signify racism to black african generation
And today
You have demoted your dignity
You have failed you success
And you shall never ever in my heart
Be a proud South African
And never will give you the respect you deserve
I know you do not care,
But just like you!
In that way I opt to make my ancestore very happy,
You failed
Yes! You failed South Africa
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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African Spokesman
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
Because, the muse of my African Stew tastes different from yours!
And, it is infused with a special ingredient from the African Soil.
I am the muse that you are reading and,
I am the African Child with my words so sweet! !
And like the love of your mind without the wars around you;
Because, i am always for the peace of this world.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I am presenting the muse of my mind from Africa to educate you;
For, mankind had now made more amumunitions for war!
But, we really don't need them when, we talk about peace on this earth.
Listen and look for peace around you always,
Learn and care for others around you always,
For education is not always about degrees! !
Because, the very professors are the very ones who made these weapons of war.
The African Spokesman is what i am,
Along the streets of Africa and around the hiding places of the ghettoes!
For, i have seen many things in my life and, i have more to tell to you;
But, like the colours of the rainbow,
We need to love each other in the name of the colours that nature gave us.
I am the African Spokesman and,
I have something for you;
But, if you listen very carefully, you will feel the muse of my love around you!
Because, this world is now being captured by the weapons of war than peace.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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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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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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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 Believe Africa.
I'm proud to be African,
I'm proud to be a Ugandan,
The dark color of my skin, I love it,
No beauty like Africa, Black people,
Whoever thinks about me (AFRICA) negatively,
There you're wrong,
These Minerals I hold, Everybody yearns for it,
I'm the source of everything,
Minerals, Nature, Good climate, Tourist
And everything you ever heard of and not,
I'm the footsteps of God,
Everybody knows that,
I believe in Africa and
I believe to change everything to the Africans
Want it,
Where do we go from here?
Everybody from anywhere runs to me,
I flow everywhere, call me the Nile,
I'm the number one even in
The alphabet of the continents,
Africa and the others follows.
poem by Kiyaga Lyttle Cephas
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