The Poisoned Succour
God created natural wells for all Africans
their insatiate thirst and hunger to assuage
but African leaders created poison to contaminate
the very wells that is meant to be their lifelines
man created politics that is very dirty in Africa
and poisoned the rich wells that is their succour
and the wells become the bane of the albatross
Oh! African, why kill your adornment on molehills
how long continue to suffer in the midst of plenty?
the offspring of the poison succour are huge
poverty, corruption, conflict, misappropriation
the offshoots of the offspring are many
Angola, Gabon, Nigeria, and Guinea and….
the new entrant is the coast that was full of gold
and now thinks can become the new African tiger
but remember, a tiger must not shout its tigertude
and pop not yet champagne bottles in your Osu castle
lest you tow the same dirty line of your predecessors
and turn your new found blessing into an ugly curse
poem by Dela Bobobee
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Ill Oil Wells Love You
I met a man in texas
And oh, he was so fine
And I said to myself
Self, Im gonna make him mine
He owned a lot of oil wells and his bank roll sure was healthy
And I new if I married him Id suddenly be wealthy
Oh Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
Well I never had no money
Not a penny to my name
And I said Id find a rich man
And Id love my way to fame
So he took mt in his arms
And I cuddled up real near
The money bug then bit me and I wispered in his ear
Oh, Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
He looked in to my eyes and thought he saw a love light shine
Nearly did he know that that light was dollar signs
Now that we are married there aint nothin left to tell
Well live happily ever after because all is well that ends well
Oh, Ill oil wells love you
Ill oil wells care
Ill oil wells need you
I want you oil wells dear
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know where Wells grow—Droughtless Wells
460
I know where Wells grow—Droughtless Wells—
Deep dug—for Summer days—
Where Mosses go no more away—
And Pebble—safely plays—
It's made of Fathoms—and a Belt—
A Belt of jagged Stone—
Inlaid with Emerald—half way down—
And Diamonds—jumbled on—
It has no Bucket—Were I rich
A Bucket I would buy—
I'm often thirsty—but my lips
Are so high up—You see—
I read in an Old fashioned Book
That People "thirst no more"—
The Wells have Buckets to them there—
It must mean that—I'm sure—
Shall We remember Parching—then?
Those Waters sound so grand—
I think a little Well—like Mine—
Dearer to understand—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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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 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 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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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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Station Master
In the dawns early light from a long and sleepless night
She returned again this morning from her long and restless flight
And her red hollow eyes did not show her much surprise
As she lay right down beside me like she never said goodbye
Please help me stationmaster, is the evening train on time
The wells run dry up yonder theres another down the line
It was all I could bear just to watch her lying there
Disowned and ragged princess with the sun locked in her hair
So cold, so frail with her mind locked in a jail
A victim of confusion, never knowing she could fail
Please help me stationmaster, is the evening train on time
The wells run dry up yonder theres another down the line
So I rocked her to sleep and I got up on my feet
And the day was filled with sunshine as I gazed across the street
And the door seemed to say over here step this way
The station is for travelers even you must ride someday
Please help me stationmaster, is the evening train on time
The wells run dry up yonder theres another down the line
Please help be stationmaster, can I stay for just awhile
Forgive me if Im weary I aint have much - much time to smile
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had the good fortune of speaking with Orson Wells many decades ago and he said 'Success is primarily luck anyway.' And I have been very lucky. Of course, Orson Wells was enormously talented and brilliant - so who am I to argue with him!
quote by George Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The African Son Glides
to elders he respect
under realistic rules he perfects
orders strength with patience
conquers foes with confidence
so much expected of his mature
too much needed of his nature
conspicuous eyes an African Son glides!
runs and roars like a tiger
laughs and lutes like a bird
honest to his kindness
loyal to his stubbornness
so long he longs for wisdom
for long strives for success
conspicuous eyes an African son glides!
an ancient mind of inabilities
such anxious heart of possibilities
that he climbs with pride
then denotes his cultures
yet lives for his tradition
a standing ovation!
are you an African son?
he cries not to wounds
he dispense not to scars
spites the evil lights
hates the evil sparks
conspicuous eyes an African Son glides!
arts in his intelligence
a kingdom of no redundancy
a divine world of innovation
enhanced in terms of denotation
thus music to his soul he enjoys
mixed lyrics to mind he bind
a true definition!
he extremes to extinction
leads with an elephant memory
controls with dirty hands of good
a bird flying low
but high enough not to be recognized
he lives in Africa and calls Africa home,
yes! min mind and spirit
a standing ovation!
becomes a prince to his father
that son is is what his mother refers
an example to his siblings
a secret admire of no faulse to the fantasy world
he lives Africa and so speaks
he dreams an African dream and true it becomes
he is the son to the land because
conspicuous eyes an African son glides
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Africa Hosts to Win
Good luck to all the African teams
I can already feel as Africa beams
my wish that an African team wins
Is not like searching in a bag of pins
but as a just reward for Africa’s toil
First ever world cup on African soil
Yes, the trophy goes to the very best
yet the race not to be for the swiftest
who may scorn to underrate the rest
but defeat with gusts is the sweetest
Lift high the flag of Africa’s new hope
with resolve to win enter the contest
calm waters make no sailors to cope
but dexterity comes from its conquest
Juggle balls with selfless team spirit
Have no fear! Within you lie so deep
a fountain of inbuilt courage, inspirit
the trophy is home so yours to keep
Let the drums of festivity roll again
in truth and indeed of a giant whole
new victories on ancient ruins regain
Go! Win! Let us make it…A GOAL!
There is another hosting that is real
its originality is from a divine source
that Africa is the true nurturing meal
that would sustain the earth as a force.
If life started from Africa but now in ruins
then its offspring sitting on lofty heights
to look down on its molehills as ill reins
are the fetters that can loosen its bights.
© Dela Bobobee
June 2010
poem by Dela Bobobee
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Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low
when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountians and the sea and fire at the same time
He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe.
Submitted by .eve.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Rise Up, Nigeria
Nigeria,
Giant of the blackworld
Created as a trigger
For the development of Africa.
On your skies
Are the brightness of the sun
And the illumination of the moon.
Within your belly flows the Niger.
Inside your womb criss-crosses Benue
All meandering to form a confluence
And proceeds to the Niger creeks
Excreting great alluvia
That makes our land fertile.
Nigeria,
Beautiful land of the savannah
A land adorns with evergreen forests
An earth crust emiting ceaseless wealth
A land that vomits immeasurable blackgold
Making nations to flow to you daily
For their survival
Nigeria, great nation!
Nigeria, good people!
Other nations romances you
They wish they are like you
They dream to have half of your resources
Natios hope to to have your resources
Rise up, great nation!
Stand up, good people!
African nations look towards you.
Blackworld beacons that you take the lead.
Do not allow these talennts to waste
Stamp out corruption in your midst.
Rise against violence.
Let schism be foreign.
Let's join hands together,
Let's take our place, again
Arise, Nigeria,
Arise, great people.
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Nigeria: The slumber
Nigeria, a people that suffer
A people that strive, a people that hunger
A people in a dark, deep and dangerous slumber
A people whose greed, ignorance and corruption linger
Whose deep wound heals on one side
but bleeds on the other
A people dragged into the mud
by those that arise from the mud
A people of democracy
A democracy of mediocrity
A democracy of evil greed
A democracy of rotten seed
A people of careless leadership
A people of spineless followership
Nigeria,
A plastic face
A prideless deep
A shameless she
Of salvage leaders
Nigeria, my country
Drowning in the pool of its blood
Spilled by its children
Nigeria, my country,
Moving in a circle
A cycle of religion
A cycle of tribe
A cycle of corruption
A cycle of destruction
Nigeria, my people
A people that suffer
A people that thirst
A people that hunger
A people in a deep, dark and dangerous slumber
A people whose light grows dimmer
Whose hope grows slimmer
Till eyes rise from the slumber
And greed appreciates hunger
And true voices shout like thunder
And willed feet stump and say no longer! !
Nigeria,
A people that suffer
A people that hunger
A people in a dark, deep and dangerous slumber….
poem by Andrew Ahile
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Poison Ivy
Nothing can compare
Two weeks I stared
Hands, hand tied
I got an itch
I call her poison ivy
It can kill
Hey hey, oh well
I've got an itch
I call her poison ivy
It can kill
Oh, well
Poison ivy
Poison ivy
Poison - hey hey hey hey
Took my youth
Everything that ever meant something
Nothing comes between me and you
Most of my friends
Most of my friends
Are dead because of you
Poison ivy
Poison ivy
Poison - hey hey hey hey
I had no choice
But to love you
Poison ivy
Poison ivy
Poison ivy
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
[fade and repeat to end]
song performed by by Von Blondies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tiger
Tiger with coat of dissimilar stripes,
When he’s angry, tiger swipes,
Tiger cautious, guarding his lair,
Danger lurking, tiger aware.
Tiger hungry so he hunts,
Facing quarry, tiger confronts.
Tiger waiting, being sly,
Undercover, no tiger espy.
Tiger detects, now he purrs,
Hunger pangs, tiger stirs.
Tiger quick, must now surprise,
Here we have one tiger, wise.
Tiger from his throat he roars,
Stretching out those tiger claws.
Tiger moving, stealthy pelt,
Expiration, by tiger dealt.
Tiger now with belly filled,
Anger passed, one tiger stilled.
Tiger sleeping, with the Pride,
Craving gone, tiger satisfied.
Tiger such a majestic sight,
Near extinction, tiger fight.
Tiger beautiful and fine,
You’re such a leonine feline.
Tiger we must have respect, ,
For your great tiger intellect.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Prof. Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe
Because of your encephalon
that boiled of Africanism
a benediction that you cursed
to the custom of Africans
we not,
But regret your absence nowadays
The esculent brains of your mind
the sempiternal thoughts of your head
that stood
amongst memories
of avid Africans in Africa
You left none,
But legacy
though only a few inherited,
many still regret being oblivious
your everlasting perception
In this land,
will forever stay prominent
We not,
But regret your absence,
reveal your spirit
to these doomed generations
do away with irrelevant intents
that most of your children indulge
It was suppose to be Africa,
Long before Your depature
it was suppose to be Africa,
way after your depature
your emphasis,
had always taught us,
that it has always been about
the African children
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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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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Sunshine’s Once Again Here
Sunshine is once again here
Glowing from in and out
Golden threads everywhere
When low down and in doubt
Wishing wells of yesterday
All that was in its old song
As the threads come and play
Together when we do long
All is in footsteps that come
Colors to a heart pounding
That where our feelings are from
Gold echoes their sounding
Sea of the touches and deep
Flowers within that don´t fall
Yours forever assets to keep
When colors of summer call
Sunshine is filling my window
With all that I see outside
Summer my roses shall grow
Now to its loveliness abide
Wishing wells to tomorrow
Every time in your uncertainty
Let summer yielding adagio
Make every desire guarantee
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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