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laying her down,
kissing every inch of her sweet,
warm body.

biting your neck,
scratching your back,
tearing at your skin.

gasping, moaning, screaming.
giving you what you want.

lay me down..
please me..
tease me..

for fill my addiction, my craving
my cure!
 May 2016 Cynthia Danso
Torin
You love me
By loving my words
These words that I write
Are a part of me
My love
My soul
Every better dream I hold
You love me
By reading my words
Your the reason I write
Your a part of me
My truth
My hope
Every light I'll ever show

Still my doubt
For every sunrise
A sunset
For every love found
A love lost
What if my words never reach you?
What if this sunset is the last
And the world sinks into darkness?
Eternal night without the song the moon sings

You love me
By loving my words
A physical extension of my soul
A part of me
My love for you
Every reason I have to be strong

And my fear
These words I write
Are never seen by your garden eyes
A pain I can't bear
If you don't read the words I write
I see no more reason to fight
And the kiss of my thoughts
Never reaches your mind

You love me
I'll write a summer for you
Even if you feel winter in your soul
I love you
And my words are all the proof
You'll ever need to see the truth
***
African Beats
Written By- Shakela Storr

African Beats, African Beats, African Beats, can u hear those African beats
Im having sleepless nights, nightmares with meanings of life, waking up in cold sweats my heart  is pounding and it goes Boom Boom and its goes faster Boom Boom and faster Boom Boom.
And I begin to get weak and the sound of drums ring off in my ear like an alarm clock and its loud and it gets louder and louder every min and I start to lose it and I scream
( stopppppppppppp) !
Tossing and turning in my bed I feel scared the beats show me a pregnant woman who was beaten to shreds.
Then I see slaves in shackles and were tackled by the white slaves masters who thought they were nothing but senseless disgusting cattle’s .
The beats get louder and I see my forefathers with chains around their neck fifty lashes to their chest with demands that if they don’t shut up and work their children are next.
The beats get louder and I cry stopppppppppppp!!!! ,  but instead all I see is an old crippled man working on a cotton field with  dreams of being free to go and he sings very loudly let my people go.  
Then I heard him sing ‘’ Wait in the water, wait in the water children, wait in the water God is gonna trouble the waters’’.
  O what a sight to see black African people not being free, then the beats show me a family of three who was brutally murdered because they decided it was time for freedom of speech.
African beats, African Beats, African Beats can u hear those African Beats,
Yes drum beats I can hear you, but why do you trouble me so, why do you make my heart so weak with tears I have to know?
Why do you show me such horrifying images, what are you trying to say  i just want you to leave me alone and go away.
Why were black people treated so bad, why were these white people so mad? 
 Why did they take black people from the motherland and ship them away to be so sold like gold, why did they tear families apart that’s so cold?
Africans beats I beg of u please leave me alone whatever your trying to say I get the picture Black African people have come a long long way.
Black people have come so far that we should be proud of where we are today.
We should be proud that were even allowed to pray.
We should be proud that our ancestors fought for our rights and though  it was never easy they didn’t give up without a fight.
We should be proud that Martin luther King Jr  had a dream and saw us 20 , 30 years later not living in shame.
We should be proud that our ancestors were so brave they had a hard life but it surely paid off one day.
Beats I hear your message and it’s very clear I am black and proud to be here.

Written by- Shakela Storr
This poem is about the struggles of Black African History where we use to be and where we are today. Enjoy
Have you ever come to my country to Russia?
It may be nay or yes, but Russia is a strange country,
It is people are funny and lively, with strong sense for success,
Those from Moscow are tall and confidently walking in a bounce,
Those from hinterland Russia often display inferiority on the face,
But conventional Russian has a keen nose for property and success,
A scientist in Russia is a beacon of interest like a pastor in Africa,
All Russians are somehow intelligent with humour and strong success motive,
Like once the case of a Russian barren woman, in the city of Moscow,
She was a Muzhik by class disposition, but proselytized into Bolshevism,
By the then Bush fire of Vladimir Ilyanov Lenin through his song of workers,
She was thus a dear comrade or comradess? Her Name was Sofia Ludwickfna,
She had been barren, o no! Childless for generations and generations,
Her marriage had been on-off and on-off due to this misfortunate pale,
Of inability to bear a child at most a son to be name after Lenin,
Every Russian man condemned her after a short while of marriage
To public distaste whenever it was discovered that Sofia was barren,
As usual, Russian men hinge their love manners on the native wisdom that;
Bogy Vysoky Tsar Dalyko; meaning God is far a way but the tsar is near,
But one day when Sofia had celebrated her menopausal day of 40th birthday,
She realized that something like a lump is felt in her tummy,
She rushed to the medic at the high street Moscow
For clinical service lest the lump grows in to cancerous tumor,
But to her stark surprise; the medic declared her pregnant,
In fact two months pregnant, and nothing else,
She asked if the pregnancy carried a boy or a girl,
For she feared to sire a boy as it was only a peasant,
That mated her in the fields during the previous full moon,
But the medic declined a comment, as his technology was not fit,
To establish the fetal gender, may be she better tries America or Germany,
But any way, she walked home happy, whistling her best lyrical
Perhaps a sonnet to the revolution and Vladimir Lenin,
The ninth month came, and Sofia delivered peacefully,
In fact a bouncing baby boy, with strong jaws like a Moscow Muzhik,
It was a moment of her joy as the gods of Russia had remembered her,
The baby grew and developed so well, it suckled and swallowed with sound,
It kicked nicely and waved its spatulate hands; a young son of Russia,
And indeed the joy of the baby made Sofia to grow fat and fat,
She named the baby four names; Tsar Alexander Tolstoy Vladimir Lenin,
On one warm after noon, Sofia chose to have a nap under the jacaranda tree,
To feel the breeze as her baby suckled, light slumber over took her nerves,
Then she fell into a deep sleep, the baby was on her teats suckling and waving,
Making soft nice sounds of thaa thaa thaaaaaaaa!
Sofia began dreaming; she saw a very huge African man,
Utterly naked with bush hair on his deeply black ***** skin,
He was not circumcised; he came unto her making stupid sound,
Like wild Russian swine chasing a rhino, he came straight to her,
She began fighting and kicking the ***** away,
She kicked mightily in the style of Russian woman,
But the ***** was strong; he began biting off her *******,
One by on, he was biting and making gnomish ***** abracadabra,
She jumped at the *****’s kneck, she began strangulating him,
She pressed tight and tight, the ***** began making stupid sounds
Like a chimpanzee, again and again as she pressed hard into his Adams’ apple
Finally Sofia managed to **** the *****, and then she woke up from her sleep,
Only to realize it was not a ***** that she had killed, but her baby, it was dead!
She was a arrested by the KOSMOSOL and taken to the judge, accused for infanticide,
She recounted the ***** story on her defense, the judge and all Russians were agog,
They uniformly blamed the misfortune of Sofia on the increasing number of Negros in Moscow,
The judge ruled that all Negroes to be thoroughly beaten and chased out of Moscow,
To be confined in a more remote bushy area in the hinterland beyond the prison of Siberia.
Nefertari
Amenities of the African lands
Indigenous black beautiful roses
Of the African soil

Dark and strong
In a black alluring archaic vogue
an amara in black woman

Sisters of samandzie
Balleting in a black dulcet rhythm
Of the African ancient song
With an
Idrissa desta
The power of Thee
Black Spiritus mundi

Brown eyes, Thick bones
Curly ***** afros
Dark is deep and strong
An authentic unique beauty of nature
Glows and Flourishing
From deep within

I like it black and strong
Nefertari is an ancient Egyptian word meaning "Most beautiful"

Idrissa is the name from Senegal meaning "Immortal"

Desta is from the Amharic language of Ethiopia and it means “joy or
happiness.”

Amara is from Nigeria and it means “elegance or grace”.

Samandzie means "Spiritual world"

'Spiritus Mundi' was a term used by (W.B. Yeats) on his poem "The second coming"to describe the collective of the World/universe spirit

Please don't take this poem offensive if you are not an African or not with Brown skin, I'm not being racist or critical to other ethnic groups... I wrote this piece for my sisters who sometimes find themselves feeling uncomfortable with their physical appearance/ natural looks, the appearance doesn't really matters, what matters is what is inside you
I have been trampled upon
Yet here I stand.
Shoved and kicked down
Yet I've risen by God's hand.
I have been ridiculed, mocked and teased
For a second did you think it would phase me?
Oh please.

I am the epitome of feminine power
A lady of increasing inner strength by the hour.
I am an impenetrable spirit,
Soaring higher beyond dimension, space and time limit.
I am an infectious disease called happiness
A lady who knows her worth
And won't take anything less.

I am worthy
I am deserving
I am excellence
I am God-serving.

I am an African Woman:
A hand-crafted masterpiece
A conqueror of challenges and hardships
A lady of spiritual wealth and infinite being.

I am beauty personified.
An image of immortal greatness.

Harsh words of cruelty merely graze my surface
Label me a worthless piece of unwanted coal
And watch as I am put under pressure
And manifest into a bright diamond of immeasurable worth.
Unbreakable.

I am power
I am strength
I am an African Woman.
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