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Aine Mar 2018
The first time I fell in love with a woman:

it was on a Saturday afternoon
a sunny day with blissful winds
I saw her walking down the street
talking to a friend,  tending to a child
and carrying a water bucket on her head

she looked so fragile at that moment
but yet so strong ,
she moved like a lion,  she had the weight of the whole world on her shoulders but still maintained her balance,  
a goddess in every kind and form

she left me In awe not just by her beauty
but her strength, her pose and confidence
the way she moved put models to shame
her voice as serene as the oceans breeze
she had something in her that just made my deadly  frown turn into a perfect smile

she made me happy,  I fell deeply

As she moved closer, I could see the sweat dripping from her gracefully curved face
I noticed how each drop fell off her with  a harmonious  movement, she was a queen with a crown not made of the jewels of this world but those which are rare and not known to superficials

She looked deeply hurt and tormented by either her past,present or the future that is still so scared
She hides her scars with everything she got
her smile on her face to keep away the reflection of  pain in her eyes
she was so badass but so soft inside

She walked past me with her head held high
she cared about no judgment but for one's peace of mind
She looked at me and we shared a smile
she spoke the silent language of admiration and pure love
and at that fateful moment I deeply fell in love with a woman

©mereidow
joel jokonia Mar 2018
Um spoiled for choice
As i look at all these beautiful african girls
I like  i like oMampofu
So. Filled with life
They sparkle with untired enthusiasm
Waiting to explore. To kno more, knowledge seekers
Leaning on life's edges....they excite me
But then i really do fear the power
oMaSibanda , abangehlulwa thambo strong women
They stand tall to life's demons
Ever open claws defending her family
I bite my lips as i ponder over
OmaKhumalo.,, the royal blood of amandebele
Enadla umuntu limyenga ngendaba
Uphelele lomfazi as she walks kudikiza umhlaba
Their skin so smooth dreams glide through it
And they know it
so they leave trails of pride when they pass by

I am spoiled of choice
Really the african girls are beautiful
I sometimes lose myself in the fine tuned voices
Of oMaNcube
OMpangazitha   bluberring sweet nothings
With a thousand stars held in her eyes
She suprises me sometimes
how she paints dark hours
Into abstract art with no care at all
Bending the rules to capture a smile

OmaMoyo power in speech
Their tongue builds a nation
For Her lips even with such authority stills spill lustful imaginations
Um spoilt for choice
Africa is beautiful such beautiful daisies
The humble sweet Mandlovu, ogatsheni, ontaba engabhodwa ngale kwayo
Big heart and such understanding
Silently holding up cries within
Soundproofing the screams of pain
With a smile that melts my soul
And oooh
OMaNyathi with natural yellow skin
Light beings colouring our dark covers
Uyapenda isizwe,
Obuhle obungakhuzeki
Confidently Conqouring man's heart
Um spoiled for choice
These sons of africa have made pillars of daughters
Each tribe holds omama, oauntie, ogogo, odadewethu,
Black African ladies
Forged in the wilds of africa
Taught to respect and love
I crown all african ladies
With fresh picked daises of my appreciation
For you..... You ladies of Africa you are
Queens
Cause of every imperfection
With every stumble,
Every struggle
You dont let trouble cling on
You walk on
high in your red stiletos
Tight brown pumps,
Black polished sandals
And dust off yesterday's thoughts
Cause u kno today is another day
Another chance to conquor
But if you dnt today u still wake up ivin. More equiped
Cause u an African woman

I am spoiled for choice my heart
Can not decide
My heart can not decide..
Mike Chigo Mar 2018
Long have I searched for answers,
Met not one that knows
Over different lands and waters
This quest takes me high and low
The furnace heats up and I cannot bear
But clutch my heart with silence and tears

A thin line between love and hate,
Many have died in faith or is it fate,
For things they believe or things they want to believe,
Many talk, many walk, many more fear,
But in those last moments, they take it all in silence and tears.

First it was love, now it is hate,
Vengeance burns red in her heart like hells gate
Who could she tell, who would believe her
Weak and helpless she succumbs to her father
Who always has his way and ties her to a chair
Here she cries every night...In silence and tears

Another day, another lay- he would say
Little did he know there was a price to pay
Now he lays helpless on his sick bay
Another passenger on the broad way
If only he’d known there was something to fear,
He wouldn’t be here, watching them – watching him
In silence and tears

In my darkness I see the light,
Blazing hot but not blinding me eyes
Now, I remember it was sometime in March
It must have come from her smile
The kind that puts color on a black heart
With only a name she leaves me in silence and tears.
Cana Mar 2018
I met an unfriendly parrot
I can’t blame him really. He lived in a cage
He stood there and squawked
Screaming displeasure at all who passed.
Staring balefully at sunburnt tourists
Asking if polly wants a *******
He doesn’t want a ****** single one.

I did find out what he liked.
Completely by accident.
Turns out he likes songs,
Click songs, because
“The white people cannot say Qongqothwane”
He lives in Bahamas and he is quite lovely. I stood there looking the fool and singing to him for 15 minutes.
Emily Miller Mar 2018
This is a love letter
To the African-American community.
Black, if you wish,
Or simply “neighbor”.
To the African-American community-
My people would not be here if it were not for you.
Here as in alive,
Not as in the states,
Because we came to the states to be alive,
Something that would not have been possible back home,
But you helped us stay that way,
When our trades were not accepted
By soft-palmed,
American-accented
People of the US.
When we came here to escape death and oppression,
We were welcomed not by the blonde-haired, blue-eyed people we saw in the advertisements from the war,
We did not step off of the boat and into the arms of the benevolent angels we had heard of,
No,
We came to America and found you.
African-American community,
At the time,
You hardly had a home to give,
And yet you offered it to us when we had none.
Your culture was ravaged by war and slavery,
And yet you encouraged us to preserve our’s.
African-American community,
My people came here with no English and no education,
And to the residents here,
The two are synonymous.
My family,
Though skilled in trades handed down by generations of people in our tribe,
Father to son,
And mother to daughter,
Our traditions were passed down,
But when we arrived in the new world,
We were like babes in arm,
Hardly knowing how to walk.
African-American community,
This is a thank you,
For taking my people by the hand and pressing their fingers into the soil,
Teaching us how to coax life out of it.
Teaching us how to translate our language of terracing in the mountains
To sowing in the fields,
When none would take us for work,
Season after season
Of my family hushing the mother language off the tongues of our children
So that they would sound less foreign,
More American,
Black community,
You taught my family how to prepare for a blistering Texas heat,
When they were built to withstand an Eastern chill.
Black community,
You showed my people what it was like
To build a life from the ground,
The strange,
Alien,
American ground,
Up.
You took my people and led them out of the darkness of oppression and corruption
And into the light of the real American dream,
The one where people who have been beaten into the earth can rise up like a Phoenix.
Black community,
You showed us what to do with the dirt and the sandy loam
Until we built upon it churches,
Homes,
Harvested from it sustenance,
And within it,
Buried our dead.
Black community,
This is a love letter,
Because love is the only reason I can think of
As to why you had mercy on my battered, broken people,
Accepting our calloused hands in thanks,
As we had nothing else to offer.
Neighbors,
This is a thank you,
From the small, inconsequential non-natives,
Round and sturdy,
And the savage language with unfamiliar roots,
From my people,
With un-American eyes,
Coal-black and slanted,
Thank you,
On behalf of my ancestors for the actions of your’s,
Neighbors,
Thank you.
Your people were not the ones that struck the beads and herbs from our hair,
Snatched the language from our lips,
And took the ribbons tied to our shoulders and wrapped them ‘round our throats,
Choking the accent out of our mouths,
Neighbors,
That was not you.
Within God’s walls,
Moj Boze,
Ti Bok,
The ones built on the ground you brought us to,
We are told not to condemn the descendants of those who hurt us,
But to praise that of those who did not.
So here I am,
Neighbors,
Writing you a love letter
Because all I have to offer
Is my thanks.
My people,
Though Americanized
And void of the language and traditions that they were told to abandon,
Stand strong today,
And I,
A woman,
Just as stout and ungraceful as the tribe that bore me,
I am educated.
I not only learn English,
But I master it.
I earn my money and I keep it,
No man takes it from me,
Or refuses to sell me land because I am unmarried,
No government can remove me
And ****** me into a camp
Or a foreign country where I will not be a bother,
And although my people have been stripped of their name and placed under the color-coded category of person
On the spectrum that everyone seems to abide by,
You,
Neighbors,
Stood by us.
Thank you.
Leena Feb 2018
Different by color
But the same inside
Always kept separated

Making my rebellion
To those who say they own me
Because I am not property

Everyday is a fight
Working for no money
Night and day

Family torn apart
Whipping for trying to run
One day I will be free

Invisible and forgotten
By those who are above us
Nothing but a waste of their money when we're free

Those who treat us as equal
Are the ones who freed us from this terrible life
Are our saviors forever

Some of us will never find our family
We will adopt the children torn from their families
We are free without knowing our rights
So are we truly free
I wrote this when we were learning about African American history
Mena Mulugeta Jan 2018
Beautiful African girl
you are worth more than
a million things often
times You don't realize
you worth more than a dream.
Love who youve become,
love your skin

realize you are sweet
just like milk & honey.
Beautiful African girl
do not be afraid
and not accomplish
things.
Look back at this
and realize what you mean.

Beautiful african girl
you’ve got a dream
go fulfill it never-stop
in what you believe.
Em Jan 2018
Yes all lives matter
but not all lives
have been marginalized.
There's no right end of a gun
One dies and
another is shunned
One is black and the other is white
Can we stop
and stand
and fight
For ours, their's, everyone's
Equal
Rights.

This is not a discussion
about one man's arms
but of another man's life.
Ivan Brooks Sr Jan 2018
As thousands of migrants sojourned from Timbuktu
All destined for Libya from the ancient Kingdom of Mali,
One ,a patched lip skinny kid , greeted them''Assalamualaikum''
''Why are we dying in Libya ?'' asks the young migrant called Ali.

For several months , everyday , from sunset to sunrise
Ali said he too dreamed of being a part of the mass migration
'' Oh my dear brothers, I wish your plans were otherwise ''
For many of you will not reach your final destination.

Ali said Libya was the cradle of modern day slavery,
Death trap ,a magnate that lures desperate poor Africans
Escaping prosecution, economic hardships and poverty
Just for them to end up dead like sardines in cans.

Oh Africa Ali asks,where are all of your leaders?
What have we done to deserve this unspeakable evil?
Is it because of the hues of our beautiful black leathers?
When did we become the slavery anvil?

Man to man , is so unjust '' he quoted Bob Marley
'' But Arab to Black Africans is another sad story ! ''
'' Why are Black people being sold into slavery?
Why is the whole world sitting so supinely?

~ Ivan Brooks Sr ~
Man to man is so unjust ''says Bob Marley
''Arab against black man is another story'' says the migrant called Ali
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