#afrika
She stands tall.
Shaken by the regime - all the way to a fall.
Still standing firm in her roots,
striving against the cabinet in suite.
She stands tall.
Her roots being hacked at and poisoned,
yet she does not fall.
She does not fall.
Insults hit her heart,
yet she does not begin to stall,
but her heart begins to fall.
She does not fall.
Now she stands taller
like an elegant self-conscious queen,
but with the heart of a mother that no one has ever seen.
Slowly breaking,
She falls.
The abuse has become too much.
Just to name a cause;
It was you with your helpful, root unearthing touch.
RIP Mama Afrika.
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 1:34 PM UTC
I see life in grey,
Where black does not stand alone without white,
Where the melanin of my skin does not factor as to how society sees me,
Where Mother’s language that rolls from my tongue is never labeled.
The only struggle I should face is between the relationships
I try to mount
...between pen and paper
…between my head and my heart.
Where common sense should trump any and every stereotype,
Where the only thing foreign is the knowledge I am yet to acquire,
Or the journeys I am yet to trudge upon.
Borne of the soil that bears some of the greatest fruits,
I am one of Her many blessings,
An Afrikan princess that is still rising to her majestic throne,
That seeks to reign over a land united
Behind the death of the rainbow;
The rebirth of decolonialism.
And casts all children of the corn of these chains,
Golden bronze bonds
That continue to enslave the people of true liberty, and prosperity.
The liberty that ascertains that no man shall ever be consumed
By their hunger for superiority.
For
I AM because WE ARE!
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
I am an Afrikan
Not only because I was born in Afrika
But because Afrika was born in me
My name speaks of the beauty of the Afrikan landscape, animals and their interactions
I am of the Afrikan skin, soil, sky, valleys, rivers and mountains
My ancestors were born in Afrika My mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather, my great grandmother, my great grandfather and their forefathers were all born in Afrika
They died in Afrika
I was born in Afrika
I will die in Afrika
My ancestors knew no other land but Afrika
I know no other home but Afrika
I am a true Afrikan
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
I'm the one with the golden horn
Speaking the truths of our forefathers buried under our feet
Having died digging gold for the white man
I believe I was born to teach
Teach the Afrikan child of their history
For to face your future
You must embrace your past
They labeled us the dark continent
After they had forced us to dig up the glistening black coal beneath our homes
Which covered our bare backs like the oil they were draining from under our homes
Our homes they took us away from and ran to the ground
To make way for their stone and steel castle
We still work like slaves we once were
To buy back our gold, silver, oil and souls
They buried the idea of us being nothing but slaves so deep in our subconscious
We have lost our conscience and fallen for their ways
We see a fellow child of the soil as a nuisance when they are begging for scrapes of food and warm clothes
They placed Afrika's offspring behind metal bars with the apes, hyenas, gazelles and watched from the distance with crocodile tears at the suffering "aborigines"
Listen to the song in the wind
Your ancestors are singing underneath the oceans they were thrown in
Your forefathers are singing underneath the soil beneath your step
Listen
Child.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
TO AFRIKA, THE POWERFUL GIANT WHO IS BOUND, TEARS AT HER OWN FLESH AND CAN NOT SEE HER OWN BEAUTY
How long shall we grind our teeth?
As old man's bones crack to the beat
Of their picks digging white man gold in black man land
Afrika mama, you soul is sold
Vuka Afrika Mama
Ikati lilele eziko
As vultures tap dance on your corrugated iron roof
Hyenas point and cackle baring sharpened tooth
All the while you slumbered
They shackled you and tore your treasure asunder
Now is the time to break free
Clear those scales from your eyes so you can see
How long shall we cry these crocodile tears?
As the swollen belly babies, eyes filled with fear
Watch the queen who bore them, cowered in the corner, face to the ground
Battered by the head of the household, asserting his authority
No mercy to be found
Zijonge Afrika mama
Ubone ubuhle bakho
They lied and said your ebony skin wasn't beautiful
At all cost remain dutiful
Head bowed, queen uncrowned
All the while you doubt yourself
There are those who eye and pillage your riches
May our united voice bring you to your senses
Lest you find yourself stripped naked, while balancing on fences
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC