#liberia - Hello Poetry

High up above our war-torn city, On Snapper hills sit the old lighthouse. For years in storms, she did her duty Rain or shine without any kind of excuse. High above our beautiful sandy shores, Just like a good mother, she watches not only over vessels but those Who lost hopes and suffered all kinds of damages. The light she flashes has for years, Served as a perpetual beacon of hope For those with bad memories and fears, those traumatized by wars who still can't live and cope. High above Monrovia, she stands Watching the resilient people below Survivors of the deadly Ebola strands Who once refused to bow their heads low. High above she sits, beyond the Montserrado basin. At night her light remains the star of the city, That has endured moaning and crying, A city that has seen the good, the bad and the ugly. The old lighthouse still stands there today, directing maritime traffic at night and flashing light over our beloved city That for years witnessed a ****** and senseless fight. IB-Poetry©️ 2/19/2018

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Feb 18, 2018

Feb 18, 2018 at 10:33 PM UTC

Vanguard-Poetry23

The Lighthouse Above Monrovia

High up above our war-torn city, On Snapper hills sit the old lighthouse. For years in storms, she did her duty Rain or shine without any kind of excuse. High above our beautiful sandy shores, Just like a good mother, she watches not only over vessels but those Who lost hopes and suffered all kinds of damages. The light she flashes has for years, Served as a perpetual beacon of hope For those with bad memories and fears, those traumatized by wars who still can't live and cope. High above Monrovia, she stands Watching the resilient people below Survivors of the deadly Ebola strands Who once refused to bow their heads low. High above she sits, beyond the Montserrado basin. At night her light remains the star of the city, That has endured moaning and crying, A city that has seen the good, the bad and the ugly. The old lighthouse still stands there today, directing maritime traffic at night and flashing light over our beloved city That for years witnessed a ****** and senseless fight. IB-Poetry©️ 2/19/2018

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I'm not a writer trying to share a story, I'm a survivor telling you a true story. I'm not just a poet having fun and living, I saw bad things when I was younger. That was when things were harder. when women and old people were helpless and young people were hopeless. It was that time when good parents were powerless to protect their underage girls from **** and molestation at the hands of drugged-up child soldiers with bloodshot eyes. I did something other boys were too scared to do, I turned into a man and took survival into my hands. It was that time when men and women used the same place to bathe and go to the loo. I saw many many hungry people eating palm cabbage and wild grasses malnourished children and dying people. I saw hands chopped off with cutlasses. I saw thousands of families separated and fathers killed or incarcerated. I saw silly young men pick up arms and chopped off people's limbs like hideous things were their aims. I saw really bad things and cried to God for wings like an angel to fly away because I saw no other way. I saw people running to God and getting murdered in his church. I don't know, but he didn't say a word It's like He just sat down and watch? I saw bad things I planned my escape from poverty, from a war-torn country. It was that time when your parents, who come from the same generation as I, were looking up to their mom's for breast milk. It was that time when no one wore silk, it was a time of fear,it was wartime. It was that time when bullets determined eating time and bedtime. It was that time when pretty boys had nothing in their wallets. It was that time when PYJ ate dinner and played gospel on his guitar like he was our savior and not a sinner. © IvanBrooksPoetry 12/9/2018

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Sep 13, 2018

Sep 13, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC

Vanguard-Poetry23

A Poet,A Survivor,A True Story

I'm not a writer trying to share a story, I'm a survivor telling you a true story. I'm not just a poet having fun and living, I saw bad things when I was younger. That was when things were harder. when women and old people were helpless and young people were hopeless. It was that time when good parents were powerless to protect their underage girls from **** and molestation at the hands of drugged-up child soldiers with bloodshot eyes. I did something other boys were too scared to do, I turned into a man and took survival into my hands. It was that time when men and women used the same place to bathe and go to the loo. I saw many many hungry people eating palm cabbage and wild grasses malnourished children and dying people. I saw hands chopped off with cutlasses. I saw thousands of families separated and fathers killed or incarcerated. I saw silly young men pick up arms and chopped off people's limbs like hideous things were their aims. I saw really bad things and cried to God for wings like an angel to fly away because I saw no other way. I saw people running to God and getting murdered in his church. I don't know, but he didn't say a word It's like He just sat down and watch? I saw bad things I planned my escape from poverty, from a war-torn country. It was that time when your parents, who come from the same generation as I, were looking up to their mom's for breast milk. It was that time when no one wore silk, it was a time of fear,it was wartime. It was that time when bullets determined eating time and bedtime. It was that time when pretty boys had nothing in their wallets. It was that time when PYJ ate dinner and played gospel on his guitar like he was our savior and not a sinner. © IvanBrooksPoetry 12/9/2018

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I am Liberia! Though scared by scourges of allien spades, My resilience bears the fountain of heaven's grace, Piercing the pangs of all my shades! My independence, I breathed into Africa's lungs, Clothed her with my stripes, the red, white and blue; And gave her a star when she knew not one! My waters rhythm waves of freedom, Hailing treasured mountains and supreme chiefdoms. Divine gemstones overflow the scopes of my coast, Their sparkles define the image of my undeniable beauty! My children are the ordained species of apex predators! Their lineages are woven with blackness, The tattooed birthmark of optimism— Unbleached to proclaim the glorified identity of their motherland! With arms of liberty I do solemnly pledge The allegiance of a century filled heritage! I today connect a living channel to the realm of your soul, Bidding you welcome, Welcome to Rediscover Mama Liberia

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Dec 23, 2020

Dec 23, 2020 at 6:47 PM UTC

charleydeinspirator

Liberian Spoken Word Poet — I AM LIBERIA

I am Liberia! Though scared by scourges of allien spades, My resilience bears the fountain of heaven's grace, Piercing the pangs of all my shades! My independence, I breathed into Africa's lungs, Clothed her with my stripes, the red, white and blue; And gave her a star when she knew not one! My waters rhythm waves of freedom, Hailing treasured mountains and supreme chiefdoms. Divine gemstones overflow the scopes of my coast, Their sparkles define the image of my undeniable beauty! My children are the ordained species of apex predators! Their lineages are woven with blackness, The tattooed birthmark of optimism— Unbleached to proclaim the glorified identity of their motherland! With arms of liberty I do solemnly pledge The allegiance of a century filled heritage! I today connect a living channel to the realm of your soul, Bidding you welcome, Welcome to Rediscover Mama Liberia

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Oh! Thou sweet land of the free, 🇱🇷 You paved the way so others could find their ways Where men of letter fought for a better day, And find solutions without delay. Oh! The first daughter of Africa 🇱🇷 Your children lied in a chronic state, as certain 'negatives' have long assumed the roles of 'positives' in their internal system, And the govern has become ungovernable. Oh! Belove mama Liberia 🇱🇷 Your children are ruled by People who only let their bias egos and emotion speak for them. People who cannot address their fellow people without reading it from the papers! Every word they say is what their hearts never possessed nor desire. Oh! The first star of the white man's grave🇱🇷 Agony has become the crying concern of your children, Crying for liberation in the hands of the oppressor Their cruel wicked hands have turned our situation into a desperate one Oh! Mama, you children can't bear it any longer🇱🇷 They are now surviving instead of living, Should they die hoping for better days, Or keep surviving the horrible ways,

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Feb 26, 2020

Feb 26, 2020 at 9:25 AM UTC

Kromahisiaka

Land of the Free (Liberia)

Oh! Thou sweet land of the free, 🇱🇷 You paved the way so others could find their ways Where men of letter fought for a better day, And find solutions without delay. Oh! The first daughter of Africa 🇱🇷 Your children lied in a chronic state, as certain 'negatives' have long assumed the roles of 'positives' in their internal system, And the govern has become ungovernable. Oh! Belove mama Liberia 🇱🇷 Your children are ruled by People who only let their bias egos and emotion speak for them. People who cannot address their fellow people without reading it from the papers! Every word they say is what their hearts never possessed nor desire. Oh! The first star of the white man's grave🇱🇷 Agony has become the crying concern of your children, Crying for liberation in the hands of the oppressor Their cruel wicked hands have turned our situation into a desperate one Oh! Mama, you children can't bear it any longer🇱🇷 They are now surviving instead of living, Should they die hoping for better days, Or keep surviving the horrible ways,

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One day God created the Heavens and Earth and Sonewen From that impoverished Ghetto came great men and women And from her shores came Zogos that are nationally notorious Yet from in one blessed home came a child bound to be famous. From His Throne he saw that his handed works was very good So In every households He placed a family to populate the hood And so from sunrise to sunset, their faces glowed with happiness Yet it was from one blessed home came a poet bound for greatness. One day the rumours of war began to echo on the playgrounds It was December and arid heat had just dried up the muddy ponds As far as the eyes could see, stranded frogs hopped and jumped Signs the history of the Sonewen ghetto was about to be transformed. Transformed it did because in her, the elements of war found a safe haven Exacerbated by war, compounded by poverty still to God she said Amen Trusting in Him to bless and bring prosperity according to his divine favors So from this humble child comes a big thank you for answering his prayers .

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Jan 11, 2018

Jan 11, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC

Vanguard-Poetry23

Ghetto Poet

One day God created the Heavens and Earth and Sonewen From that impoverished Ghetto came great men and women And from her shores came Zogos that are nationally notorious Yet from in one blessed home came a child bound to be famous. From His Throne he saw that his handed works was very good So In every households He placed a family to populate the hood And so from sunrise to sunset, their faces glowed with happiness Yet it was from one blessed home came a poet bound for greatness. One day the rumours of war began to echo on the playgrounds It was December and arid heat had just dried up the muddy ponds As far as the eyes could see, stranded frogs hopped and jumped Signs the history of the Sonewen ghetto was about to be transformed. Transformed it did because in her, the elements of war found a safe haven Exacerbated by war, compounded by poverty still to God she said Amen Trusting in Him to bless and bring prosperity according to his divine favors So from this humble child comes a big thank you for answering his prayers .

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Oh sweet land of liberty, Land of milk and honey, The rising sun, The sun among nations, Let your light so shine among us, Oh beloved land of the free, Shine bright for all to see, Be cherished and gratify. The rising sun, Let your true colors emits independently, Donating its own truth among us, Burn bright, stand brave, Lament no more, arise, Change has come, Brighten our cave, Emits your rays, Elevate us all, Be that nation among nations Oh mama Liberia, You are the rising sun.

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Mar 2, 2015

Mar 2, 2015 at 6:38 AM UTC

MinusculeEgo

The rising sun

Oh sweet land of liberty, Land of milk and honey, The rising sun, The sun among nations, Let your light so shine among us, Oh beloved land of the free, Shine bright for all to see, Be cherished and gratify. The rising sun, Let your true colors emits independently, Donating its own truth among us, Burn bright, stand brave, Lament no more, arise, Change has come, Brighten our cave, Emits your rays, Elevate us all, Be that nation among nations Oh mama Liberia, You are the rising sun.

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