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Africa the nation of wonder

They took the child
Away from wonder.

But wonder
Will always be in the child.
Stand aright
Walk upright
In honour of those
Who have gone forth.

Don’t be affright
As you blight
Away the fright
For those behind.

For it will
Be alright
As you are
Not alone.
A piece written to console and encourage those living with the tribulation of systemic racism.
Remember the days they ran
Into the woods to be at one with nature.
They NAVIGATED their way
around the old aged wise trees.
They were saturated with awe
As the birds TWEETED in perfect harmony.
The sun flaunted its opulence
As it pierced through the comforting CLOUDS.
The amazement never whittled away.
In that space they toured the
WONDERFUL WIDE WORLD.
Their minds grew as they etched
Their FACES in their BOOKS.
SAM SUNG joyously with
A sway in his footstep
As the smell of the nectareous
APPLE pie beckoned him home.

They are now garbed in the pacifying garment.
Lured into NAVIGATING their way around
The engulfing WORLD WIDE WEB.
Swamped with emotions whilst TWEETING all night long.
The hackers flounce their prowess
As they sear through the elusive CLOUD.
Life’s reality is painted as a life that isn’t on FACEBOOK.
Their SAMSUNG is in control of their thoughts,
Other lust for the latest APPLE gear.

O seeker of knowledge
O wise one
As invaluable and amazing it may seem
Use it wisely
Use it sparingly
Control it, don’t let it control you.
Otherwise,
it will steal your irreplaceable time.
It will rob you of YOU.
Your quest is to dance to the orchestra of nature
Not to jangle with departure from mother nature.
User beware
Conceal your voice
Elevate you minds
Meaningful change


Is borne from
Ennobled minds
Not
Clattered conversations.
The colonial masters came
With abounding plans to fragment.
They spread their wings over the diamonds,
They suffocated the gold,
They pecked at the copper,
They smothered the platinum,
They cornered the cobalt into their web,
They scurried away with the cocoa.

They clipped the wings of those
Left behind with
Fragmented land
Fragmented culture
Fragmented language
Fragmented sense of purpose
Fragmented sense of direction
Fragmented minds.

Once orderly people are now
Fragmented people trying to
Painstakingly piece it all together.
What an arduous task lies ahead,
But with God’s guidance it will be done.
My home lies somewhere
Across the ocean.
Devoid of my History,
Devoid of my Culture,
Devoid of my Heritage,
Denied of my true Identity,
My Soul is hollow.
Oh! Father thank you for being there
Every step of the way.
I wanted to capture the emotional plight of generations of enslaved Africans around the world and how they have been strengthened through God’s support.
I stand high and tall on my pedestal to Enlighten The World.
I stand high and tall for you all to be Liberated.
I raise my right arm in earnest,
For each and everyone of one of you
To be equal then, now and forever.
My Torch glows with a beacon of Equality
My Crown glistens with a glistening of Justice.
The water I stand on serves
To wash away the anger, anguish and agony of injustice.

I stand high and tall
For you all to see
But you do not see my Fears
That’s putting out my torch.
You do not see my Tear drops
Making ripples of anguish in the water far and wide.
You do not hear
The shearing of my tablet.
You do not wear
My splintering robe of hope.

As I stand high and tall
I do not EVER tire to
Raise my right hand of Liberty,
Shine my touch of Equality,
Wear my crown of Justice,  
For each and everyone of you.

Clothe me with a deserving garment of Liberty for all.
Adorn me with the garment of tranquillity amongst all.

God bless America
God bless Americans
#Liberty #Justice #Equality #Freedom #America #Inauguration #Injustice #Racism #Unity
My legacy was
To be laved twice a day,
To disport myself around the garden.
Enveloped in my crisp creaseless clothes,
Encircled by the aroma of blossoms.
My gladsome day was rounded
Off with a dinner fit for a King.
My education taught me
To read, write and a lot more.
I was conditioned to expect nothing less.


Her legacy was
To toil the soil on the farm
In threadbare clothes.
Steeped in baked clay,
Engulfed by the stench of the fields.
Her meed was to eat
Whatever there was.
Her education was to do
More than her fair share.
She was privileged to expect nothing more.


We walked the earth,
We breath the same air,
Yet,
Like the two oceans,
Our lives never transgress.
Our challenge is to reconcile our inheritances with what should be.
As the world rages,
I see a rainbow of mankind
Looking over the horizon.
Standing
Row by row,
Shoulder to shoulder,
Hand in hand,
Singing
In perfect harmony.
This piece concludes the Over the Rainbow series hoping for a peaceful world for all.
GREN fell,
But I’m still standing.

When you remember me,
Do not whine and whimper;
Do not shed tears of sorrow;
Do not lament over my departure.

I am in your fond thoughts;
I am in your large pulsating hearts;
I am in the air that you effortlessly breathe;
I am the cadence of your daily lives.

Remember me by my story,
Remember me by my smile,
Remember me by my journey,
Remember me by the work that I left behind.

Be thankful for my life.
Be thankful.
Be thankful.
Be thankful.
Today marks the 4th anniversary of the Grenfell tower fire in London UK. This poem is dedicated to the honour of Khadija Saye's legacy and the other victims of the Grenfell tower fire.
Without hesitation, man dazzled the bountiful land
That is until – the dark cloak descended.
A dagger penetrated the art of living
Bewilderment of the minds numbed the earth still.
Those who sprinted learnt to jog,
Those who jogged learnt to walk,
Those who walked learnt to stand still.
Life as they knew was washed away
They closed the heavy doors behind them.

Eagerly searching for answers
They watched the parting clouds
Wondering if they will ever reconcile.
They watched the rain drops roll down the drains
Wondering where they will end up.
They listened to the chirping birds
Wondering what message they had to bring.
They watched daffodils break the ground
For a sense of normality.

The heart longed for hugs and kisses,
The lips learnt to smile from a distance,
A wave from across the road will have to do
Knowing; it’s not enough but
Will have to suffice for now
For fear of the unknown.

Multitudes of goodbyes were left
Hanging in the thick air.
The lowering of men to the ground
Were missed by the anguished many.
The farewell ink ran dry.

People were humbled
Their craved conversations were dominated by
The dark cloak
They grappled with new words
Lockdown
Social distancing
Self isolation

Nature worked its magic around them
They looked to the sky for answers.
As the wind gushed through
The doves flew across the sky
Without a care in the world
Displaying the epitome of freedom
Pasted on the wall,
Glistening flat faced,
All warmed up
I unfold the images
Of destruction,
Blur out rackets of mortar,
Flip blue sky into black.
In the comfort
Of their homes,
They lament away,
At a touch of a button
I am silenced.
Havoc out of sight;
Life goes on.

The Man on a Mission
Scours the East of the continent.
He sees the ravages on humanity
In its full glare,
Mangled bodies,
Riddled with bullets,
Roving children,
Yelling for mercy.
He clams up,
The well of tears run dry.
Unimaginable images of horror
Reel around in his head,
Sounds of terror,
Reverberate in his ears.

The Man on a Mission
Goes to work
Not knowing what
each day will bring,
yet he carries on
in the face of adversity.
The sounds have become a part of him.
I pray some day
All this will come to an end,
So The Man on a Mission
Can be sound asleep.
This poem aims to depict the lasting horrific effects of war on the Media personnel.  I wrote this as a tribute to the main character Abdul Rahman Ramadhan featured in a documentary called ‘The Sound Man’ by Chip Duncan.
Doing the right thing by everyone
Does not guarantee that everyone
Will do right by you.

The thorns will be scattered in your path,
They will *****,
They will scratch,
They will draw blood,
There will be tears,

But carry on you must.
At the high tide,
The sea cradled us blind,
Nurtured our egos,
Gilded the guilt of our ills,
Caressed the conscience in our hearts.

At the low tide,
The sea left the skeleton
Of our tangled actions ashore,
Our guilt engraved on the pebbles,
Our conscience straggly with contrition.

We wonder and ponder,
Upon our actions
Of the past.
Tis a heavy price
To pay for our sweet tooth.
Oh Lord
What have we done.

— The End —