"africans" poems
So many of us sit, think and still
wonder,
But have we ever gave ourselves the chance to ask?
Well no!
We just rejoice and find oursleves
floating on cloud nine because
"it is just another public holiday"
So many of us have cherished this day,
as a day of drinking, parting
and being in the family way.
Which "Us" am i refering to?
Well it is the youth of South Africa,
That can only sing "Freedom is coming tomorrow" very well
without knowing the significance
of that freedom
and what it took for this freedom
to come
well let me take you back to the
hands of time.
In June 16, 1976
the mongoloid youth of South Africa
marched down the streets of Soweto for this freedom we have today.
BLOOD SHADE,
SCREAMS,
EXPLOIDING SOUNDS
and the cries of faces without races
filled the streets of Soweto.
Parents feared for the lives of their children,
but who knew that adolescents
could be so brave?
They stood together in unity,
the same unity we lack today.
Fought for what was right and that came with their African roots,
which we nolonger honour today,
they fought against the usage af
Afrikaans as the main language of communication at schools.
And look where it left us today.
We have the Right to choice
and the Freedom of association.
And not forgeting that,
they left us with the courage to say "WE ARE PROUDLY SOUTH AFRICANS"
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
*I am an African
My skin is black
My hair is black
I am black
I take pride in my blackness
For my colour is not a badge
Of shame, but an identity,
Yes black is my identify
Africa is my identity
I am the son of the black soil,
A soil rich in history
And blessed with diverse cultures
Each unique in their own way,
I am an African
Africa a nation of the oppressed
But slowly rising to conquer
And claim what is theirs
From the oppressors,
Yes the sleeping sons of Jacob
Are rising, slowly realising
Their potential as nation ,
Yes my fellow Africans are rising
The black nation is on its knees
I'm a proud african,
Africa my roots
Africa my identity
Africa my ancestral land
Africa my home
Africa is who i am
I am African
Copyrights.
Taetso jojo*
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
melanin molasses, the sweetest courtship attracts the ones who have never glittered
white bullets love to kiss black skin
black on black crucificton, a gospel orchestrated by the higher powers
****** puddles lay with the concrete during the darkest hours
night bullets play white doves during the matrimony of the bottom barrels life and its fast stint.
honeymoon candles lit by the masters matches, africans seek this artificial light in times where heavens white lights could greet them with a smile and roses that are wilted.
- t.m
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
I have always liked,
Defiant Africans,
Nelson, Patrice, Kenyatta,
Martin Luther King,
Groovy black men,
******* with attitude,
But they intimidate me,
Black men.
Freedom fighters,
Bar room brawlers,
And I rise from sleep,
Sheened in sweat,
Running away,
Scribbling my number,
On scraps of paper,
On foreheads and trousers,
On outstretched palms,
And I’m breathing heavily,
Feeling stained,
Because,
That one there,
The white man in Navy uniform,
With hair on his *****
I know him,
-conquistador-
He smells of garlic and grease,
And my black friends call me,
****** ***** *****
Will he take the lion tooth offered,
Will he make the tribal dance?
-I can teach him to love the earth,
Teach him to plant his feet in, deep-
I ********** from sleep, supported
By thick, colonial, muscle.
I am forging steel,
Industrial iron,
I am engineering a white lover
Beneath the sheets, whilst
Apologising to freedom fighters,
Who call me ****** ***** *****
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 4:55 PM UTC
Coming from unknown shores, arrived these Western boats,
with disastrous as well as deceitful tactics they took our gold,
jump to the modern era, they are the ones' promoting ***
they bare minimum death rates due to *** and Aids,
while African's lives in bitter ruins as the notion of "safe *** seems perplex.
*** promotion misconstrued as our kids continue ****** the old,
Such consequences were never told,
when they sold us back our own gold.
Systematical control is now the definer of societies
Africans not taught of Qamatha but tested on Socrates,
African souls enticed into materialism by paper and cheese,
while Western supremacists economically ****** African Identities.
African child, fight back please!
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
Lost is the African pride
Gone are those who could ride the tide
Left are those who drown beneath the wave
Prone to dehumanization because of greed
I see burning buildings
Mutilated bodies
Escalating violence
And social unrest
Lost is the Spirit of Ubuntu
Left is a society deprived of its integrity
Selfishness and poverty is at the core of our society
Is the real Africa lost to antiquity?
Crime is rife as people strive for a decent life.
A decent life earned through decadence
Should we stone foreigners because the government is failing to provide employment?
Or should we burn down buildings so that our voices can be heard?
I am ashamed of the profanity we breed
It’s a calamity for us to be xenophobic
It’s a taboo for us to call Africans foreigners in their motherland.
It’s not who they are.
It’s not who we are
It’s not who you are
It’s not who I am
Together we are the Africa that has survived slave trade
The Africa that has survived apartheid
The Africa that has survived colonization
The Africa that is surviving westernization
We don’t fight for employment
We create employment
We don’t breed resentment
We translate sentiments
Let us evoke the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s behave like men not animals
Let us ignite the Spirit of Ubuntu
And let’s stand like men immortal
The Spirit of Ubuntu is what separates us from animals
Terrorism shouldn’t exist in Africa
It’s a disgrace for us to be unethical
Xenophobia shouldn’t be heard in Africa
Animosity is not our portion
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:28 AM UTC
Have you heard of the
gardens clandestines grow?
The neighbors have, although
until today the gardens were usual, not a
pastime no one would seriously guess.
The flowers are conceptual homonyms
bordered by Boxwood africans
no breadwinning cardinal would bless
with its roost.
Grass beneath a golden ninebark
is slightly depressed where some pistol was.
For the past few years the neighbors have wondered daily What the hell is it this guy does?
What, with him always vaguely mumbling "...lots of business trips." It's dark
now, blood spatter coagulates on the picket fence.
Four tire streaks on the road,
the responding policemen kept it hushed, speaking in code
to disembodied voices on a radio. Not much more than a glance
and shrug at the neighbors' concerned inquiries.
One consensus formed: he was deep
in consequences from promises he couldn't keep.
This was speculative, of course.
The palm trees
rustled above their heads. "Maybe he was a clandestine,"
one of the neighbors remarked
as another dismissively barked,
"Ridiculous! He kept a garden!"
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
A walk in Africa,
Africa for Africans,
A walk down town Africa,
Meeting an African,
A troubled and unsettled African,
A troubled African in Africa,
Africa in Africa,
An African Diaspora,
An African imprisoned,
At home and away,
A pure African,
From the Africa of poor Maputo,
A pure African,
From the Africa of poor Zimbabwe,
Ghana, Nigeria, Tanzania,
Somalia, Ethiopia, Congo,
A poor African,
From the pure Africa of elsewhere,
An unfree African in a free Africa,
Africa for Africans,
Africans yesterday,
Africans today,
And Africans tomorrow,
The Africa of South Africa.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 5:04 AM UTC
“but if you have to move your best friend’s body…
…you’re on your own.”
Your best friend dies
Before your eyes
Somehow stays alive
Then what?
***** salt-licked hair
Brittle and frayed by medicine
World’s unfathomable weight
Trembling beneath the Wisdom Tree
Her whole being crumples (arrugar)
But her life-force remains intact
Body bone
Running on spirit reserves
Why is that?
She stands and cries
Staring into ether
I sit
Wringing my hands
Her tears strike the ground
In tree-gecko unison
'''
Pacific parasite super-strains
Blood coated throat
The full range of abuse’s color on all fronts
for decades
Attempted assaults, ****
Dengue
Giant Centipede venom to the skull
But worst of all
Rootlessness and fear
the monkey on her back
had a monkey on its back
and was smoking a cigarette
'''
Have you ever seen someone
Completely broken?
Corpsic shell of a woman
Gaunt, wan in the tropics
“Don’t put your trust in walls…
…walls will only crush you when they fall”
Brick-bludgeoned body
The shrapnel lay like
Sun scorched
Novice-woven baskets
At her feet
But now she can see
And breath
Real breath
'''
Genocide’s a ***** yes.
Africans seem fatalistic to Americans
Baby boy body, Grandpa human- shield
“They’re your babies”
Short-lived, yes
But now they have peace
Witnesses still weave the jungle
What do you do with a friend who’s
Seen real atrocity? Evil?
'''
I’m learning.
Prayer is power
Will transcends the concrete (Bunkle, too.)
She serves realness only
Her seeking hands unweave the sacred
Time is of no luxury right now
Serve people through love
and Grace awaits discovery
'''
I’ve never carried a bleeding body.
I needn’t “fear the terror by night,
Nor the arrow by day”
But I saw someone perish
And resurrect
What a gift
What a gift
Gubaadagem, Tinmad.
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:45 PM UTC
Maybe people did not realize what they had done.
The ****** of the people and their hope.
Africans are no different, so why were they treated as such?
It's better now! Tables with no signs that say,
"White Only."
Benches for everyone to use. One drinking fountain instead of two:
One on each side of the building.
One in the same!
And college, striving for a better future
Is an option.
Now, was that so hard?
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
They began without notice, in the city of Mombasa
By the Al shabab shooting baby Osinya in the head,
Killed the mother, leaving a slug stuck in Osinya’s head
Killing and mauling many others macabrously,
Killing for no other reason, but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
They had initially lynched the West Gate Mall
In Nairobi, killing the aged and seasoned darling
Of African poetry and true fountain of peace
The dearest Kofi Awonor, in full watch of his son,
Confirming a trail of the ghastly curse of fate and death
That totted him arduously from his home in the west
Of the tropical gulag that makes the land of Africa
From where the terror maestro ; Boko haram reign scot free
Mayheming, Killing, ****** and kidnapping harmless virgins
Killing For no other reason but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
They have now killed fifty peasants in Mpeketon town,
****** them in circles to puncture their virginity
and brutally kidnapping those that are not *****
Using the AK 47 and the Ak 74 to shoot and ****
Without reason nor course but failure of mind
Botched down by authenticity of holy diversity
Heavenly packaged in God’s idea of tribe,
Uhm! An African man with a gun is a brute of brutes,
Giving an African a gun is simple mess of the world
In to helter-skelter poise tilting peace higgledy-piggledy,
Killing one another like animals premised by Charles Darwin
As overtly seen in the warring Congo and CAR,
Where Africans **** one another in a stupid dint,
To ape Rwanda or no! To outshine the Jewish Massacre
In the Ammonium chambers of fuehrer Adolf ******
This stupid Africans baser than wild beasts,
Who told you that your greatness will come
from killing your neighbours; the fellow peasants?
These African men are the modern homoguerrillus,
Which one call cheap war making man
They and **** ! **** **** **** **** **** ****
For no other reason but faith and tribe,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
Gunshots of the gunmen in Africa are not
A song of the caged bird, no whatsoever,
They are cowardly maneuvers of the weak
As the weak and cowards rarely forgive,
They arm themselves to the teeth
With deadly weapons from Russia or wherever
Only to shoot and **** the old and malnourished
Peasant women, killing the likes of baby Osinya
Shooting a suckling baby to prove your heroism,
These African men are really a Whiteman’s burden,
They **** their fellows from cockcrow to chick roost
For no other reason but tribe and faith,
Their victims confess different religion and ethnicity.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 9:45 AM UTC
In 2007, I wrote my first poem.
Life 1
It held two questions.
Questions I have yet to have a answer for.
I'll date it.
I'll quote it.
On December, 14th 2010,
I ask it again.
"Why is there so many racist?"
"What did that race ever do to you?"
I never knew how to feel,
When I watched Roots or Schlinders List.
Until I meet them face to face.
The racist of course
Spewing the racist words they worshiped.
****** and Monkey, I was called.
With black skin and african qualities,
Will earn you those titles.
In my head I wonder;
Should I hate whites because of the KKK?
Should I hate Germans because of the Nazis?
Should I hate Russians because of Stalin?
Should I hate Muslims because of Osama?
Should I hate my fellow Africans because of the corruption that rips Africa apart?
These questions rattle my head.
So once again I ask.
"Why is there so many racist?"
"What did that race ever do to you?"
Quoted.
Signed.
Dated.
Randy Wiafe
December, 14 2010.
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 4:28 AM UTC
Pride of the world, like a phoenix I rise
towering over darkness and hatred
scarred though our hearts be, but
un-cowed, unfurls my spirit, leading
aspirations to the skies and beyond.
We are Americans and Europeans
and Africans and Asians, divided
in religion and race, but here we meet
as one world, here we will bridge
heaven and earth and hew a passage
through boulders of bigotry into
the lands of brotherhood and peace.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
They are silent and beautiful,
gorgeous in in the white halo,
cemented in a beautiful terrazzo,
baring the names of fallen soldiers,
the European soldiers that fell in Wars;
second and first and the heinous silent wars,
i hope this is why they have a proverb; white sepulchre,
only baring the white dead, only chiefs but no dead Indian.
Common wealth graveyards are all over in Africa,
in India , panama , Latin America and europe,
the active fronts in which the allies fought ******
they are beautifully placed in silently posh areas,
in langata when in Nairobi, in Mbaraki when in Mombasa,
in Matisi when in Kenya, In Namusungui when in Lodwar,
They bear horizontal silence with white names engraved
on their beautiful face shouting the glory of European empires,
which provoked the evil sense in the heart of the king's horseman
in Kenya, in the city of Nairobi, to steal the graveyard lands,
he made them his urban home with an uppish courtyard,
for him the dead white neighbours are better than in-corruption.
I walk around the commonwealth graveyards,
in the all quarters of erstwhile British empire,
looking for the names of African soldiers ,
who died in thousands fighting for the queen
the royal bloodied woman of England;Elizabeth,
Looking for the sons of Ethiopia who stood with
the second duce Benito son of Mussolini,
fighting for Hitler,for Shintos in the European war,
i have seen no name of any African,
I have not seen Wandabwa wa masibo,
who was conscripted into the first world war,
Along with his father Biket wa Khayongo,
Biket back after seven years in 1918,
carrying Wandabwa's Belt,
Wandabwa died in the field,
Where was he buried, he is nowhere
Not anywhere among the soldiers in cemeteries,
I have not seen Nasong'o wa Khayongo,
who was conscripted in 1940,
to fight against ******
he was conscripted on his nuptial evening,
even before he had had the first ***
with his new wife, he went away crying,
he never came back, his name is nowhere in the graves
the commonwealth graves that bare names of the fallen,
Fallen soldiers, but they all bare white names in the black world.
you come to Africa, Kenya, Nigeria, Malagasy,Egypt,
whatever the geographies of Africa, and you keep keen,
you hear someone is called Mr. Keya, or Madam Keya,
or you come to Bungoma county of Kenya,
you meet a man that is of the circumcision age group,
Known as Bakikwameti Keya, Bakinyikewi Musolini,
Keya is subverted sound for Kings african rivals; KAR
the African sound for KAR is Keya,
in reference to mass conscription of Africans
into the KAR, to fight ******
A child born during that time is Keya,
A man circumcised during the time
is in the age group of Keya,
A simple lesson in regard to our people,
taken away to fight the colonial power
and left to died and rot away in the bush
with a simple courtesy for ceremonial burial,
that come along with the death of soldiers,
who passed away in the battle field.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
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
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 10:33 PM UTC
On occasion,
I dream about drowning at least once a week
And when I drown
I always expect to choke under the pressure of the ocean
That the salt stings my eyes shut
But I am always surprised at how easily my body sinks
And how buoyant it can be under water
And it makes me think of all the slaves
Who threw themselves overboard
How they thought themselves fish before slave
Did they grow gills?
Were they grateful for the mercy of erosion
Under salt instead of whips
Did they backs bend like dolphins do?
Did they build an underwater city untouched
By brutal hands
Do they know, that I see them sometimes
The ancestors who chose water over land
And they are not bone and marrow stacked
At the bottom of the ocean
They are not corpses who chose the easy way out
I see them
They have built an underwater world from their bare hands
They laugh and bubbles exit out their mouths
Even now my family would not mourn my departure
If I were to be called by the waves
For the water has a language that some
Of us have an ear for
It is not the place of mortals to tear up
When one of us africans drown
Because to sink is to find new life
Is to be in the hands of those who control their own destiny
I know them, the water people
They call me during the night
And i don't fight anymore
I laugh with them, and live
And wake angry that oxygen can suffocate me
That I suddenly become flailing fish
That my home is not this land
That I find comfort in ocean floor
That is where my ancestors speak to me
Console me
Teach me the ways of spiritual healer
At the bottom of the sea
And it is not a dream although I wake from it
It is a reality that is bestowed upon
The xhosa shamans from birth
The western world does not have a reality like that
So they will argue it does not exist
They will be quick to diagnose my mental health
Call the act of reuniting with my own
An episode, a stress indicator
A sleeping pill prescription
These are the same people who believe in
Three day resurrection for death
But cannot fathom an african never dying
And we don’t die
We do not die.
There is life for us elsewhere.
And when we are ready
The waves will welcome us home.
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
Poverty is a curse
A plague to be avoided
Work smart, lest you be poor
You too can cross the line
That very thin line
That separates the poor and the rich
Just take steps of faith
And be intentional
Poverty robs you of your ego
Makes you less of a human
But are people really poor
I guess not, just lazy I think
If you can get your hand *****
You will never lack what to eat
Run from poverty, faster than Usain Bolt
Do nothing and poverty looms
I just hate the coffee called poverty
How can I rent my wife to tourists?
Who does this for Pete's sake
This must be a spell
Is it a marriage with benefits?
Please help me ask these East Africans
How do you rent your wife to tourists?
That women have local and foreign husband!
Do we need to be re-colonised?
Again I say "Tufiakwa"
I don't care your tribe or race
Poverty is a universal plague
And winning starts with the right attitude
If truly you can think enough
That which you have, is just enough
Together, let's kick out poverty
It begins with you...
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 5:38 AM UTC
I am not a *****
Labelled by the past racist ****
I'm not black
That is a color and mostly
Associated with magic and evil
I am not a *****
***** meaning black in Spanish
Applying to the same
As the three lines above
I am not not African American
I have never seen nor been to Africa
Africans don't claim us
Nor do they reap like us
They had there time in slavery
But never like us so called Blacks
Along with the Indians and Mexicans
So i ve thoroughly researched
And my roots trace back
To being a descendant of kings and queens
A Hebrew
Ya see Hollywood knows the truth
It is a secret that's long needing
To be unsealed
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
these tears drown me
as i stare at the screen.
the hearts of young Africans
still suffering.
they drown me into a harbor of guilt
be careful don't let those tears spill.
see we only care
when were forced to be aware
eyes stare st the screen.
*** does this mean.
hide yourself.
**** a gun.
living life this way.
fathers telling the world your not his sun.
girl you over here drowning,
creating rivers and streams.
claiming you know what being black means.
until the son goes down and you hear
about all these Black Men
Red Districting.
now you joining a fight
that barely has a side.
with way more history
involving you nor i.
whatever you say this is my life.
my choice, my party.
i can sit here and cry.
and deny, deny, deny.
while our brothers are being killed.
by ourselves more than them.
they don't view us as equal
and im not talking about them.
so girl play your part.
speak your mind
so that it looks like you fought.
for our brothers and sisters
who can no longer fight for themselves.
because our black people
tied their hands behind their back,
as they fell into wells.
of despair.
miseducation.
because in this world
as a gay
black man.
your just a beast with no nation.
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 11:07 PM UTC
I am an African,
Just like you are,
Here I am in Africa,
From Africa,
I may speak,
Not your African language,
But a cataclysmic African,
Who speaks my African language,
I am.
An inferior African,
You may as you do,
Regard me,
But still,
African I am,
African I cry,
African I laugh,
African I sing,
African I live.
You have made me feel ashamed,
To be in this part of Africa,
But never,
Will you make me feel ashamed,
To be African,
Whatever derogatory labels,
You may stick on me,
No matter how unAfrican,
Kwerekwere, Grigamba or whatever,
But still,
I will be an African,
Even a much better one.
African,
Like my father,
His fore fathers,
And their forefathers,
African,
Just like I was yesterday,
African,
Just like I am now,
African,
That is what I will always be,
And African,
Forever.
According to the author, we are all foreigners in any country on this earth, more like tenants. No one has any claim to any portion of this earth for it belongs to God. The barbaric, self-centered and intolerant demeanor we have recently witnessed in South Africa tells the story of mindless teaks on a dog that are claiming to own the dog and solidifies the myth that Africa is a dark continent and Africans are still stuck in the animal kingdom. How do we dispute what is becoming more of a fact that “you can take Africans from the bush but you can never take the bush out of Africans”. Fellow South Africans (the perpetrators), you have proved to be more disgusting than ***** and the most befitting place for you is the sewage dump that is far away from Africa. If there was another Africa that is not this Africa, I would have done the obvious and most logical thing – to completely disassociate my dignified African self from the brainless, destructive, inhuman thugs that you are. Today, I am an African who is dead ashamed to be African!
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
They hailed
and prostrated on the dust
as the monstrous jeeps passed.
Chants of praises
in loud native phrases
all for one man with deep pockets.
White man would look and say,
" Africans "
Black man would look, smile
and shake his head.
We say Nigeria is distressed
We say there is no money
We say all our leaders should face the firing squad
We say alot of things.
Churches are increasing,
Spiritual leaders are prophesizing,
Intellectuals are holding conferences,
Analylists are investigating,
Ministers are budjeting
and yet nothing is changed.
Still that black man on
the presidential seat wants
a second term.
Another term of nothingness.
I know everyone deserves
a second chance,
but ruling Nigeria
isnt a dice game.
We are in a state of nature
where every man is a danger
to the next.
Even body parts can not be guaranteed
to remain in one piece,
even in death
because of these ritual get-rich quick individuals.
Just like a mathematical equation,
Nigeria's solution
is " no solution ".
But, because there is no answer
doesnt mean it can not be solved at all.
I would not be the first to write about Nigeria
nor will i be the last,
but let history record
that at least i verbally cared.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
With a Jewish religion and a German Queen,
Who has a clue where the Brits have been?
Mum’s clan were Huguenots,
Dad’s maybe Welsh.
Lots of Africans in our football teams.
Keep out those immigrants many do say,
Even those whose parents came from Bombay.
We’ve lots of patriots from Pakistan:
The younger generation, Brits to a man.
But some are Radicals I hear you say,
We should be sending them on their way,
Back to Asia where they belong,
To the tunes of a UKIP song.
So what is “British” we must ask,
For this is not an easy task.
Justice and Democracy I hear you shout,
Tiny islands with some clout.
Shakespeare, Beatles, Rugby Lions,
Churchill clapping foes in irons.
Let’s be glad that we are free
And settle down to a cuppa tea.
Paul Butters
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 5:47 AM UTC
There's no sophistication in the raw life of men
the ****** birthing pain of entering our den
enduring all emotions and ******* turbulence
there's no sophistication in War rememberance
There's no sophistication in being up the junction
innocently learning basic ****** function
the youthful years pretending none of it exists
the sophisticated people with whom we pit our wits
There's no sophistication in the finality of death
the worn out decrepit bodies of the elderly in debt
wasted starving africans and third world poverty
there's no sophistication in no liberty or money
Do why do we pretend that all is hunky dory
sophisticated society is a glory story?
can't we be honest, and support our neighbour
or are we too sophisticated for human behaviour
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
On the African savannah,
The mission brief had been simple.
Go in and find a Warthog.
The Americans had gone in and nuked the place,
Then claimed there had been none to begin with.
The Israelis against strong,
Local advice,
Had sent in Mossad,
Undercover.
-why go in, looking like food,
the lions had a field day-
The Africans, however,
Had not reported by nightfall,
So at daybreak a search party was launched.
They found three Kenyans surrounding a giraffe,
Spread-eagled securely to an Acacia tree.
The Sergeant-at-arms was taking notes,
Whilst his Officers flogged,
The poor thing screaming,
“Confess you’re a Warthog, confess!”
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 2:42 AM UTC
nothing
wrong
with
Africans
worshiping
the sun
and
the
Native Americans
worshiping
the
Great Grand Father Sky
and
respecting
Mother Earth
unfortunately
the
Europeans
conquered
the
new world
through
violence
deception
savagery
lies
deceit
****
******
colonization
Christianity
slavery
apartheid
genocide
while
the
Europeans
took land
and
resources from
other nations
enriching themselves
and
building
their nations
considered
themselves
superior
to People of Color
and
Indigenous People
throughout
the world
and
the world
would not be
civilized
without
their
intervention
and
the
benevolent actions of
europeans
but
we know
that
it's
all about
power and wealth
that
be
the
guiding light of
good and evil
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC