"afrika" poems
Sons of the soil.
Daughters of the soil.
Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage.
Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege.
You are Africa, Africa is you.
A nation so diverse and true.
A real rainbow nation.
Deeply rooted in our tradition.
Nna ke mo Tswana, ebile ke motlotlo ka bo Tswana bame.
Nna ke mo Pedi, ebile ka ikgantsha ka go nna mo Pedi.
Mna ndi ngum Xhosa, ubona nje, ndiyazi dla ngo buXhosa bam.
Mina ngi ngum Zulu qobo, futhi ngiyazi qhenya.
On this day, remember who you are.
On this day, commemorate who you are.
Take pride in your true identity.
Let there be peace and serenity.
In South Africa our land.
Together may we all stand.
Le ga ole moTswana wa Afrika.
Noba ungu m'Xhosa wase Afrika.
Le ha ole mo Sotho wa Afrika Borwa.
Are rataneng. Masi thandaneni.
On this day, speak your mother tounge.
On this day, sing your clan song.
A moTswana eme a kgibe.
UmXhosa maka phakame axhentse.
UmZulu maka sukume agide.
A moPedi a emelle bine.
Sons of the soil.
Daughters of the soil.
Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage.
Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 5:57 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
FROM MOZAMBIQUE TO SOUTH AFRICA AND THE STRUGGLE IN BETWEEN
from Mozambique to the belly of the queen mother Afrika,
we were born soldiers, strangled from the arms of our mothers,
strangers to our engraved fathers in their early graves,
starve and strive in the command of our commanders,climb
and fall hills of many mountains, with countless bodies i carried
in my arms, moved from one camp to another, with blood of my
comrades fled in the river, as crocodiles tumble and roles with
them, they scream and cried while we crossed the Crocodile River.
a refuge toe to giant Afrika our queen mother, this has become
our home too, regardless of the chaos we've rendered. i know no
memories but nightmare in the surface of Mozambique, they see the beauty of its minerals and crops, the tremendous sea and scattered
informal settlement for farming left by my people to south
Africa, but in true essence i see graves, grenades, and guns
buried in the bodies of my comrades from Mozambique to
south Africa and the struggle in between
Dec 10, 2018
Dec 10, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
Die môre groet jou met ń nat soen
En ontplooi haar goue gloed
Oor jou fynbos en Olifants-oor
Die wind ween oor die rykdom
Wat jy deur jare van sweet en bloed, vir jouself terug geëis het
, maar streel deur jou grashalms
Met die harmonie van hoop wat deur jou are pols...
Pols, wanneer 4x4 en ossewa spoor oorkruis!
Hier timmer jy aan my
- lê die hoeksteen van ń graniet gebou
Ek sal strewe om jou te eer.
Suid-Afrika , ń ode aan jou.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:06 PM UTC
Revival of a revolutionary spirit
What I represent?
The Motherland of wisdom
BLACK genesis
Check the pyramids
My heredity IS
God-man manifest in the physical,
And astral and mental
Been mastered every plane of existence
Whole civilizations who understood the Science of Living
Tens of thousands of years before any 'westernized thinking'
An enlightened people
Way before colonialism
How you gon bring democracy (now capitalism in disguise),
To Afrika where it was invented?
And dress ya pawns as 'appointed' leaders
Devil oppressors
Erased our culture, history, and identity
Spiritual genocide by 'Willie Lynching'
Karmically tied to these modern times
I gotz to watch my temper
Lost ONE,
Who found refuge in the Buddha to be most skillful
But what happened to my people?
I just wona know
My whole life,
I was ashamed of being BLACK and didn't know it
Guess it was sub-compartmental
But through practice with experience
Of accumulated virtue
I shed dem old ethers
And broke me down
Psychological brick by brick and rebuilt me
Na I'm ready for war
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 5:00 PM UTC
Dearest Mother
I love you so much, so deep.
Why do your Children make you weep?
You adopted me, with a broken past
Filled with hateful ideals.
Thus, saving my heart.
Although Im not your aesthetic child,
I love you more than those,
Who claim your side.
My bloodline, an embarrasment, they **** your body.
They steal from you, a detestable history.
Engraved on the future, a history past.
Of foreign Politics, your new prison Mom.
And why do your children embrace this lie?
Why are they standing idly by,
While you wither and die?
For fame?
For Fortune?
For Self..
For GREED...
This is NOT your teachings!
"UBUNTU" is...
You taught me to Love beyond the colour of skin.
And to love profoundly, my Rainbow Kin.
Your Spirit, dear Mother, I will defend till Death.
Help me return your babies
back to your breast.
Forgive my Ancestors, they have no clue what they did.
Their greed, their hate, their fear, killed your Kid.
Forgive your Children,
My brothers and sisters.
For their hearts are violent and full of blisters.
And Mom, I know this is not your way.
You show love and respect, the opposite of pain...
Though I may not be biologically yours,
You blessed me in your love,
Showed me that with you, there are no borders.
My Mother I love you. Im sorry for what they do.
Though Im not your birth child,
I know you love me too..
so WAKE UP my Sister
WAKE UP my brother.
Stand up with me.
Defend our Mother.
She is bruised and hurt,
Cant you hear her cries?
Because Her children are greedy,
And dont care if She dies.
Our "Leaders" **** Her out
For personal gain.
She is NOT for sale!
I wont play that game.
So Mom, I love you.
I cry because of what they do.
They claim your being,
They claim they own YOU!
But you cant be owned, or sold by any,
Because you are loved,
By oh so many..
Again I pledge my Love to you.
Im not alone, many of your Kids are good.
They embrace your teachings.
They keep your ways.
To live life in your Tradition,
And not in shame.
I love you too, my sister, my brother.
In Truth and Respect, another gift from our Mother.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 4:38 AM UTC
Tonight the Robin flew.
Left the land of once was .
Now in eternal peace.
Walked into the light.
Flown legitimately.
Robin left the planet.
Set Mandela free!
And into the light he steps.
From non-religious English girl ..Goodnight sweet sleep and rest in eternal peace.
Slaap goed vader van Afrika-lande
(c) Livvi Kent!5/12/2013
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 5:37 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
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 lay in your arms on a
Vacant bed of Poppies
Watching a midnight blue sky
As ancient ferns opened curtains wide
Cathedral upon cathedral
Passed before our vision
Each belled more splendid than the next
Slave doors were but half opened
We saw arches being lifted
Marx and Brecht nodding in agreement
We turned and rested in "I AM"
The poppies faded
Their red turning to blood
Black centres becoming
AFRIKA !
Copyright © Ghairo Daniels 2017
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 3:01 AM UTC
Wanna know where she got the scars from? The answer is YOU...
See, just because she's good at keeping secrets doesn't mean everything that happened in the past doesn't exist.
And just like YOU, I'm also disappointed at Her for sleeping with the whole Nigerian soccer team. And that dress she had on lastnight, matches the colour of my bed sheets...
And the reason I keep calling Her a ***** is to remind YOU that Afrika is surrounded by a Beach.
But let me stop wasting my breath because the word "NO" doesn't seem to make You stop... And the only time I ever heard Her beg is when she was begging somebody to get ontop of Her body...
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 5:06 PM 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
The big
Giant serpent
Is still chocking Africa
To a slow
But imminent death
It can not be denied
We are not progressing,
Giant snakes
Take life from us
Our politicians do nothing
But telling lies
Saying
"We are all good"
As if Africa is ever free,
They are being used
As shields
That distort the true events,
We can not be free
Unless we see
The binding snake,
Afrika wake up
Taetso Jojo.
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 4:50 PM UTC
"Nou wie is jy?"
"Ouma, my naam is Siyasanga,
Ek is jou dogter Lalie se seun"
"My Lalie, sy wat in Suid Afrika bly?"
"Ja ouma, ek het vir ouma kom keur"
I watch on as the spark of recognition lights up her eyes
Happiness flowers through the creases on her face like fresh rain through a Namib riverbed
Her brow furrows as if trying to keep this revelation prisoner
The Sun continues its long journey across the sky
Her brow relaxes, and. . . . .
"Hello virtel my, my kind,
Wie is jy?"
"My naam is Siyasanga Ouma,
Ek is ouma se klien kind.
My ma se naam is Lalie"
"Lalie, sy is my dogter wat in Suid Afrika bly"
"Dis reg ouma, ek het vir ouma kom keur"
The spark returns
The fresh rain flows
The love warms my soul as we embrace
The Sun once more takes flight
Taking respite from the heat
I watch as she shuffles and shimmies and shuffles once more down the corridor
To the foot of the bare bed I've made my haven
Words like spun silk spill from her lips as she asks
"May I sit here my child?
"Ja my ouma, ouma hoef nie vra nie"
She shuffles and shimmies and sits down to read
What a beautiful life affair she has with words,
Even those from a magazine,
Whose pages danced that day at her touch
A letter whose ink for 2 decades laid dry
The name of the man she loved preserved in his evergreen book
Both retrieved from the vault that was her purse
Oh how she loved those words, and they loved her
She turns her head to look at me
With that spark in her eye
"Jy is my Lalie se seun"
I smile, my face awash with fresh rain
"Ja ouma, ek het vir ouma kom kuier"
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 5:52 AM UTC
In die hart van Afrika se suidegrond,
Styg ’n taal, sterk en bond.
Diep in son en sand,
Stemme dra oor hierdie land.
Afrikaans, die taal van hart en kin,
Gevleg met stories van waar ons was en bin.
Van boereveld tot stad se straat,
Sy ritme sterk, sy klank hard.
Woorde wat van berge hoog weerklink,
Stories oud, na die hemel gesink.
Met elke “sê,” ’n belofte gegee,
Van erfenis wat nooit sal verdwyn.
Ons taal sing van lag, van trane en vrees,
Van stryde gewen en drome geheg.
Al verander die tyd, al rol die gety,
Afrikaans bly staan, sterk en vry.
So hef jou stem, laat dit luid wees,
’n Lied van trots, ’n taal om te lees.
Want in elke frase, elke woord en rym,
Dra ons ons Afrikaans, deur elke tyd.
Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 1:54 PM UTC
Nu gør du det igen
Bagatelliserer mine problemer
Noget må du have misforstået -
jeg prøver altså ikke at konkurrere
om hvem der har det sværest
Jeg føler mig lille, meget erkendeligt
Og bare fordi andre måske føler sig mindre
bliver det ikke til noget ubetydeligt
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
Here comes Rommel
And his Afrika Corps
Capturing Brits
At half past four
By Mid April
He had driven the British back
His Africa Corps were on the attack
He prepared to besiege Tobruk
The Luftwaffe were called to drop bombs
My how the ground shook!
But his success did not last
Monty struck hard and fast!
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
Old as creation. THE CRADLE.
This is Africa.
Musky and dank.THE GRAVE.
This is Afrika.
Vast as eternity.THE ECHO.
Echo.
This is Africa.
Verdant and green.
All points between.
STARVATION.Rampant.
This is Africa.
Machete vicious.Zebra and Gazelle.Heaven walks into hell.
Afrika as well
FREE UNTAMED.
And T.I.A
This
Is
Afrika.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
I really talked at large before
twenty six stolen years were actually stolen,
shots in my mind,
A hero’s wound gunned down
and I captured every scene
Brilliant! If you never ask me.
But who can write of give and take if
timepiece took what was given,
Must not all themes at last be puked up in lineage
Like a template of What is and what will never hold fairness
What should occur and what not to occupy our vacant heads
While we Recite recycled absent memories
Aren't we all clones of different races
Or a moving image of looped events ?
A "Book of Good News" declared we should still hope
Till Ama-Afrika conquer what will never be;
Even if it does exist!
But who is there to argue such with a right mind,
and pretend not to see the absolute lie
given The complexion of politics is stolen but never be sold
And is our logic to outweigh
every becoming that will never be,
Are we Addicts of false orders ?
How could fantasy not imagine
while the engineering of fate still watch
Every Second with a third reference
For those new years Misfortune have never defined,
Only in True logic or on the fingertip of a hardworking
that I came to learn :
Getting ourselves out of our ways will get our means out of despair.
The Present Past and the Future is a present,
Surprise!
Time Mastered to interfere with our give and never-take
Is this A dialogue between fear and failure ?
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 5:08 AM UTC
Azania, malibuye izwe lwethu.
Mayibuye iAfrika, izwe lwethu
Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?
We breathe poverty.
27 years into liberty.
Yet, not much has changed.
The black man remains estranged.
No land, no wealth.
No access to health.
The black man is educated and unemployed.
His voice is meaningless and void.
The black man is a criminal.
Not a trustworthy individual.
Azania. Libuya nini izwe lwethu?
Ibuya nini iAfrika yethu?
Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?
Where is the black child's fortune?
When does he get to sing a happy tune?
When does he move out of the small shack?
When does he get his ancestors' land back?
No one will hire him, he doesn't own a car.
He lives too far.
He's below the par.
Where he's from, there's no tar.
His shoes pick up clouds of dust.
Victim to a system so unjust.
Azania. Libuya nini izwe lwethu?
Ibuya nini iAfrika yethu?
Africa, where have you gone?
Africa, what happened to you?
Our mothers know nothing but pain.
They wipe kitchens spotless, all in vain.
Our fathers toil in the gardens.
Prayers have become burdens.
Government officials care for nothing but their pockets.
While we cry tears filling buckets.
Is this the Africa we fought for?
Is this the freedom we fought for?
Africa is singing a burning weep.
Her sorrows run deep.
She is asking, "what about my children?"
"What will become of them?"
She can't bear to see it.
Unite Africa with her children.
She longs to see them prosper.
Africa loves her children.
They don't deserve to suffer any longer.
From the hands of the ruthless ruler.
They are her pride and joy.
She wants to see them enjoy,
Her rich soil.
Profit from her natural oil.
Her pure silver.
Her dazzling diamonds.
Her excellent copper.
Her soft gold.
Abantwana base Afrika mabaphile.
Inhlupheko yase Afrika mayiphele.
iAfrika mayibuye.
Mayibuye iAfrika.
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 11:26 PM UTC