"burundi" poems
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry
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Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry
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Micronesia, Federated States is in need of hellopoetry
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Yemen needs hellopoetry
Zambia needs hellopoetry
Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
Algeria a rich land poor people,
Angola seems to have kings,
Benin is blessed with voodoo,
Botswana blood bulls diamonds,
Burkina Faso can't cope coups,
Burundi twelve years a slave,
Cape Verde has half a million,
Cameroon got cocoa,
Chad's lake is shrinking,
Comoros has under a million,
DRC is third largest,
Congo is it's neighbour with capitals facing,
Côte d'Ivoire has few elephants,
Djibouti's on the horn,
Egypt has mummy's,
Equatorial guinea struck oil in 95 but didn't loose change,
Eritrea has 5000 running annually,
Ethiopia's great rift is pretty ******
Gabon is subject to black gold,
Gambia got a peace of it after 65,
Great Ghana oasis of peace,
Guinea is diverse,
Bissau too,
Kenyans have beautiful smiles,
Lesotho is SA's baby,
Liberia oldest republic,
Libya needs liberty,
Madagascar where are the penguins!
Malawi has warm hearts,
Mali is 8th,
Mauritania is 11th,
Mauritius marvel,
Morocco fine leather,
Mozambique keeps the dugongs,
Namibia Windhoek ah,
Niger after a river,
Nigeria makes zuma rock,
Rwanda listen,
Sao tome and principe 2nd smallest,
Senegoals,
She sells Seychelles,
Sierra Leone free?
Somalia loose,
S. Africa reign,
South Sudan independent?
Sudan - black,
Swaziland more than solo men,
Tanzania trade,
Togo up down,
Two knees yeah,
Uganda teacher come simeon,
Zambia's peace?
Zimbabwe got rid of Mugabe.
Always thought zed was co.za but we're actually co.zm,
so what's zim?
One way we'll loose change is when the overseers begin to acknowledge the under looked.
-nyanta
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
What's in Africa? What's there to see?
I asked myself on the New Year's eve
I thought that I was good in geography
But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi
I might be ignorant, I have to admit
About Africa I knew just a little bit
The great Sahara - sands of mystery!
The Nile river - so much history!
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria
Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia
Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana
Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia
I saw a film on Serengeti Park
A one of a kind, a must-see landmark
I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza
They're much much older than Mona Lisa
I heard that oldest coffee plants
Take their roots in Ethiopia's land
And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz
Take their beats from African drums
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco
Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania
Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea
Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan
You can travel around cities of Africa
Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca
If you're in love or plan to be
Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze!
Climb up mount Kilimanjaro
Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara
If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer
Take a wild trip down Zambezi river
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo
Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo
Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic
Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
A baby from Burundi sits next to me today.
He coos and drinks and swallows his mother’s milk.
His father speaks Swahili. Smiles, tells me that his last son
Is going to grow old in Rochester, NY,
Where I sit in a white-walled waiting room, watching
Mothers drag their babies by the armpits to be weighed.
A boy with braided beads holds up four fingers and tells me he is five.
He is too skinny. His pants are sagging and his iron is low.
His mother takes his vegetable checks, stuffs them into the back pocket of her jeans.
What the little **** needs is two percent milk, she says,
Her gold hoops fluttering.
Her son struggles with the small wooden chair he is carrying.
It drags along the carpet, hitting the high spots, and his tiny biceps flinch.
He sits, facing me, while a name is called. And another.
Another woman’s son hands me a book and waits.
He is watching my face and I watch his mother kiss her boyfriend in the first row seats.
He tucks his chin to his chest when I ask his name. Whispers, tells me Jayden.
First page. What color is Elmo, Jayden?
Shoulders shrugging. His lower lip, puckered out and innocent.
What color is he, Jayden?
The color of Jayden’s skin slaps me across the heart when he says he doesn’t know.
He was born in Rochester, NY,
With trash bags and Burger King wrappers wrapped around the fence
That separates his house from the street on which he will grow old
Too soon.
He starts kindergarten in the fall and I tell him Elmo is red, like his t-shirt.
Like his mother’s fingernails.
Like the tomatoes and bell peppers and beets he has never seen.
A girl who went to my High School carries in her youngest child
Who is old enough to walk, but wobbles.
She calls her daughter “thunder-thighs” instead of Jazmyne
And strips off her shoes. Her belt. Her gold bracelets.
The scale says Jazmyne is too heavy for food assistance.
The state says her mother isn’t poor enough for welfare.
The girl I used to know leaves without her daughter’s shoes or the food checks she came for.
In conversations of pretension
We talk about first and third world.
Pretend that America is the land of second chances
Where a baby from Burundi can grow old in cashmere sweaters,
Even when his parents couldn’t pay.
The father who speaks Swahili looks at his shiny watch and his family’s vegetable checks.
Smiles. Tells me his last son is going to grow old and full
In Rochester, NY.
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 12:51 PM UTC
The fearful python had swallow
Our fearless inner fellow,
See and hear the waves
Marching in their endless ranks,
Smashing blood against the
Rocks at the Burundi cliff,
Will the fog of despair and wail
Hung over Rwanda for long?
Hmm, the emotion of this moment
Has swallowed our African thought,
Oh no, this curious season
Has caused us to reason,
Will our rain be pain?
Will our pain be gain?
May be, when the rain fell on the
Leopard skin, it washed off its spots,
Behold, the endless umbilical cord
Of Africa has every reason to bleed,
For the bitter sword had
No respect for our mother’s womb,
Will our sorrow be fate?
Will our fate be hollow?
May be, when the frog in front fell,
The others behind did not take caution.
© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: [email protected]
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 5:53 AM UTC
Del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas
el amor junto a tu lado..
es el único que me interesa.
Si estamos abrigados, sea;
en el fardo de heno
en el frio aire campestre,
en una mansión o en un piso de tierra,
no importa donde sea,
si en la ciudad de las luces
o en la pobreza de Burundi,
del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas,
si estoy a tu costado,
me siento saciada y plena.
No importa si comemos caviar,
no importa si no nos toca viajar,
bordando sueños en tu dulce mirada,
arropada entre tus brazos
he encontrado yo, la novena maravilla,
en la dulzura de tu sonrisa.
Del amor y sus altibajos,
me deslizo entre tus labios,
tejiendo con ilusión en cada beso
la frazada que cobijara este ensueño,
de encontrarnos en el trayecto,
de reconocer en una mirada
el amor que alguna vez decretamos
como el único que esperábamos.
Del amor y sus riquezas,
del amor y sus pobrezas,
del amor y sus altibajos,
del amor que se promete,
de ese que se cansa y luego rejuvenece,
en un perdón con un beso en la cabeza,
o en el que se engancha a una camisa,
remendando aquellas palabras rotas,
sea en el fardo de heno,
en una mansión o en el suelo,
ya que lo único que importa,
es vivir este amor con grandeza y con empeño.
LeydisProse
11/24/2017
https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Nov 24, 2017
Nov 24, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
There was a Young Lady who tweezed
The hair from her nose as she sneezed;
She then plucked her eyebrows from lowbrows to highbrows,
That plucky Young Lady who tweezed.
There was an Old Person of Cairo,
Whose conquests were carved into hiero-
glyphics on stones where a pharaoh's wrapped bones
Are preserved in a chamber in Cairo.
There was an Old Man of Kampala,
Who prayed in the morning to Allah,
And in the bright light of the day, and at night,
That observant Old Man of Kampala.
There was an Old Man of Burundi,
Who prayed to the Salvator Mundi
Who met him upstairs and who answered his prayers
And who sainted that Man of Burundi.
There was a Young Person of Turkey,
Whose motives were muddy and murky;
He lived in the dark in the shade of a park,
That shadowy Person of Turkey.
There was an Old Man of Manilla,
Whose favoritest bean was vanilla;
He added the bean to all his cuisine,
That gastric Old Man of Manilla.
There was an Old Man of Beijing,
Who'd study all day the I Ching;
He balanced his qi with white rice and green tea,
That mystical Man of Beijing.
There was an Old Lady of Donegal,
A sister named Mary McGonegal;
She ruled with a ruler every pre-to-high-schooler,
That punishing Lady of Donegal.
There was a New Baby, whose nose
Was loving the smell of a rose
When it noticed the riper brown smell of a diaper,
Which offended that New Baby's nose.
There was an Old Man of Hong Kong,
Whose nose had a luminous ****
It lighted his way by night and by day,
That lucky Old Man of Hong Kong.
Mar 9, 2025
Mar 9, 2025 at 10:39 PM UTC
Burundi
Elusive it is the dream of peace
and the Burundi the president is seeking a third term,
but the people say NO, and fight for
a fair election, in dusty streets.
Africa has had enough of presidents who will not
give up power and lucrative ill-gotten gains.
People of Burundi, I salute you.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:17 AM UTC
a ***** war between language and forgetting
Gulag, Holocaust, Holodomor, Maafa
Operation Condor, Shock and Awe
red famine, potato famine
the kurdish, uyghur, rohingya, Isaaq genocide
Bengal, Rwanda, Armenia, Ukraine, Palestine,
Burundi, Nigeria, Zimbabwe
encompassing the geography of cruelty
someone humane did
actually write a book of inhumanity
560000 people killed on every page
1500 people killed at every word
still can't decipher the blood as if it's a hieroglyph
insatiable the history of pain
some are in the mood for war, for triumph
our eyes are swallowed by a verticalless convulsion
the cyclopic mind is doomed to fail
it's impossible to bury this time
in a hacked sky over a fragile earth
Apr 9, 2025
Apr 9, 2025 at 12:57 PM UTC