Poems About Africa Seeking Friendly Advice
#Africa
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Apr 2023 9:48pm
28th Apr 2023 9:48pm
Grandpa Blues for Grandma & Me
Grandpa Blues for Grandma & Me
Deserted gas station
In pitch black cloak
Of an African American gentleman
Ambling down the street
Our guardian seraph
On this blue avenue
Where parishioners of the church congregate
And a New Jerusalem waits
The man ushers us down the aisle
What is your name I ask?
“Richard, too many people know me
Where I died in Paris
But here hardly anyone knows me.
I prefer the anonymity of my hometown.”
And the memory of a lonely sign
By the bluffs that honors the Native Son ...
Deserted gas station
In pitch black cloak
Of an African American gentleman
Ambling down the street
Our guardian seraph
On this blue avenue
Where parishioners of the church congregate
And a New Jerusalem waits
The man ushers us down the aisle
What is your name I ask?
“Richard, too many people know me
Where I died in Paris
But here hardly anyone knows me.
I prefer the anonymity of my hometown.”
And the memory of a lonely sign
By the bluffs that honors the Native Son ...
#love
#father
#brother
#Africa
#spiritual
136 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
3rd Apr 2023 5:21am
3rd Apr 2023 5:21am
The Discovery of Coffee
The Discovery of Coffee
Her spirit was first made flesh
before the fall of Atlantis
in the ancient coffee forests
of the Ethiopian plateau
where she was the first
to find out that the bean
was more than something
picked by children for fun
And she was the one of those kids
Who gathered magic beans for play
Only to learn that they made much more
Than a basket full of pretty seeds
But when dropped in a pot
Held over a fire
Became a brew of exquisite...
Her spirit was first made flesh
before the fall of Atlantis
in the ancient coffee forests
of the Ethiopian plateau
where she was the first
to find out that the bean
was more than something
picked by children for fun
And she was the one of those kids
Who gathered magic beans for play
Only to learn that they made much more
Than a basket full of pretty seeds
But when dropped in a pot
Held over a fire
Became a brew of exquisite...
#women
#childhood
#Africa
#shadows
#coffee
103 reads
8 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
5th Mar 2023 00:57am
5th Mar 2023 00:57am
Acacia Soul
Acacia Soul
Your soulful journey could be
an exquisite myth of long ago
but is as real as the sun that rises.
Each chapter is a pearl
from your poetic universe
that shines like an iridescent star
in the heaven of your world.
Magic from a far-off land
sings to me like a woman while cooking
and takes me into your heart
where lies treasures untold
that gleam with the powers
of your spirit whose allure
is a sienna tracks ...
Your soulful journey could be
an exquisite myth of long ago
but is as real as the sun that rises.
Each chapter is a pearl
from your poetic universe
that shines like an iridescent star
in the heaven of your world.
Magic from a far-off land
sings to me like a woman while cooking
and takes me into your heart
where lies treasures untold
that gleam with the powers
of your spirit whose allure
is a sienna tracks ...
#women
#Africa
#trees
#nature
#spiritual
118 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
9th Jun 2022 1:38am
9th Jun 2022 1:38am
Baobab Fruit - rewrite
Baobab Fruit
The magic hour of nightfall approaches
We follow the avenue of the baobab trees
to the home whose hidden history cries
like a nightingale in the forest of dreams
The path between the old souls
made of wood is cool and dark
as the black forest on a gothic evening
under the howl of a hyena moon
The sky has a salmon-pink...
The magic hour of nightfall approaches
We follow the avenue of the baobab trees
to the home whose hidden history cries
like a nightingale in the forest of dreams
The path between the old souls
made of wood is cool and dark
as the black forest on a gothic evening
under the howl of a hyena moon
The sky has a salmon-pink...
#Africa
#nature
#spiritual #mythology
#spiritual #mythology
187 reads
2 Comments
Laluma
Poem Published
15th Jun 2021 11:00pm
15th Jun 2021 11:00pm
Forbidden
Most people have always been taught to fear the dark rather than to embrace it
In the modern day this causes controversy
Some no longer even desire to ponder upon
For it is still considered forbidden
As fear even keeps kindred spirits hidden
Those black hands touching that white skin
No surprise when the rules originate from a male stale pale source
Wielding this cruel callous authority in places far and wide
Showing boundless love to the near and dear
Whose natural masks from birth they wear ever so clear
Unbelievably true some may say ...
In the modern day this causes controversy
Some no longer even desire to ponder upon
For it is still considered forbidden
As fear even keeps kindred spirits hidden
Those black hands touching that white skin
No surprise when the rules originate from a male stale pale source
Wielding this cruel callous authority in places far and wide
Showing boundless love to the near and dear
Whose natural masks from birth they wear ever so clear
Unbelievably true some may say ...
#ILoveYou
#Africa
#despair
#disappointment
#fear
397 reads
6 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
7th May 2021 5:38am
7th May 2021 5:38am
Africa
Africa
Drunken spiders from the gold rush
When guitar genesis turned rusty
But Madagascar a strummer’s waltz
On wings of diamond birds
Whose songs are in the native tongue
With French peacock plumage
To court their wild sisters
With graffiti of street souls splashed
On ghetto walls whose concrete reality
Is wood carved into memory staffs
As they watch oil-laden ships sail to the horizon
With wealth, only Croesus will know
Drunken spiders from the gold rush
When guitar genesis turned rusty
But Madagascar a strummer’s waltz
On wings of diamond birds
Whose songs are in the native tongue
With French peacock plumage
To court their wild sisters
With graffiti of street souls splashed
On ghetto walls whose concrete reality
Is wood carved into memory staffs
As they watch oil-laden ships sail to the horizon
With wealth, only Croesus will know
#Africa
#money
#music
#art
#dance
307 reads
11 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Mar 2021 8:25pm
17th Mar 2021 8:25pm
Paul Bowles Dream
Paul Bowles Dream
My dream is to savor cardamom coffee
in a Tangiers souk
with hashish perfume of yesteryear
floating in clouds,
With the camel riders,
who populated Bowles stories,
telling Moroccan folklore.
My dream is to savor cardamom coffee
in a Tangiers souk
with hashish perfume of yesteryear
floating in clouds,
With the camel riders,
who populated Bowles stories,
telling Moroccan folklore.
#Africa
#marijuana
#coffee
376 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
18th Dec 2020 1:02am
18th Dec 2020 1:02am
Ancestral Passion
Ancestral Passion
Passing through the wilderness of Life
The paths radiate outward in endless spirals
Strange memories lead us on
Through the labyrinth of timeless dreams
The dark sea raging beneath the surface
Hides ancestral spirits
Their voices whisper in unison
Clamoring for a foothold in the waking mind
Sometimes in a quiet moment
When the restless motion of ancient fears
Brims to the surface
We catch a glimpse of the source
The heart of all humanity
The dreamland where shadows play
...
Passing through the wilderness of Life
The paths radiate outward in endless spirals
Strange memories lead us on
Through the labyrinth of timeless dreams
The dark sea raging beneath the surface
Hides ancestral spirits
Their voices whisper in unison
Clamoring for a foothold in the waking mind
Sometimes in a quiet moment
When the restless motion of ancient fears
Brims to the surface
We catch a glimpse of the source
The heart of all humanity
The dreamland where shadows play
...
#Africa
#humankind
#evolution #historical
#evolution #historical
297 reads
4 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
26th Aug 2020 9:26am
26th Aug 2020 9:26am
the Nordic Pyramid
The Nordic Pyramid
Up north, where I was born
there is a mountain in the shape of a pyramid
of course, it is much bigger
dwarfing the Egyptian´ones.
It is snow-capped looks desolate
but every year I have noticed the snow crown
is getting smaller
now it is the size of a French beret.
Soon the snow will disappear and
the mountain will look like a pyramid.
A testament that once the human race lived here,
but they like the Tasmanian tiger
disappeared from the planet.
They will never come back again.
Up north, where I was born
there is a mountain in the shape of a pyramid
of course, it is much bigger
dwarfing the Egyptian´ones.
It is snow-capped looks desolate
but every year I have noticed the snow crown
is getting smaller
now it is the size of a French beret.
Soon the snow will disappear and
the mountain will look like a pyramid.
A testament that once the human race lived here,
but they like the Tasmanian tiger
disappeared from the planet.
They will never come back again.
#Africa
#city
#earth #beach
#earth #beach
356 reads
2 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
12th Aug 2020 7:30am
12th Aug 2020 7:30am
wars we like
wars we like
Do we like wars as long as it is at our doorstep
the Russians fought in Afghanistan and lost hands down
the USA took over this unwinnable war so far it has lasted
Twelve years with no end in sight.
The USA lost the Vietnam war, but Hollywood came
to the rescue made movies of brave soldiers whose every
bullets hit a target, yet they fled from the rooftop in Hanoi
it was a sickening sight.
In the meantime, the French are fighting a war against the rebellious
in central Africa to defend and give the presidency
to those...
Do we like wars as long as it is at our doorstep
the Russians fought in Afghanistan and lost hands down
the USA took over this unwinnable war so far it has lasted
Twelve years with no end in sight.
The USA lost the Vietnam war, but Hollywood came
to the rescue made movies of brave soldiers whose every
bullets hit a target, yet they fled from the rooftop in Hanoi
it was a sickening sight.
In the meantime, the French are fighting a war against the rebellious
in central Africa to defend and give the presidency
to those...
#Africa
#utopia
#prison
305 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
22nd Jul 2020 00:24am
22nd Jul 2020 00:24am
African Interlude
African Interlude
The magic hour of nightfall approaches. She pulls me by the hand with the urgency of the moon tugging on the sea. Fireflies blink on and off like stars in the Galactic night. Their glowing tails light the trail to a house decaying in the forest solitude.
We open the door as our phosphorescent friends shed light on the dust motes which are suspended in a silent dance. Wrinkled boots hang pendulously from rusty nails. A salt caked jar sparkles like a pauper’s chandelier. The little-winged lanterns shed light on the dresser that has sinuous cracks...
The magic hour of nightfall approaches. She pulls me by the hand with the urgency of the moon tugging on the sea. Fireflies blink on and off like stars in the Galactic night. Their glowing tails light the trail to a house decaying in the forest solitude.
We open the door as our phosphorescent friends shed light on the dust motes which are suspended in a silent dance. Wrinkled boots hang pendulously from rusty nails. A salt caked jar sparkles like a pauper’s chandelier. The little-winged lanterns shed light on the dresser that has sinuous cracks...
#love
#kindness
#grief
#Africa
#memories
337 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
10th Jul 2020 3:16pm
10th Jul 2020 3:16pm
Scent of Tamarind
Scent of Tamarind
We meet in the Casbah when I step down the stairs like Zeus descending Olympus. Her sisters are wrapped in burqas. With my glance, they dart like little birds back into their nest. Suddenly the window opens again. Her face peeks out and she beckons me with a tongue click. Her eyes are portals of dark fury.
She opens a door below and I find myself in a dark room scented with lemon. She says, “Let us drink cardamom tea and let the hours slip by like seconds on the clock.”
I say, “Why would a spring flower bestow her affections on a grey mop...
We meet in the Casbah when I step down the stairs like Zeus descending Olympus. Her sisters are wrapped in burqas. With my glance, they dart like little birds back into their nest. Suddenly the window opens again. Her face peeks out and she beckons me with a tongue click. Her eyes are portals of dark fury.
She opens a door below and I find myself in a dark room scented with lemon. She says, “Let us drink cardamom tea and let the hours slip by like seconds on the clock.”
I say, “Why would a spring flower bestow her affections on a grey mop...
#love
#romantic
#death
#Africa
#heaven
374 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Africa Seeking Friendly Advice
