Poems About Africa Seeking Friendly Advice
#Africa
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
465 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
405 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
458 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
402 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
449 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
497 reads
4 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
28th Feb 2020 00:51am
28th Feb 2020 00:51am
Rwanda Bound
Rwanda Bound
Rowena says, “Honey, I don’t want to ruffle your feathers after our romantic night of beer and potato chips over movies. However, do you recall that French was my major in college? In fact, it is my second language.”
Doug replies, “You know I am in complete agreement. We should watch more French movies instead of American cheese. So finally I will set up our satellite TV and we’ll watch Brigitte Bardot to our heart’s content. Of course, you will be my starlet Brigitte will just put us in the mood.”
“What I have in mind will be a cultural...
Rowena says, “Honey, I don’t want to ruffle your feathers after our romantic night of beer and potato chips over movies. However, do you recall that French was my major in college? In fact, it is my second language.”
Doug replies, “You know I am in complete agreement. We should watch more French movies instead of American cheese. So finally I will set up our satellite TV and we’ll watch Brigitte Bardot to our heart’s content. Of course, you will be my starlet Brigitte will just put us in the mood.”
“What I have in mind will be a cultural...
#love
#jealousy
#marriage
#Africa
#peace
477 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
21st Aug 2019 7:04am
21st Aug 2019 7:04am
Breakfast in Africa, Dinner in Cancun
Breakfast in Africa, Dinner in Cancun
Our three-day trip to Nairobi on a flatbed truck takes us across Tanzania into the Serengeti grasslands. The hours pass as I watch people in the fields carry bundles of wheat on their shoulders. I watch the brown-skinned women carry their babies into thatched roof homes, to eat, sleep, and dream. As the day passes into dusk and I watch the dying red embers of the sun.
At the Kenyan border, the customs man boards our truck to look at our papers but our attire is the focus of his attention. “You two look good in those...
Our three-day trip to Nairobi on a flatbed truck takes us across Tanzania into the Serengeti grasslands. The hours pass as I watch people in the fields carry bundles of wheat on their shoulders. I watch the brown-skinned women carry their babies into thatched roof homes, to eat, sleep, and dream. As the day passes into dusk and I watch the dying red embers of the sun.
At the Kenyan border, the customs man boards our truck to look at our papers but our attire is the focus of his attention. “You two look good in those...
#Africa
#beach
#alcohol #heaven
#alcohol #heaven
512 reads
2 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
29th Jul 2019 4:13am
29th Jul 2019 4:13am
Ethiopian Songbird - rewrite
Ethiopian Songbird
“Nyala, today is a slow day for selling tomatoes. Please tell me how you became the most popular barroom singer in Addis Ababa. I’ll give you a quart of milk from my prize goat in exchange.”
“Well, how could I refuse such an offer? The taste of Ethiopian dust followed me into my dreams. Also, the beggar, blind in one eye, was there, who never panhandled to the miserly rich because while their bank accounts were full their hearts were empty. Also, there was the gypsy woman whose wares I couldn’t afford but who let me sit in the shade of her market...
“Nyala, today is a slow day for selling tomatoes. Please tell me how you became the most popular barroom singer in Addis Ababa. I’ll give you a quart of milk from my prize goat in exchange.”
“Well, how could I refuse such an offer? The taste of Ethiopian dust followed me into my dreams. Also, the beggar, blind in one eye, was there, who never panhandled to the miserly rich because while their bank accounts were full their hearts were empty. Also, there was the gypsy woman whose wares I couldn’t afford but who let me sit in the shade of her market...
#women
#childhood
#Africa #music
#Africa #music
512 reads
2 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
3rd Jul 2019 7:07pm
3rd Jul 2019 7:07pm
nurses
6 Indian Summer
Nurses
What an odd career choice. The first nurses
let patients die in agony since it was God‘s
In suffering the patient found god.
Later in Victorian times, it was well to do ladies domain, cleaning of bedpan and so on.
Today it is a profession, in a country like Norway one
has to study long to become a nurse, but the pay
is good, less so in Britain- nurses come in many guises
some are tall and some smell of garlic, furtive cigarettes
and worst of all some nurses smell of a nasty blow job
but they all have in...
Nurses
What an odd career choice. The first nurses
let patients die in agony since it was God‘s
In suffering the patient found god.
Later in Victorian times, it was well to do ladies domain, cleaning of bedpan and so on.
Today it is a profession, in a country like Norway one
has to study long to become a nurse, but the pay
is good, less so in Britain- nurses come in many guises
some are tall and some smell of garlic, furtive cigarettes
and worst of all some nurses smell of a nasty blow job
but they all have in...
#Africa
#city
#beach #prison
#beach #prison
409 reads
1 Comment
oskar
Poem Published
5th Jun 2019 11:09am
5th Jun 2019 11:09am
not my story
Not my story
During the fight of the French and the Algerians
I was caught in the middle of it.
A French surgeon who sided with Algeria, had
Given then vital information and four of us legioners
We're told to execute him.
When we arrived, he was in the middle of surgery
So we decided to wait, none of us wanted the job
But orders are orders so we waited
Finally, he came out we had guns at the ready
And he said: I don’t want any of you to be guilty2
By then he popped a pill in his mouth and died
Instantly, an ambulance was...
During the fight of the French and the Algerians
I was caught in the middle of it.
A French surgeon who sided with Algeria, had
Given then vital information and four of us legioners
We're told to execute him.
When we arrived, he was in the middle of surgery
So we decided to wait, none of us wanted the job
But orders are orders so we waited
Finally, he came out we had guns at the ready
And he said: I don’t want any of you to be guilty2
By then he popped a pill in his mouth and died
Instantly, an ambulance was...
#Africa
#city
#beach
#prison
#Britain
485 reads
2 Comments
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
jade tiger
Poem Published
19th May 2019 10:41pm
19th May 2019 10:41pm
Gone Fishing
It’s June, & winter in Johannesburg,
but how to justify thinking of that.
Why not Cape Town at Table Mountain;
why South Africa at all?
I’m on the other side of the world,
wearing cutoffs over my 2-piece
and peering through Raybans—
Defiant, looking straight into Summer
‘cross the Pacific’s blinding shimmer
as I stand on a weathered jetty,
a jar of live bait at my feet.
A fishing pole in my right hand
gripped tight in its fist
like a javelin
that I’m getting read to throw. ...
but how to justify thinking of that.
Why not Cape Town at Table Mountain;
why South Africa at all?
I’m on the other side of the world,
wearing cutoffs over my 2-piece
and peering through Raybans—
Defiant, looking straight into Summer
‘cross the Pacific’s blinding shimmer
as I stand on a weathered jetty,
a jar of live bait at my feet.
A fishing pole in my right hand
gripped tight in its fist
like a javelin
that I’m getting read to throw. ...
#jealousy
#Africa
#sea
#summer
#fish
718 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Africa Seeking Friendly Advice
