Long Poems About Africa
#Africa
summultima
uma
uma
Poem Published
9th Dec 2024 1:09pm
9th Dec 2024 1:09pm
~defenseless
in the heart of auburn equatorial sun
drumming wild with wet thunderbeats
of shrinking craniums & surfacing
uraniums- with winking tricky glints
of golden diamonds, busy feeding
the bloodied cartels
where also the social bonobos
still thrive in the feminine reigns
enriched by the gushing wide
riverine Congo & the falling high
Zongo in sand~ slurried screens
i stand (fading pale and blinded
as a frailly miniature grouped out ant ...
drumming wild with wet thunderbeats
of shrinking craniums & surfacing
uraniums- with winking tricky glints
of golden diamonds, busy feeding
the bloodied cartels
where also the social bonobos
still thrive in the feminine reigns
enriched by the gushing wide
riverine Congo & the falling high
Zongo in sand~ slurried screens
i stand (fading pale and blinded
as a frailly miniature grouped out ant ...
#Africa
#dark
#freedom
#politics
#rebellion
176 reads
10 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
26th Nov 2024 1:59am
26th Nov 2024 1:59am
My Lioness Flickers Between Serengeti Moonbeams
My Lioness Flickers Between Serengeti Moonbeams
Our African vacation starts at a luxury hotel in Nairobi. But I pine for a photographic safari into the Serengeti. Over breakfast, I break some news for Jane. “Hey let’s try this on for size. Jane, I want to take you on a safari into Tanzania. Maybe we’ll have an adventure like in a J.G. Ballard novel.”
She says, “You’re so crazy, but truly we could face off with a pride of lions looking for supper. The signs ain’t good darling. The continental breakfast bar at this hotel is more than enough for me. We can go to the...
Our African vacation starts at a luxury hotel in Nairobi. But I pine for a photographic safari into the Serengeti. Over breakfast, I break some news for Jane. “Hey let’s try this on for size. Jane, I want to take you on a safari into Tanzania. Maybe we’ll have an adventure like in a J.G. Ballard novel.”
She says, “You’re so crazy, but truly we could face off with a pride of lions looking for supper. The signs ain’t good darling. The continental breakfast bar at this hotel is more than enough for me. We can go to the...
#Africa
#love
#marriage
#sensual
#son
48 reads
0 Comments
Wordsmith
Poem Published
24th Oct 2024 7:26pm
24th Oct 2024 7:26pm
The Cry of Africa
In the heart of Africa... a tale unfolds,
of oil and gold... diamonds and coal
riches untold... of lands turned cold.
Our soil, a treasure... deep and vast
Yet stolen by shadows from the very past.
Corrupt leaders sit... on lofty thrones
Trading futures... for foreign loans.
They dine in luxury... in gold arrays,
While the people suffer... lost in haze.
The streets are weary... hope is thin
Promises broken... time and time again.
They speak of change... with polished lies
ELÖFÖKANBALÈ... now, our tensions hyped
While...
of oil and gold... diamonds and coal
riches untold... of lands turned cold.
Our soil, a treasure... deep and vast
Yet stolen by shadows from the very past.
Corrupt leaders sit... on lofty thrones
Trading futures... for foreign loans.
They dine in luxury... in gold arrays,
While the people suffer... lost in haze.
The streets are weary... hope is thin
Promises broken... time and time again.
They speak of change... with polished lies
ELÖFÖKANBALÈ... now, our tensions hyped
While...
#Africa
#corruption
#freedom
#peace
#politics
62 reads
2 Comments
cabcool
Poem Published
12th Feb 2024 3:49am
12th Feb 2024 3:49am
anansi
It's not always about being the hero, sometimes it's about
being the trickster.”—Anansi Boys
akan-jamaican passion
landscaped not by vext ration
a little axe that fells big trees
cunning in sun and rain and breeze
fearful of no assassin
stealthy without moccasin
an octopus with human
face and spider’s acumen
he...
being the trickster.”—Anansi Boys
akan-jamaican passion
landscaped not by vext ration
a little axe that fells big trees
cunning in sun and rain and breeze
fearful of no assassin
stealthy without moccasin
an octopus with human
face and spider’s acumen
he...
#Africa
#narrative
#culture #tradition
#culture #tradition
158 reads
0 Comments
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
204 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
168 reads
8 Comments
PittinixDesigns
Poem Published
31st Dec 2022 11:10pm
31st Dec 2022 11:10pm
Haile Selassie Is Not God
Rastafarians will feel animosity towards the author of this composition.
Emperor Haile Selassie was a wicked and corrupt ruler, not God.
He did not care about the underprivileged people of Ethiopia.
Millions of Negroes starved and suffered under his oppressive leadership.
The uncivilized Rastas rejoiced that their god was coming for them.
His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie I visited Jamaica on April 21, 1966.
And he needed an interpreter to translate between English and his tongue.
What kind of god does not understand the language of...
Emperor Haile Selassie was a wicked and corrupt ruler, not God.
He did not care about the underprivileged people of Ethiopia.
Millions of Negroes starved and suffered under his oppressive leadership.
The uncivilized Rastas rejoiced that their god was coming for them.
His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie I visited Jamaica on April 21, 1966.
And he needed an interpreter to translate between English and his tongue.
What kind of god does not understand the language of...
#oppression
#Africa
#religion
#God
#suffering
313 reads
0 Comments
PittinixDesigns
Poem Published
30th Aug 2022 2:17am
30th Aug 2022 2:17am
America
The time has come to lift up the carpet of deception and expose the dirt that you swept under it.
We do not care whether you can stand the smell of your own excrement or not.
Your opportunistic forefathers ran away from Great Britain and came to the west as wanders.
They settled in other people’s lands, and they reaped what they did not cultivate.
The Americans claimed that they discovered a land, but the land had already been inhabited by people.
So the country that you proudly call your home does not belong to you; it is a stolen land.
Your dishonest...
We do not care whether you can stand the smell of your own excrement or not.
Your opportunistic forefathers ran away from Great Britain and came to the west as wanders.
They settled in other people’s lands, and they reaped what they did not cultivate.
The Americans claimed that they discovered a land, but the land had already been inhabited by people.
So the country that you proudly call your home does not belong to you; it is a stolen land.
Your dishonest...
#murder
#evil
#America
#Africa
#racism
293 reads
0 Comments
summultima
uma
uma
Poem Published
1st Nov 2020 10:15pm
1st Nov 2020 10:15pm
RAKTAKARABI~ BLOOD OLEANDERS: From My Congolese Times… Towards The Light Of Liberation
I am her ‘Madaame’ Of Everything
ingrained in her rarity flashing ivory smiles
to her ever red rising simmering eyeful suns
in delicate armours of tearful hanging glistens
that she unfallibly holds within the kohl
black lashes that yearns to touch
skyhigh liberating flights
Yet, mellowed down rustic
earthen tones of perseverance
she heavily bears forevermore
as weighing down destiny.. in those
simplistic mellowly beaming rays
she sprightly blooms with…
her vivacious pagne’s striking...
ingrained in her rarity flashing ivory smiles
to her ever red rising simmering eyeful suns
in delicate armours of tearful hanging glistens
that she unfallibly holds within the kohl
black lashes that yearns to touch
skyhigh liberating flights
Yet, mellowed down rustic
earthen tones of perseverance
she heavily bears forevermore
as weighing down destiny.. in those
simplistic mellowly beaming rays
she sprightly blooms with…
her vivacious pagne’s striking...
#Africa
#RabindranathTagore
501 reads
9 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
404 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
453 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
450 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Poems About Africa
