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Famous Short Africa Poems. Short Africa Poetry by Famous Poets

Famous Short Africa Poems. Short Africa Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Africa short poems

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

 
by Edward Dorn

Heart of Copper

 The Candidate, answering a question
about El Salvador, generalized
by saying he thought
we should support human rights
everywhere they were being abrogated--
South Korea, South Africa
or South Yemen.
He didn't have the moral perspicuity to mention South Dakota.
Perhaps it's too far north.


by Phillis Wheatley

One Being Brought From Africa To America

 'TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought now knew,
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.
' Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.


by Susan Rich

For Sale

 Xhosa women in clothes too light

for the weather have brought wild flowers

and sit sloped along the Claremont road.
I see her through rolled windows, watch her watch me to decide if I’ll pay.
It’s South Africa, after all, after apartheid; but we’re still idling here, my car to her curb, my automatic locks to her inadequate wage.


by Phillis Wheatley

On Being Brought from Africa to America

 'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye, "Their colour is a diabolic die.
" Remember, Christians, Negro's, black as Cain, May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.


by Godfrey Mutiso Gorry

This country nurtured hope...

 This country nurtured hope decayed,
The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler,
The thief.
Feeling the base of his belly.
There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my foot Nor hand nor back Its rusted tin makeshifts make my blood flow slow.
War has filled my heart with bullets, Steel and blood do not mix.
A bullet lodged in my head Is another brain of the dead.
Africa my home Africa my tomb.


by Robert Browning

Home Thoughts From The Sea

 Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;
Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;
Bluish 'mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;
In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey;
"Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?"—say,
Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,
While Jove's planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.