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Best Ugandan Poems

Below are the all-time best Ugandan poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Ugandan poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Lion In Cage---Ugandan Story For You by Roger Carter, Rodgers

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The Best Ugandan Poems

Details | Ugandan Poem | |

Hooking up is mad

She is a Ugandan girl
The odds are stacked against her
That is her first hurdle
She is also a Christian girl
That is her second hurdle
Clearly, hooking up is bad

She goes ahead
She braves the storm
She hits the bar
Try as she may
The good ones won’t play
Clearly, hooking up is hard

She lays out her cards
Rack, arse and eyes
She works it, oh does she work it
Her trap is set; at last a rat is caught
Off to bed with a barely a name known
Clearly, hooking up is mad

Come the morning
Exposed in the harsh light of day
Sneaking out with shoes in hand
Breath laced with the stale smell of booze
Shoulders low under the weight of regret
Clearly, hooking up is sad.

More great poems below...


Details | Ugandan Poem | |

Lion In Cage---Ugandan Story For You

As you come to Uganda visit Entebe zoo Come to the lion cage Don't stare or watch just look in the lions eyes It will tell you all the stories of Kampala You see the red eyes of Besigye With the zeal to break the cage And lead Uganda But the pain of tear gas is unbearable Look at this lion again Laying down as if it has been tamed Then you will see a Lukwago Who wants to do the mayor job But all the power is in Musisi Come closer, you will the lion roar To show its potential but all in vain Like Nsereko moving a motion In Parliament But scared by his mother party Don't stop look closest You will see this is not a lion Its a lioness, Its kadaga Chairing Parliament On tension to expel rebel MPs Look again you will see it all The begging hands of street kids for rescue The serious police force The sweat of unemployed graduates The noise of boda boda riders And the potholes in the city This lion at Entebe zoo Knows how much the staff labors to fed it It know how much they spend on it Like the way Ugandans know How much the government has given to them But as you look at it It tries to hide its jungle character Because thats how it earns money to feed it It knows the staff gets from what belongs to it Like the way corrupt officials Pledge on our funerals Burying our own who died of disease That would have been cured by the same money They played lots Now run away from that cage Before that lion comes with all its craws Begging for its freedom Like Ugandans On walk to work

Details | Ugandan Poem | |

jK AND MAGI

******Hello everybody, I hope you are doing well. I haven’t  wrote a poem in a long time it sees.  So I am glad to write a poem for two women named JK and Magi. JK and Magi, two Ugandan women who were tortured, jailed and "correctively raped," because they were lesbians. Corrective rape is a horrific practice in which it is believed that rape can "cure" a woman of their homosexuality, leading them to marry men and have children. Because being openly gay in Ugandan society is so dangerous, these women fled the country, leaving their children behind.

You are strong like a tornado tearing down a town. 
They wanted to make you weak, but by staying yourselves,
YOU ARE THE ONES WHO HAVE MADE THEM WEAK.

They are still being afraid and weakened by the power of fakeness when they continue to not be their true selves.
Yes you fled, but fled into the hearts of others only to share your love and strength to people who have been weakened.
Continue to light up the sky and the hearts of others.
For you have paved an amazing path for your children by just being,  You.

Details | Ugandan Poem | |

The Dead Hand

( Since 1987, a group of Ugandan military rebels, called the Lords Resistance army has
been kidnapping, raping and torturing Ugandan children.At Night, these children are forced
to leave their villages and walk for miles to safe cages, in hopes that they won't be take
by the LRA...They have been dubbed The Night Walkers.This is my response to them...)

Everything I see leaves a mark on my soul

And it is with this bleeding heart that I suffer with you

I am there when the nights are long and weary

Watching the devils pour out of the darkness

To take you sons and rape your daughters

I am there to wait for the smoke to clear long enough to survey the wreckage

The Horrors not meant to burden the human soul

And I am there to feel the fires

To count in silent despair

To cover the bodies

Your husbands

Your brothers

The tiny hands of a wasted nation

Knowing that there are enough tears within us all to soak the cracked earth upon which you
stand, to wash away the dirt and ages from a million hardened faces and fill the hollow
pits of swollen stomachs

But you are the forgotten ones

Alone in your grief

And for that I am sorry

So instead I lay my heart next to yours and watch as the army of faceless monsters march
your babies into darkness

Forced to kill their fathers and brothers

Raping the bodies of their sisters and mothers

Waiting in bated frustration as the dead hand of abhorration is laid across the forheads
of your young

And even now I stand beside you

Shaking my fist at an unrelenting sky

Screaming into the deaf ears of a world devoid of humanity

Crying away your forgotten sorrows

It is with this bleeding heart that I call out but there is no answer