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Details | Africa Poem | |

Death Muses of ISIS

face down
shot dead- see fear
all round

speak- tell
they'll hear-hush now
death knell 

breathe light
killers are near
tonight


Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Date: 11/26/14
Contest: Whispers of a Muse

Details | Africa Poem | |

MY AFRICA, UNITE TO REWRITE HER STORY

Africa; the land of great ancient myths
With culture diversified, but united mythos.
Traced to bear the ancestry of man
With the found evidence of modern humans.

Africa; like a rule of dynasty bestrides the equator
And encircles diverse unending climate sector
Stretching in awe-inspiring from the North Temperate Zone
Exuding the composite satellite imagery to the Southern pole.

Africa; a resource-rich and second-largest continent
With abundant natural resources that makes it pertinent
To the international community, especially the West
Such that they always want her to be their conquest.

Africa; they much talk about her in the global arena
But always present a mirror image of her aura.
They envy her diamonds, gold, coal, cocoa, and crude oil
That they glow while she mangles herself in turmoil.

Africa; whose stories are always told in a horrible manner
And images portrayed like all she holds is poverty and hunger.
But we know Africa is fascinating, invigorating, and amazing
With her azure clouds and vivid green lands that are unending.

Africa; embossed in awe moist grayness and magnificent mountains
With swirling long-lasting waterfalls stimulating her fountains
And inter alia scenic view of hills and crystal beaches
That marvels the tourists, and geologists see her as a peach.

Africa; muddled in kleptomania that has left her in wanton hardship
And her people glued to delusions that wash up their craftsmanship
Such that they often let her down by being unable to see
The aura of mystery in her versatile resources given by nature for free.

Africa; still muddling through despite the variegated challenges she faces
Needs her people to be well articulated and embrace with a game face
The clarion call that the time is long overdue to unite to rewrite her stories
For only Africans can tell better the untold stories about Africa’s histories.

Africa; I look at the east, west, north, central and south
I hear; and I see the youths strutting; and yelling for change in loud shouts
For they’re tired of bad governments, rebels, militants, genocide and warring
For their future is not of hatred, food crisis, diseases, but devoid of suffering.

Details | Africa Poem | |

New Dawn

As I roll out of bed tomorrow
I’m gonna say goodbye sorrow
Fare thee well Mr. Cynicism
See you later Mr. Pessimism
Adios to Mr. Skepticism
Exit negativity, enter positivity
No procrastination and inactivity 
An idle mind is the devils workshop
That’s why I’ll exert myself nonstop
No more misery and depression
As exuberance replaces dejection
Success is around the corner
It’s coming now and not later
Victory is surely heading my way
No matter what people may say
I quit banking my future on luck
Time has come to break the duck
A new dawn has shown its face
My home will be a better place
I’m a potential winner, a true born victor
Within me lies a superstar, a megastar
No I’m not building castles in the air, 
I’m not dreaming, I’m not hallucinating
I have to earn my place in history
Put a good ending to my unfinished story
My story is about confidence, not arrogance
I advocate humility, not vanity
Trials and tribulation come and go
Sticky situations are not unique to you
But we all know as well as you do
You need hard work and determination 
For the youth, education is the only solution
You’ve got to make the decision
To extract yourself from destitution 
Leave nothing at all to chance
For fortune favours the brave
No sweet without sweat, no pain, no gain
Each time you fall recollect and try again
A dream doesn’t become reality through magic
Lazy genius is not only sad but also tragic
Stay focused, keep your eyes on the prize
There is no substitute for hard work
There are no secrets to success
Only in the dictionary does success precede work
We are all gifted, skilled and talented 
Unshackle that innate ability 
Let loose that latent capability
I’m gonna prepare, plan and plot
Execute and give it my best shot
Until the day that I hit the jackpot

Details | Africa Poem | |

Children of the Valleys

And as the hills yonder 
Turned red from sunset rays
As darkness engulfed the valley
And the sweet sounds of birds
Rent the cool evening air

Our cows and sheep and goats 
Hurried down the footpath
As though they were late
To a gathering of clans
Or to one of their own

And we the happy herds' boys
Turned our ravenous thoughts
To bananas yams and milk
And all available munch-able stuff
To calm our restless tummies

And as the evening metamorphosed into night
And the stars of the sky reclaimed their might
We the famished children of the valleys
Approached the fireside with widening eyes
As the roughshod soldiers laid claim to all
And shot in the air to frighten us all.

And so we watched with pangs of hunger 
Training our wrath and rancor and dismay
To other sons and daughters of Africa
Who for reasons best known to them
Or known only to their heartless handlers
Proclaimed themselves ‘defenders of our freedom.’


Voila! Children of the valleys of Africa
And of the cities and slums of Africa
You who gather in the evening breeze
After torrid days in the fields and streets
Only to return to a darkening sky
Sans food sans wear sans light. Voila! 

Details | Africa Poem | |

Angels of Destiny

Angels of destiny, sunk in empty eyes so clear,
Angels of destiny, every day your fate so near.
Seldom has your little face been graced with a smile
Nothing strikes you funny as you search the garbage pile.

These angels are babies, little babes without a bed.
Every day their hands held out for just one piece of bread.
Dreams of hoping something, anything would be more fare
Praying maybe someone, anyone might care.

Poor poor angels I would love to give much more,
But I'm too busy keeping up with the guy next door.
I wish he hadn’t bought that new boat down at the bay,
Now I'll have to save to buy a bigger one some day

Angels of destiny sentenced to a life of fears,
Angels of destiny, I will just leave you my tears.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.09.2014
Contest The Poet II
Gautami Phookan
Theme: Leave you my tears
6th

Details | Africa Poem | |

Better days

                Better days
Is all good 
To hope for
 The better days
But is there 
Actually better days
Without making today 
The best

Oh better days
Can't be without
The best of today

Better days
Too many knees on the
Ground
Too many heads kissing
The floor
Too many hands 
with ten fingers
Together straight up
Like a triangle
In deferent pulpits
Deferent temples
All to one just
Praying and hoping
To god
For only the 
Better days

Oh better days
Can't be without 
The best of today

Better days
Too many questions
I ask myself
Too many places I
Go 
Like I see life's 
As they live in darkness
While they keep
Hoping for the 
 Better Days
Some believe 
The better days only 
Exist After life
With their religion
While a kind 
Like me live 
the better days
Now with love

Oh better days
Can't be with out
The best of today

Better days
What make a day 
Better than another
How can we hope 
For tomorrow
While we waste today 
Away with our ignorance
Oh live every day with
Love and you will
Always have the best of
The day
With love 
each day is better and 
Better 
Here you will always have
A 
Better days

Oh better days 
Can't be with out
The best of today

Better days
Love yourself 
As you love another
Love what you do
Do what you love
Believe in yourself
For you and your image
Is god
Their is no god but you 
And all around you
Love nature respect
Humanity 
Live not with greed 
For your soul not 
To be lost to vanity 
On and on
Above all
Love life for
Life is love
Love is life
As you live with 
This principles 
You always live
Now as each
New day comes a
Better days

Oh better days
Can't be with out
The best of today


Details | Africa Poem | |

Natural Instinct

         Three Sonnets tell a story, in sequence.
[From the narrative poem, "Don't Go to Wyoming Alone"]

         I. Natural Instinct  (Chivalric Sonnet)

He saves a wad of cash and designates
the stash to finance trek in far-off land
in hunting boots and custom gun he built 
for me with love and hope for trophy grand.

"Is this a trip I've dreamed about?" I ask.
"Can I enjoy the hunt, savor the kill?"
I contemplate the danger in that land -
will heat, dry thirst and bugs defeat my will?

Might this be atmosphere I cannot stand?
Excitement builds as I heft gun with ease
and find the answer soon on target range
as my bull's eye displays my expertise.

Though I have no inborn instinct to kill,
my reason tells me not to waste this skill.

               II. Lost Vacation  

Our trip is planned, we'll soon be on our way,
he's called and found the perfect spot to stay.
The husband leads you out to hunt the wild
as room is cleaned, clothes pressed, wife cooks gourmet.

Alas, things change, his current bent is new.
While Mom and I go west without a clue
he flies the skies to satisfy desire
from Air Force days where first the hunger grew.

But circumstance forced him to stay aground,
our funds were tight and kept him budget bound.
Since children now are wed and off the corn
he's free to choose to play or bum around.

When we return from trek out west by train,
he's spent vacation cash to buy a plane.




              III. New Dimension (Couplet Sonnet)

What fun we've had in years of golden age
as we, in freedom's row, our thirsts assuage.

We climb above the ground in utter glee
and view the earth below from Cherokee.

We join a pilot's group and meet new friends.
We travel now as time and space portends.

Each time we fly we bring two more because
two empty seats invite our friend's' applause.

But soon we build a smaller home down south.
I close my ears as words come out his mouth,

"The plane's for sale, I need a tractor now
to plow off snow and grade the road."  It's how

our trip to Africa, in quickened time,
became a tractor.  Surely, that's a crime.



Details | Africa Poem | |

Why the Rose Bled

Parents so proud Four sons they raised From the Highlands of Scotland In the pre-war days On their crofts they worked Morning till night Unknown to them then Of a future fight The Germans have invaded A country so free Poland was taken The world shaken visually Britain declares war As our men enlist To rid the enemy As the fighting shifts Europe's engulfed In a feverish war Many are dying To comprehend what for The four brothers Sign up to fight As a mother will pray Every night Campaigns they fight In these theatres of war Witnessing horrors Never seen before In their garden at home On the family crofts A bed of roses With petals so soft Then one day With a passing glance A pink rose dripping red In deathly stance Their mother turns To the gate she looks Telegram in hand From the postman she took With trembling hands She opens with care Upon reading the message In tear laden stare Their eldest son In Africa was lost As many many others Deaths global cost Every day As she passes the rose It's pink petals bloom Her tomorrow's fear grows .

Details | Africa Poem | |

SASSY AND FINE

Sister girl 
African pearl
Such finesse
So much, you have to give.
Yes, you are beautiful!

Are you paying attention to me?
Nile I am.
Dark and handsome man and confident…

For the love of God
In this real world
Never have I 
Ever exploded with deep words of lust!

Sophisticated woman
After thoughts
Savoring your body
Suc-cor your tongue
Young and free!
	
Affixed to your smile
Nectar
Depths of passion!

Feel me
Indigo blue
Nice fit on you
Enriched this day!

Such words of desire
Ask you to be a part of my life.
So real to happiness
Seductive I am.
Yearn for me!

Apex to
New elevations for
Deep sensations!

Finding each other is not a sure coincidence.
Inspire by other elements
Nadirs we are not.
Essence we are.
__________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 27, 2014!
FORM: TRIPLE ACROSTIC

Details | Africa Poem | |

While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.

Details | Africa Poem | |

Wake Up Oh Africa

With the heavy load you suffer a substance not needed yet drags you cushioning your efforts and deterring your pace, forgetting that the Train is already moving with passengers determined for this journey. Why get so distracted by passers-by focused to catch up? Why are you tossed side to side, putting you each time, a step backwards? Can't you realize that the Train is already moving with passengers determined for this journey? It seems you are the only one left and this is solely your doing with no one to blame and the rest, definitely have no added advantage over you. So stop acting weak cos the Train is already moving with passengers determined for this journey. Wake up oh Africa! you get your independence just to become a volunteer slave. You live in a Mansion yet have no place to sleep. Stop acting like a bucket of Crabs killing each other just to get out and copy the ants united and networking for a common cause. You fight for just a coin underneath the Table. When on it is a box full of this same treasure. Despite knowing how to reach out to its top, you neglect such knowledge and accept conflicts, violence and wars. Settling for good enough is worst than being bad you blow your trumpet when you make a step out of a thousand more. You show unbelievable contentment to mediocrity and under-achievements, but remember this! Half a giant is no giant at all. You have the breast plate of protection and all the arsenals to battle yet you dine with the helms of poverty and embrace the ambassadors of all kinds of infirmities. You walk around naked and seem not to bother oh Africa! Do you exist to actualize all these negativity? An expert of imitation and a professional in copying no wonder no matter your trys you end up as number 2 at best. Because you've neglected the sweetness of your originality. You milk your cattle to nourish the west you harvest your crops to feed foreign stomachs you stand on abundant humus yet your leaves are yellow and dry. Exactly what will happen to the ants if their Queen puts their fate on the lizards is what will befall you not until you wake up oh Africa!

Details | Africa Poem | |

TO

DAY

Details | Africa Poem | |

Princess Fairy Silver


In the land of Jasmine Valley
Lived a fairy of repute
Her glow was of soft silver
And she lived among the fruit
Of the Roses and the peaches
And her beauty was renowned
Wherever folk did speak of love
Her name it could be found.

Yet fairy silver {That’s her name}
She could not speak at all
For a wicked witch it seems
Had treated her real cruel
And placed a nasty curse on her
Which made her voice go mute
She was a wicked witch indeed
There‘s none that would refute.

She was loved by all around her
For love was all she knew
The wild beasts gathered round her
And all the flowers knew
Of the loveliness within her
It made them want to grow
You should have seen that fairy
With her lovely, silver glow.

One day an Elfin gentleman
Came riding on a steed
A beast of purest, pristine white
Of a strong and noble breed.
He was a handsome man indeed
A Prince among his folk
And always laughed with all his subjects
With them he’d share a joke.

One day he spotted Fairy Silver
She was there among her flowers
The Elfin Prince he gazed at her
And felt such benign power
That strong compulsion overtook him
He Kissed her on the cheek
So then this lovely fairy maid
She made as if to speak.

As she did this such sweet music came
And flowed from her sweet lips
The Fairy she burst forth with song
The Elf’s soft heart just flipped
He asked the Fairy “Oh maid of beauty
Oh please do marry me”.
She looked into his deep blue eyes
He felt such ecstasy.

And now the two, they live together
For they be man and wife
The princes speaks her words of beauty
In a land so free from strife
As the two they rule the elfin Lands
And the two lands come together
And peace and harmony do reign
As the two they love forever.

Details | Africa Poem | |

Tiara in Her

This picture I pick is not her own,
It could be for a bimbo or a night trig. 
This picture with me is not her own,
It could be for a sissy or a bleaching wig.
This picture I hold is not her own,
It could be for a lousy or a neglected lass.
This picture with me is not her own,
It could be for a demon or a girlie class.

This picture I pick is no doubt her own,
It's obvious in her spotless face and her passionate grin.
This picture with me is really her own,
It's obvious in her modest crown and her sincere chin.
This picture I hold is no doubt her own,
It's obvious in her ideal stroll with her gorgeous rose.
This picture with me is really her own,
It's obvious in her charming blouse and her classy pose.



Details | Africa Poem | |

Black Poem

Bang, bang, bang, black minds open,
Black eyes seeing black blood spluttering on the black board,
Black tears from black eyes,
Black man in black out,
Black people eating black berries,
Black for black market, black magic, black eyes, black etc,
Black is everything bad,
Black is abused everywhere,
Black people now the black sheep,
And yet I am the black poet,
Reciting black poetry.


Details | Africa Poem | |

OutKast----

 
"Conceive true deception multiplied a million fold
 visualize the yin and yang in a battle so intense
 that we get em confused
 the resident evil specialize in misconstruing

 We wanna be at a presidential level -- what are we doing?
 foolin' ourself, clownin ourself, playin ourself
 by not bein ourself

 We can`t babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
 Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can`t get our meat
 while we ask no reason for the misplacement of the season
 look at the picture that`s painted
 tainted as the mind who`s blinded to the point
 where Sodomites get all the rights
 we fall for fights with fisticuffs
 get pissed enough to miss the bus

 It disgusts me to see my folks run up on
 I say stand up on deception of time all of Revelations
 and recognize this mind on the reality of horror
 known as mankind

 Jesus and his twelve disciples make thirteen
 A righteous number of righteous men
 even Judas the Betrayer came true in the end
 the Devil says the end is the beginning
 they teach that we were the product of incest

 Invest no level of self into their system of Paganomics
 stand with us and don`t look back upon it
 just face this mind state
 
Otherwise Babylon..."








~this is to get Ruben Bailey's WuRdz to a new audience.   a true STREET POET, Soothsayer

Details | Africa Poem | |

Teach them young

Teach them the songs of the land.
Teach them the rhythm of life.
Teach them the strength of the past,
That they may appreciate the beauty of the future. 
Children of today, nations of tomorrow.
They have the right to know and believe in the unity of life.
Teach them to know that all men and women are not just nor truthful.

Let them know that for every mean and selfish people, there are honest, generous and dedicated ones.
Teach them the power of the spirit of sportsmanship, to enjoy winning and as well accept losing when it comes.
Teach them that a dime earned is to be valued far more than a thousand stolen. 
Teach them to rejoice in each others successes rather than envy. Teach them to have faith in God and to believe in themselves.
Remind them never to forget that they are masterpieces of the Creator, and none can replace the other.
Please, don’t forget to teach them that it is more honorable to fail than to cheat, and there is no shame in tears.

Teach them the difference between the real world and the world in the pages of magazines, movie screens and television. 
Teach them the enduring powers of patience and kindness.
Teach them the endless powers of love and forgiveness.
Expose them to verities of colors of life and remind them to look beyond
skin colors to appreciate the blood of life.
Teach them the importance of a smile in the dark tunnels of life.
Teach them to be simple and truthful to themselves and to keep there distance from drugs.

Teach them to be respectful of life and elders that they may be respected.
Teach them our mother’s songs; tell them where we are, where we have been, where we are going and they will lead the way. 

Details | Africa Poem | |

More About Rain

The great Serengeti's broad 
face lies in the African sun, 
dry, weathered, cracked, 
thirsty for the season.s tears

Storm clouds gather on her 
brow like an old lady's curls
Promises, promising
An empty promise

...The rains are too late
The children of the Serengeti 
lie down on her dusty bosom, 
never to rise again
A desperate waiting fills the 
air

At last, a single drop of rain 
falls on the delicate skin of 
the vast plain, then another 
and another

There but for an instant, 
before it vanishes into the 
scorched earth

Another drop, then ten, then 
dozens, then hundreds, until 
the broad face that is the 
Serengeti smears through the 
downpour
 
Watering holes fill and 
breach, streams and rivers run 
like locomotives 

Mysterious fish pop out of the 
mud
Sweet grasses leap up in the 
night 

Yesterday the majestic 
canvas was devoid of life 
Today, overflowing, a palette 
gorged with color and life… 

the cycle begins anew
The Serengeti awakes! 


Details | Africa Poem | |

Struggle of a Black Child

As a black child
At the beginning were birth pangs
That welcomed my checkered existence
My childhood was full of struggles
That became my birthmarks.
Like every other tyke of my kind
That attended schools where blacks were minority
Chronicles of Western myths became stories I ever knew
Legends of untold black heroes were left in the rear seat of history
Where pages of surviving tales were rouletted and turned into dots
And slots left in my mind turned tabula rasa.

As a black child
Struggles became songs I sang
At school I knew no friends
I stood a distance far from their feet
History books of black legends were my companions
Every page I read became a scar
Tears I shaded were words I ever spoke
Pains became air I inhaled
Anger became gas I belched
My words became brusque
No one understood when I spoke.

As a black child
I refused to be docile
I challenged every smirk of my tormentors
I never buckled under the tensions to change who I was
I was a unique mold from the kind of clay that made my kind;
Never easily washed out
My strength was in my black power.
I wasn’t alone in that wilderness of unknown history
What I faced other black teens faced
In unison our voices roared
We got the audience we needed!

As a black child
My passion burned into my hearts
It glowed like a phoenix that never dies
The embers never burnt out of the inglenook.
The stars became our stepping ladder
We sold the hard-to-sell thoughts no one was willing to buy
Tales of unsung legends on the lips of many
The struggles we conquered became the shining armour
That silhouetted against our destinies
Who I am, I cannot change;
A black child, transuding the dark aged slim path of life;
A Struggle that glues past, present and future.

Details | Africa Poem | |

ON THE FRINGE

Your eyes drink the hues of the Shisha Lounge:
art on walls and art brewing over charcoal.
This coffee ceremony is on the fringe,
far from the pallid and staid. I’ve marveled

at these dear blends, how culture can transcend 
barriers and ignorance. We order too much.
Tibsy, zignie, timtimo.. injera bends 
to each spiced delicacy as our plates touch. 

Gone is this haven where pleasure was shared.
Still, I’ll bring you there. Scribe, man of integrity,
sit with me. Exhale poetry. Imbibe tribal air. 
Mine, this moment and mine, this memory

but that mystifying brew, that receptive floor,
the smoke refined by deep respect… each are yours.  








Details | Africa Poem | |

APPLES ON OUR ROCK

There once reigned a great king on our Rock
Who dared the West and defied their bloc
Dark shades, face of a frown
Short brute so wanted down
Down, oriental appples on our Rock.

Details | Africa Poem | |

The Cost of Freedom

The cost of freedom has increased, the price went up.
It takes alot to be free, but the price is love.
And the PRIZE is love.
Not saying you have to sing; kumbaya around a fiery ring,
but voices and rainbow hands will raise high to the night sky
as we shake off shackles and chains
and they slide down
and wrap around
the original drum,
which beats and sings out song that'll never fall from the tongue.
It clicks shut, complete with lock and key.
And we are poor slaves joining hands with empty pockets 
and shackled hearts.
The cost of freedom has increased,
which is why when we form our ring,
there's a low drum beating in the dark.

Details | Africa Poem | |

Rooster's Call

What can I say other than that I’m bound, bound by the rooster’s call. A clarion call of divine arrangement, calling me to duty and so with my water gourd well balanced on my head, I make my way to the river. The leaves dripping water from dew of the night before, annoying flies perching on my nostrils as if they are caves to seek warmth. Happy faces, happy voices, happy people going to and fro with their water gourds well balanced on their heads sharing dreams of night before and plans of the ahead.
My water gourd clutched to my ribs protecting them from morning cold. I look around to see the best spot to fetch from as gourds clutter and water swishing and splashing, mud everywhere. The trees bowing in obeisance to the river which keeps pulling away with royal dignity, not to be touched by the green leaves. Oh proud crystal river! The trees bearing green leaves adorned with yellow, burgundy and purple flowers only want to show gratitude for your support!

There it was
Looking at me
My favourite spot





October 7th, 2013

Details | Africa Poem | |

The Chaos of Us

You  look  at  me  and       I   g e  t     l    o    s     t
You look lost               
                      You STAND before me in lust
                      I lay down below you in love
 
 I talk  too much.............. 
                    I      l   o   n   g  for  you to listen 
                                   Instead I hear a DEAFENING silence                                                               
You  stutter a  staccato..    s i g h
 
   We volunteer play pretend prisoners....... s e e k i n g
To    navigate   stay     captivated……     until      
               Escaping through a [hidden] trap door    
 Freedom forfeits reason and the ransom that was you and me
 
                  ‘he’ stands before ‘she’
                        Misunderstanding “me”

  She lies she forgets                     The truth he remembers
 
           The news about us
                         Rewinds as we watch….
              You preview a forecast.... de je vous….......
                                                Pause.. my predictions - press replay
 
I will not harden my heart-sow the seeds to soften your soul
 
                    You    rescue    me   -    I        save          you

The   danger   in   you   deploys  the  safety   in   me

           And then finally you see…………………………
                               you finally see                                       me.....

Details | Africa Poem | |

REVOLUTION BABY

 REVOLUTION BABY


Am from the backseats of mean streets
I got my eye aiming the Wall Street
They said education is the key
I wonder why they made it expensive for we,
Am sitting around hood rats,
Gangsters and Ex- prisoners
Sniffing, snatching, stuffing stuff
Mama expects a lawyer, a doctor, a mayor,
Newsflash!
We are in the middle of a crisis
Am the original copy of a son-of-a-gun
I define the odds
I believe to break a law,
Is to make a road
You go east or west,
Home is still the best
But with a bullet in your chest
Don’t mess with these streets
They will give you a free ride to hell
Pot and crack do rounds all over,
It’s a mess,
I am needed, you are needed,
We are needy
Damn!
We are in a man eat man generation
You either survive or succumb
There’s a billion ways to die,
Choose one,
It’s time for a change,
Change of perspectives,
Change of attitude,
Change of behavior
Let’s get out of our comfort zone,
Coz that’s what’s drowning us,
We need a change
Change for the better
It’s revolution time!!