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Best Poems Written by Mafata Dunbar

Below are the all-time best Mafata Dunbar poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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I Don'T Even Know

He left with all mine confidence

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Hypocrite

I consider myself one of the biggest hypocrites of them all. I rejoice in sisterhood and celebrate black love and all.I like and re-post BLACKLIVESMATTERS post on my wall
but it's doesn't really matter if I cheer my sisters on at all or sing along to Beyonce's Formation in awe or wear Dashiki printed tops and go natural to find my roots, that i lost or preach about; wars, injustice , crimes and the death toll or try harder to represent my power as well as Rosa Park and refuse to move out of my confront zone or fight for my rights like Angela Davis or free my mind like Harriet Tubman did with them 'slaves' or fight for my blackness like sister Nina Simone or be reckless and fight white supremacy as Assata Shakur with the ideology of the Black Panther Party or celebrate Dr. Malcolm X as much as they shadily only celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King on his day. So why did my heart hurt when Ebola suspiciously broke out in the west of my mother's land, that was a genocide believe it or not, how you cure a white man but my brother ended up dying. I consider myself one of  the biggest  hypocrite of them all, if i so much loved my sisters or black love then why did the paper bag test, determine my perception of beauty or why does the media make me hate a sister darker than me.

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War

War is a very bad thing, let me 
tell you. It does not only take 
away your family and childhood,  
it stole my hopes and dreams 
as well.

 For as long as I could 
remember, war was part of my 
history. Like music to my ears 
was gun shots waking me up 
every morning, reminding me 
that I wasn't wanted; dead 
bodies surrounding me, 
reminding me that life wasn't as 
important as i thought. Rebels 
shooting innocent people, 
killing, reminding me that 
justice was dead along with 
those. As long as I could 
remember war was part of my 
history. 

I remember walking 
from cities to cities, one country 
to another with big bags on 
my head. I remember looking 
for somewhere to sleep,  
anywhere , where the water 
wasn't full with dead bodies and 
justice still lived. Unfortunately 
there was no such place in 
Liberia because as long as I 
could remember war was part of 
my history...

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Refugees

To be called a refugee is one 
thing but to be ask why you're a 
refugee is the hardest question 
to answer.

Mafata.D

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Tumu

I have travelled miles and miles, from cities to cities. In each town I try to find something like you, for a while I did, however it lacked your smile, that annoying laugh you make when you are happy, the look you give me  when I get mad at you . I definitely found something; I found myself, I learnt to love myself , don't get me wrong, I always had myself, and you loved me to the moon and back and everyday you showed me that through your actions, I just needed to see myself from my own eyes, rather than through yours, I just needed to know I could make it on my own and that you was there by choice. For a while It felt good, I felt content and I didn't think I needed you. I found my thoughts, my heart didn't skip beats as often as it did and my mind was clear, I could think and I didn't think I needed you. I wasn't that little school girl who would run to you or stand behind the door just to scare you with a BOO then hug you when you got scared or pass out laughing on the floor, which ever one came first. I wasn't that girl that looked to you to lead the way, that girl that always throw shade at your big head. I wasn't that girl you taught countless hours how to drive and ways to trick myself into studying to get them good marks. I travel through countries looking for something to restore my strength to build myself but I forgot that I left you behind.

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Liberia My Home

Australian by paper
Liberian by blood
Liberia is my motherland 
Liberia in my round hips   
that they criticis of not being 
worthy of "beauty".
Liberia in my big lips
that will forever speak the truth .
Liberia in my ways
Liberia is my ways
They will tell you my country is 
bad, it's dangerous, they even 
make the mistake of saying 
"Africa" is a poor and disgusting 
country, forgetting to know its a 
damn continent with beautiful 
and extraordinary countries. 
You can't fool me with your 
"white ways", I'm a native 
daughter of the most beautiful 
land, I value my culture, it runs 
through my vines...

lah a there oo
by: Mafata Dunbar

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The Dark Sun

Love me, when the sun goes down because 
thats when the darkness arrives.

Mafata.D

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He Tried To Love Me But I Was Too Broken

You question why I am so scared  
Because I have climbed on to the backs of
men who couldn't carry me
I worship at the feets of men who 
only worshiped my body
I have fed men who left me empty
I have watched men danced at the gaze 
of my attention only to walk away

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Self Love

No man will ever fully be with a woman who 
isnt with herself.


Mafata.D

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The Right Way

If you are not going to love me right don't 
love me at all.

Mafata. D