Africa

Poet: Ken Jordan Poem: Africa Edited by: Sparkle Jordan written: February/1990            Africa, I see Africa,             land of my people's birth -             I see tribes, tribes              of my people from villages             hither and yon - Kikuyus,               Swahilian's, Yorubas,                Ibos,  Zulu's                and so on - sing'n in Kwa               and Bantu - The lingo of              my black roots -            I hear flute's sweetly whistl'n              from the lungs of brave black               warriors - play'n muzak               near their abode -               I hear drums slapp'n from                the hands of the old -                from the hands of the young -                I hear oceans old Africa's ocean,               voicing out her soul with rhythm                like the tribal  dance                of a proud and beautiful                people - And ships,......(sigh)               I see ships, strange unfamiliar                ships - storm'n in from                sea - and guns                yes I hear guns shoot'n over                the Congo, and Kwando -                 For he is here, the white man                 has reached  the land                 of my ancestors birth -                 He brought shackles, whips,                 chains and nets to catch                 and enslave  the hearts of Africa                  O'Lord, O'Lord I see tears - a river of tears                  roll'n down the aisles of my past -                 and the children of Africa,                 will never be the same - He handcuffed us                 to the belly of the ship, and brought us to America,                 the land they call the free -                  We as black people are not free -                  I see Africa the mother of my                  people's birth -