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 -
Copyright © Ken Jordan | Year Posted 2014
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