Africa Poems | Examples of Africa Poetry

The Masked Ghoul Mr. CinChief Fear mongering and peddling crude dirt politics Is his favorite tool of trade at as this moment... The one they do call time and again Our able leader One who hides behind vain smiles And assurances of half ridden truths With cleverly disguised yesterday’s lies Carefully disguised as today’s half-truths Has mesmerized the ignoramus masses Into believing that...

Continue reading...

My great grandfather sighed in heaven As I told my son the story As told by my father as he was told About how wealthy his father was before them. Daddy, he says, something is on my mind You said great grandpa was rich and kind But he never went to school at all How did he build a life so...

Continue reading...

I was beaten in school for speaking Themne my own tongue a melody they called a wrong note. I ran to my father for comfort but he looked away called me foolish for not knowing the world had changed. I knelt beneath the old tree offering thanks for rain and harvest they said I was lost praying to shadows and myths. I wore my lion skin...

Continue reading...

The Stars Above Are made with love Those shining things That bling Diamonds pearls Those certain curls That send our world Into a special dream The taste that pleases The help That eases The surety Of a mothers love The trust That waits The welcome space Waiting up above...

Continue reading...

Heaven Is Not Segregated...

Continue reading...

With the fiery wick of my candle I add my intention to my heart Every crossroads I walk on are clear for me The path is clear no pebble to tumble on No blockage on the road with the fiery wick of my candle I add my intention to my heart Every crossroads I walk on are clear for me The...

Continue reading...

my mind's a plane that takes off slow drifting where I don't even know while teachers talk and clocks just tick I'm floating past the classroom thick I see colors no one else can see places where I just want to be a secret world inside my head where nothing's boring, nothing's dead sometimes it feels like I'm awake but really, I'm on a...

Continue reading...

My Trauma Wears Crocs My trauma wears Crocs— bright yellow, with stickers peeling off. It doesn’t care how serious you want life to look. It clomps into therapy, kicks its feet, asks if there’s snacks. It’s loud at the wrong time, laughs when I’m crying, sits beside me on the floor and says, “We’re not going anywhere, are we?” I thought healing would wear silk. Turns out,...

Continue reading...

I have never tasted your full lips, which lack a moisturizing tip. Yet, I somehow feel as if I have. I watched you break that fresh loaf of bread, and you said to me, “You are welcome.” Somehow, I could have tasted and smelled the freshness of that small piece you offered. I felt nourished. Your...

Continue reading...

What truly is power Is it control or the silence that follows it? Is it born from bullets and broken promises Or from the love we dismiss as weakness? Can power ever be shared like bread split between hungry Sudanese hands as if leadership were a meal the poor can taste in equal halves? Or is power what poisons the soil the reason Sudanese...

Continue reading...

Lovingly lauded.. they marauded.. rightly applauded Saffa gaffers did thrill Willow wielding wizards of Oz Yielding…lampooned..marooned..jaffas Festooned spill just like Seville . Must remember..the ember burning Yearning of Temba Bavuma Kept his sense of humour Despite being the victim of flimsy whimsy Many a nasty rumour I implore you to ignore the tumour That is Michael Vaughan…dim..grim Pompous pig or obnoxious prig Having a...

Continue reading...

I have heard of it before, but I never knew what it was until I walk through the door, I thought it was a wood made of special ink and it cast a strange dye in the sky and it tells you when you are going to die, but that theory is not true because...

Continue reading...

Ladies worth are in the kitchen, But this generation, Gen Z sold them out to men. What's the logic? Human can't live without food, Yet ladies worth are now in men custody, Because men in charge of the kitchen You may ask, why am I so proud? It's because that's what I worked hard for. I'm proud of my craft, my worth,...

Continue reading...

My old horse I had been into town Horse and cart Bought two bags of chicken fodder Going back to the farm, there are a few steep hills The horse stopped, and I got out of the cart Help pushing I was 12 years old at the time But the horse was proud of me ...

Continue reading...

When you die you may be burnt better than those that Zionists burn alive you may be buried in the soil of the universe at best may you come back as a blooming rose giving hope to all who admire the beauty of natures mystic gifts ...

Continue reading...