I have seen the black face of his Kenyan father
With whom he didn’t go farther:
an absolutely Black Papa
Describing not the Diaspora Rappa,
His loudest trumpets for Jomo,
As Barak’s nearly were for The Homo:
Safer A self –reclaiming returnee
Than an ever groping escapee:
Better Kenya’s social leper
Than an American on paper
And heard have I of his unique white mama,
Who wouldn’t the flame surrender to coma,
Rockier getting than Nigerian’s Zuma
And quite the cougar of America’s Puma…
All that for fanciful catchers of History
And zestful peddlers of exciting mystery,
For say it I still
A-top our tallest hill:
The guy was all along full American,
To his boxers so, less Republican
His returns of cheers completely Un African
Ascents of staircases for the Mexican
His oscillating heard during speeches
Electric fan-perfect, no breaches…
Abort this try to find out
And –please- don’t fail to shout:
Ex-president Barrack Hussein
Lost only to the American smoking sin.
Barack Obama and Donald Trump
By Franklin Price
11/10/2016
Barack Obama and Donald Trump
The president and pres elect
Got together at the Whitehouse
For presidential retrospect
Never had they met before
Had slammed each other quite a lot
Must talk now of transition
Forget about the fight they fought
Rise above their personage
The U.S. they must lead
Personal opinions put behind them
Office of president to heed
Respect the office Obama's in
And Trump is going to
For the latter's going to figuratively
Wear the former's working shoe
First meeting an example
Of how things ought to be
Both men were presidential
At least it looked that way to me
Red ,dark barracks,is where fight meet
Can you stand in spite of retreat?
You can't see the youngster near the
Monster,thus his power on the mighty
Tower
When they go out of fear,they still
Need the use of gear,so
When the time comes,life will
One day be like drums
The barracks are a station of will,
And the act of drill
From that comes the conclusion ,the
Fact of a barrack
Mr Barrack Hussein Obama
Has a dog Bo as his karma
On his proposed election tour
He’ll be in front for sure
Barack cool as a schooner in wind
Anchored his vision to the sky
Rinse the blue and uncloud his mind
Rose up sweetly, bloom to defy
Ancient customs screening light
Callous suppositions on human rights
Kindle a candle on his bow
Omniscient one, keep this orison for him
Black as the night but better to show
Africa's star on the Atlantic brim
Mending fences, sweeping pretenses away
Allow him to bring his cargo into bay.
Cumbersome,
Shut off from the world around you,
Trying to escape the deceit.
Apathetic,
Knowing that you can’t hide from it,
Accepting the pain as your own.
Ambivalent,
Should I create or destroy,
Trapped in an endless sea of hypocrisy.
Imprisoned,
Looking at the walls around you,
Trying to pry the cement from your cell bars.
Exhaustion,
Too broken to get yourself back up,
And too jaded to care.
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