Best Black African Amerhope Poems
Dimed hope and shaded minds coloured by the blood washed from the street
Corners where our children carelessly play.
Broken bones and shattered dreams no sunny days in this part of the border.
Echoes of uhuru shake the ground but we dare not whisper ubuntu here, for
We are not terrorists but victims and inhabitants of where terror is.
Gun fires are but common songs we all haste to dance to, with our souls moving
To each shot…..we never fail to miss a beat.
We know too well what it means to say Ou baas and call another man “master”
Whilst enslaving our beings for his amusement our minds remain free, barely.
Each day’s hope died with the one before the struggle for our liberation lies
Entirely in our mental emancipation. Here we are standing upon the ground our
Ancestors were robbed of and all we can think of is the size of our wallets.
I remember a time when we chanted uhuru with the Congolese and we were one
As Africans. Now here they stand staring at our border fence that clouds their minds,
And shatters their hearts till all they can do is question the, genuineness of our past.
I remember when strangers were my brother and we found comfort in our unity.
Now nepotism is a language we know too well who is he, he is clearly not pedi, go
Your way pedi’s only here.
BEE, black equality equated to selective oppression so we are forced to question are
We really free? Our forefathers chucked spears and our fathers clinged tenaciously to
Those rifles yet here we are and all I am to you is a door man, where is my democracy?
I still sing our freedom songs hoping you might remember what we were truly fought for.
And even as we are fading away like the true essence of our history I long for my child
To know in depth what we stand for as a country and my role in the building of a great nation.
those who hope for hope-after an eternity-are entiled to do so
only if they have measured that which has the power to absure hope
only if they have lived in the shadow of utter denial
after time a weariness like molten lead begins to settle in the veins and the brain
a germ of hope stays alive in your heart
you would rather prefer to disbelieve than acknowledge
trying to pursuade the world the stories they hear aren't true but they are
the journey will be not be quick
if you never inhabitated the innermost circle of hell you can never know what its like there
your dreams turned into nightmares
daughters of a man born into slavery and produced by a woman of mixed race
born free but vaguly remembers what it meant to be colored children in the ninteenth century
growing up sheltered privilged status
harlem
james weldon johnson cab colleway
an era which hearth and home defined a women's place
have the times really changed has our way of thinking
Along this road
the struggles are hard
hope is razor thin
Cocaine is stop signs
preventing many from moving ahead
diamonds and gold became blinders
keeping children from seeing their potential
Being so far down
it hurts to look up
struggling just yo make through today
Prisons have become today's cotton fields
in this world I live hope is hard
many seek drugs to kill the pain
having mothers hooked on drugs
Looking at pictures
knowing bad out weigh the good
drinking liquor to stomach the things seen
Crooked police kill
but the stories are never told
one day hope will vanish