Best Black African Poems


Premium Member Stars and Those With Stripes

"America First",
is the worst.
Should not thinking of others,
be your thirst?
Those who are selfish,
end up being cursed!
Soon they'll be last,
instead of first.

Who among you,
prefers guns and war?
Do you really have freedom,
shore to shore?
If most have less,
are you happy with more?
Should the privileged few,
be guarding the door?
Protectionism,
rots you to the core.
In the end,
you won't know who it's for?

What does it mean,
to be "Great Again"?
I'll listen to learn,
try your best to explain!
Were there fields of cotton and sugarcane?
Was it back of the bus perfect,
everyone staying in their own lane?
A pain striped passport,
for those on the soul train.
If you know the truth,
please speak it plain.
I want to find great,
I've wracked my brain.
Whose America are you trying to regain?

Premium Member Shattering Rose Coloured Glasses

Uncomplicated me
I thought I was colour blind
free thinking and kind
with an evolved mind
Loving and accepting 
of the ones I find

Yet my blindness 
Is that of privilege
I'm just a visitor
in the Global village
From my narrow thin mind
there is too much spillage

Although so many
are forced from their homes
My life seems carefree 
I am deaf to the groans
Brown women wearing veils
that can't protect them from stones

I live in a white washed place
No "Freedom Marches"
for men of a different race
Yet, if I look back and trace
there are darker stories to face
We all took part in shameful things
Yes, we share in the disgrace.

Highways of tears
Rivers of shame
There's always 
someone else to blame
Residential schools
Each child got a new name
They were forced to forget
the place from where they came

Prisons filled
with black and red skinned men
They can't forget
this now or that then
Promises and promises
but who how and when
Or will their children
have to live it all over again

So yes
No longer colour blind
With the opening of my mind
I let colour seep in
Starting somewhere different
today I  begin
Because I know
it shouldn't be
just the privileged who win!

Premium Member Black Poetry Day

My black is majestic my black is smooth
Even when I was banished from public pool
Even if I was portrayed black face fool
I was a raven flying above you.

I am much more than kinky hair
Thick thighs brown eyes and ebony stare
I am the truth if you want or dare
Take my hand and I’ll take you there.

Black is deeper than had been enslaved
Nothing weaker than to steal me away
From my history where I am great
From times mystery of healing faith

October 17th we celebrate
All black poets on black poetry day
You don’t have to know it that you are a poem
written by spirit, fruit of the loin strong.

Most of us poets are not well known
In our hearts we find gem stone home
For literacy and for fuchsia full blown
Purple royal words we call our own.
Form: Rhyme


Who Am I

I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
© Humble B  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Each Day Takes Its Turn

Standing firm 
we live 
we give 
we take 
we learn 
we strive to make sure 
each day enlightens us 
and brightens us
even as light fades to gray 
may we keep fighting 
with two swollen feet
beneath the body and soul 
experiencing trials 
and intense life lessons 
meshed with stresses 
may we persevere 
turn off  fear's song 
may we stand firm 
as we glide along 
through shifty winds of change 
that may cause things to sway
rearrange
but we hold true
inside the values and morality
we stand for 
we
fall for nothing 
we
may stumble along the trip 
we 
may swerve at the wheel yet 
we 
do not lose our grip
because no one 
can eclipse the sun 
yet
everyone heals 
before they're done

Just when situations arise 
flooding us with pain we despise
and just when it seems like
our tear ducts are dry 
from ongoing cries
we may think 
things are on the brink of ending
then God shows us the ways of faith
by way of love that he's sending

Standing firm 
we live 
we give 
we take 
we learn 
we make sure 
every day enlightens us 
and brightens us 
as each day takes its turn. 

~JSLambert

Rise Up

Rise Up

Rise up to the blessing of another day.
To all that awaits you this moment.
To all that will challenge you and enlighten you.
 
Rise up to the opportunity to live in your truth and appreciate the truth of others.
To make a difference and matter to those in your path and to those you never noticed.
 
Be awakened by the joys of opportunities both sought after and placed before you.
Rise up to the choices that you have the freedom to make and take delight in being the vessel to enforce them.
 
Embrace your beauty, your strength, and most importantly, your flaws.
Be courageous when faced with adversity and smile when you’ve conquered the impossible.
 
Rise up to your fears and shortcomings and face them with the belief that you are not the only one; you are never alone.
There is so much turmoil in the world today.  Be that small ripple in the water that becomes the huge wave of hope and positive change.
Be that spark that ignites into a blaze of restoration.
 
Rise up to the responsibility of reminding our youth that they are royalty and should conduct themselves as such.
With the dignity and respect which is needed to be a part of resolutions and not part of our demise.
 
Although life has a way to often break us down, we must rise up to the realities of our destiny.
We cannot be broken.  Our spirit cannot waiver.  Our souls have been fortified with ancestry that embodied perseverance, power, and the will to praise God.

RISE UP KINGS
RISE UP QUEENS

We are backed by our foundation of greatness and all that we are facing in the world today is our foundation of inspiration and purpose.

We must be inspired every day to simply and deliberately RISE UP!


Sweetest Love Note

One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Oneness

Oneness
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.

There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.

Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically 
It wasn't here or there and it was.

With no distinction, 
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.

It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.

In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.

The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."

Differences exist for differences, 
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.

DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.  
www.gandhiking.ning.com
© Chuck Keys  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Can We

Be quiet quiet quiet 
Shush shush shush
We’ve spoken too much
We haven’t listened enough

Black men and women
It’s not easy to be brave
Oppression and inequality 
make you feel like a slave

Your struggles are constant
Beyond what we realize
What we take for granted
Should be a right not a prize

Stand tall men of principal
take to the streets
Chant Black Lives Matter
Share your beliefs 

We’ll be quiet quiet quiet
Shush shush shush 
We’ve spoken too much
We haven’t listened enough

Change shoulda come
So long before today
Our river of cruelty 
is still on display

Brother Malcom X
Joined with Muhammad Ali
Their life force and bodies
Cried out for humanity 

Then Sam Cooke sang to us
“Brother help me please”
So why are his people
 knocked back on their knees?

Jim Brown broke boundaries 
While playing on uneven ground 
Later movie star and activist
Why has his voice had no sound?

So yes be quiet quiet quiet
Shush shush shush
We’ve spoken too much
We haven’t listened enough  

I wrote this piece after watching “One Night in Miami”.

The struggle is real!
Form: Lyric

Premium Member This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy

He was skipping along, swinging his arms and laughing
At what I don't know.
His grandmother, lagging a few steps behind, was laughing at him I suppose.
And I thought to myself, she loves him, she does,
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
He stopped when he got to the corner and waited for me to turn right.
A smile crossed his lips,
As he waved at me - at me and my shabby old car.
And when I had passed him, he started to prance quite merrily on his way.
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
The confidence of youth flowed joyfully through him,
Just looking at him made me smile.
And you know what I did?  I pulled to the curb and parked my silly old car.
I watched for a while as he started to run and then charge on out of sight.
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
How old he was then, I'm really not sure, Maybe five, maybe six,
Not yet Seven.
But ageless his quest to embrace this life whatever might come his way.
A sadness crept into my heart just then for I knew life would never be fair to
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
It will be harder for him to be special.  The color of his skin will not help.
I wish I could be there
To tell him be careful, stay safe in this white man's domain.
But maybe the people he'll meet in his life will let him be just who he is
This Beautiful Brown Eyed Boy.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Love Boat

Indigo ink dreams
Dripping from heart
Tattoos tongue with kinetic kiss
Green electric buzz like sip
Of fine blueberry wine so sweet
Dreamy turquoise love touch
Filling me up with red desire
On fire for your romantic antic
Sweeping me off my feet
Carrying me with ease
Of a blue breeze to deserted love island 
Where tan sands caress like brown hands
White waters flow warm and toasty
Fast slow then in closing cold
Never let go of this love
For it floats like a boat

Premium Member Plenty of Time

We grasp shadows flow over magenta light
      in the crystal trails of tourmaline
      yes, both of us will leave.
                            to the celestial abeyance of pasty white
                            neon embers in starburst trim
                            for now, I'll stoop and write.

Let's have a nap beneath the towering redwoods
       we'll watch "forgets" fly with natural hammering
             together, let's find out how to solve the mystery
                     lyrical hues in lustrous iridescence.

                          We just shrug our shoulders and cheerfully
                          understand our linked introspection
                          here, in the peaks, where the sun shines
                          let's soar with the creative spirit of life.

                             Blew away the flushed, blushing bliss
                    on her whispering wings
          white fog rolls out onto the calm ocean
     which gathers the incoming stillness
a phosphorescent steeple is adorned.

                                           Strolling the fog-covered hills, gazing at the bay
                               let us sip moonbeams from the blazing lighthouse
                      sunlight swirled exotic zaffre mist in a ritzy haze
              enjoying the warmth and the water shimmer
       resting comfortably in a lovely night-line
  Damselflies rose to the lush sky's eerie sighs

               A hazy veil curves across huge terrains.
               sunlight sparkles on the winding river
               comfortable, long-drifting
               to the whispering rouge
               of a nuptial serenade
               only time matters.
               "There is time," she whispers
                                                     There will be plenty of time


Written: December 28, 2022

A Freed Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Golden Shovel Meets Blind Goddess of Justice

… after Langston Hughes


You know how they do. They say that  
we run, that we fit descriptions, but justice  
ain’t blind, she just sees who she wants. Is  
it any wonder we hold our breath? A  
body ain’t a body when they label it a threat. Blind  
fold her, watch her peek, call her a goddess.

Watch her drop the scales. Watch how balance is  
a myth chased between our nana’s prayers and a  
judge’s gavel. They got this thing  
for claiming fear while standing over bodies. To  
serve, to protect—who? Which  

way to run when history's got a knee pressed upon the we  
aried? Red light, blue light, a flash, a name gone black.  
Mothers wailing thru the street. We are
n’t new to this. My father knew. And his father wise. 

Still, she won’t look. Her 
hands steady but the bandage  
doesn’t stop her from peeking. It hides  
but we see it slip. MLK's two  
Americas on display. Wounds keep festering  
and this country born of scars and sores  

struts like a wayward siren. That  
same scream, same prayer, same fear. Once  
we thought time might change things. Perhaps  
we were fools to hope. Seems we were.  

Though standing here. Still, we look her in the eyes. 

###

A Slave's Cry

Stranded in this place
I cannot recognize
Abandoned and lonely
No one hears my cries
AS i walk through this wasteland
Of wilderness and desolation
I am consumed with anguish
I walk this road with hesitation
On every turn that i come upon
The is more pain than at the last turn
Agony and torment spews from my pores
With every step i take more pain i earn
Until i am enveloped with grief
Buried alive on my feet
Dirt in my eyes,nose,mouth,and lungs
I throw up my flag of defeat
Each painful blow leaves behind a deep gash
That is constantly reopened never able to heal
Infection has now set into my heart
Slashes and scars on my body reveals the detail
Of the despair embedded deep in my soul
That tells a tale of a soul so lost
A soul wandering through this wilderness
A tale of what being born black cost

Trayvon Brown

Walk with me,

Don't...SHOOT, 
cuz I don't wanna die young, 
I wanna grow old and have 
a daughter or a son, or maybe both, 
to live a full life is my hope,
but the bullets in your gun 
are a noose around my throat.

Don't....SHOOT,
I promise you I wanna LIVE,
I wanna show the world everything I have to give
and it's a lot, and yea I might smoke a little pot,
but so did Bill Clinton and HE didn't get shot.

Don't....SHOOT,
I got plans for my future,
that don't include a cop saying
stop and let me shoot ya

Don't....SHOOT,
my hands are clearly in the air
I start school next week and I just wanna
make it there.

But you..... SHOT,
and let me die in the streets,
now my people want answers 
NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE!
© Nafsi Huru  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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