Best Black African Amerday Poems
(read as fast as you can with an annoying high pitched hamster like voice)
The hamster was in the road one day and BOOM!! he got hit by a garbage truck.
Hamster was singing in the swimming pool one day and a person jumped in and Boom! goes the hamster
Hamster climbed his way to the top of a five foot window (which is like mount everest for a hamster) and BOOM!
Hamster goes BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!!!!!
Either the hamster has bad luck, or is just REALLY CLUMSY...
Bye!!!
15 years!!
15 years!!
15 years for 2,000 deaths.
15 years for wearing a black and white collar around your neck,
calling gorrilla soldiers to bulldoze a church,
where your suppose to speak heavenly life changing words,
calling people to the alter to repent.
15 years, for speaking with a split tongue.
For taking the place for hope, safety, the foundation, the place where miracle's come heaven
sent, and
making it a grave site for the tutsis.
While preaching in other countries how good god's been.
Some murder's claim to be married to god, but have taken part in killing million's of his
children, and still live in convents.
I understand athesism though I do not follow it.
4 million killed since 98".
Young boys forced to rape their mother's,
then watch their mother's shot between their legs, or die later on of aids.
15 years!!
This is revalation's in our day and age.
15 years for trying to dimolish an entire race.
I'd get more than that for buying and selling weight.
For, driving a stolen car, on house arrest, intoxicated, but
2,000 dead at one time.
It's being tried as if it were an american felony case.
This is revalation's in our day and age.
15 years.
The funny thing about this is,
we'll spend million's to report it, but
won't aide in the prevention of another loss of life.
Amazing isnt it.
Country Cafeteria
in Shelby County,
Illinois, 1989
The two weeks
I spent in that small town
on assignment, I saw no blacks
except for two older women
regal in every way,
hair coifed in silver gray,
working in the Country Cafeteria.
They walked like pastors’ wives
as they bused their 20 tables.
White badges on their uniforms
announced in red their names,
their years of service.
They never said a word,
not even to each other.
They just took the cups and plates away
and wiped oil tablecloths pristine.
I took three meals a day in silence there,
the only place in town to eat.
I was the stranger in a suit and tie,
a city weed among stout farmers in old coveralls
who came to town each day to note
“no rain yet” and “the corn is dyin’.”
Before each meal instead of saying Grace,
I wanted to stand and ask these ladies
as they bowed before the clutter on their tables:
If you have worked here all these years,
and lived in this town also,
where in the Name of God,
other than at home or church,
are you free to talk or laugh or sing
or clap your hands in emancipation?
Donal Mahoney
A Better Day
A day to be loved, a day to be free
A day to be plain, a day for me
As the day begins, the day comes
When you see green grass outside
From the heavens; God will provide
The birds sing a sweet song
The animals come out short and long
And a man starts his working
And rain clouds come a lurking
A day to be loved, a day to be free
A day for happiness filled with new joy
A day for a girl to meet a boy
A day, someday this day will come.