Long Black african Poems
Long Black african Poems. Below are the most popular long Black african by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black african poems by poem length and keyword.
Father Christ’s encounter with the Pharisees never fail to entertain.
Almost everywhere He preaches
A few people would show up
Trying to compromise His ministry
To catch Him in violation of custom or law
Mingling with known sinners
As Father Christ did repeatedly
Was clearly acceptable to Pharisees
While obeying the law is important
Father Christ was an observant Jew
He also knew the law
Social structures had their limitations
His message to legalistic sticklers is straightforward
Unadorned
He wants to engage real people on real issues
People with faults, problems, people searching for Eternal God
It means folks like you and me
He is not excluding the arrogantly righteous among us
He’s pretty busy with the rest of humanity
This message if freely offered to any
All who will listen
If youre going to hung up
On the narrow publications of the law
You will be missing a life changing message
Yesterday I found a seed and theres no better place to plant it
Than in your heart.
I acknowledge that you've heard promise after promise.
And as time steadfast, these empty promises have become the reason it never rains.
The soil around your heart has turned cold and has become hard.
With more doubt comes unease.
And with more unease comes a reason to lash out and suffocate all the beauty
that surrounds within.
This at all is not the case.
For the neglect of a beautiful flower should never be in vain.
For the true crime committed is those who walk by afraid to be who they really are.
Sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees.
You my beautiful queen are more elegant.
More beautiful than you can imagine.
For the thorns that grow along your stem are only a means to protect.
Not to be taken as a defect that takes away from how special you truly are.
A neglected rose can only continue to wither without everything needed to grow.
But until you can look and see the beauty within, everything around you will continue to be dark.
All I ask, is for you not to believe everything you see.
That in time, among the crowd.
Someone will stop and admire all the beauty you possess.
But until you yourself can see all the beauty you have.
You will continue to live in self doubt and suffocate everything around you.
Let yourself grow
How much more can we stand
To witness the killing of "Another Black Man?"
Walking with a friend, these two meet
Words were spoken, get the “F” out the street
Getting out of his car, taking this shh… a lil too far
Pulling out his gun, Mike Brown on the run
Hands up, don’t shoot, Black Lives Matter
Shot down to the ground, see the blood splatter
Black Man on the ground lifeless and dead
“No Indictment,” was the verdict they said
Over and over, again and again
Got this on video, but we know how it end
“Leave me alone, stop harassing me”
I’m minding my own business, can’t you see
All of a sudden, Eric Garner was choked
“I can’t breathe,” the last words he spoke
No justice, no peace, another brother deceased
Black Man on the ground lifeless and dead
“No Indictment,” was the verdict they said
And now to the world, you gotta go tell
Unarmed Black Man killed in the stairwell
Can you believe, it wasn’t even dark?
12 year old killed, shot dead in a park
Kid was riddled with bullets all in him
No questions asked, he was dead in a minute
Here we are in 2020, truly what the heck
Another Black Man can’t breathe
Dead from a knee pressed in his neck
What’s really going on? Another son not making it home
Another kid without his dad
The country’s tired, fed up and mad
Saggy pants, dreads and even some tats
Make us suspicious and plus we’re black
None of that defines just who we are
This shh… being taken wayyy too far
No matter what’s the name, Eric Garner, Mike Brown
Any kind of Black Man is a target ‘round town
Stop killing our brothers, our husbands, our sons
Please, Please, Please… Stop shooting your guns
They say, “It’s NOT about race”
Well if it’s NOT about race, then it must be about fear
Yet who are we that they fear when they see
The color of a man, black, brown, caramel or tan?
And if it is about fear, then it must be “The Fear of a Black Man”
Because truth be told, it’s NOT the same results
How many times do you hear of a shooting of a “white man”
Just because you “thought” he had a gun?
Or the unarmed white man shot 10 times in the back just because he was running away?
It’s not justice, it’s not fair
It’s not the same everywhere
Where did this fear come from?
Where did it begin?
Is it the power of the color of the skin?
Contemporary Ode To A Mother Crying Out
To Her Children…2015
Sprawled out on life’s stage,
her world turns and runs
river red with the blood of her children:
flowing like a wandering stream.
Bloated ballooned bellies
mock aborted pregnancies;
once luscious breasts
sag in parallel union
with sinking faces
of lost hope.
Lost hope—whirling
like solitary ghost smoke
of abandoned fires:
abandoned fires
dying in waning time.
Hollowed red eyes
of fleeing lovers look rearward:
the wholeness of nothingness simmering;
as smiling death sits—
waiting and anticipating the wonted feast.
Heartbeat of hope struggles—
murmuring in the valleys and shadows;
searching the gods’ penurious mercy.
In the midst of the Dante, hazed hell,
a wretched mother clings
to time and history—once again.
Rooted in her audacious faith,
she cries out to her wandering brood in Diaspora:
those liberating souls spewed from her precious womb.
Scattered liberating souls—umbilical bound;
destined to restore her great grand glory:
With sage seasoned good courage,
sagaciously she squats—
awaiting the victory.
It's relatively a slow process.
A thought builds upon anticipation.
Thanks to the nostalgia ingrained by Disney.
Musically the songs are different.
Granted the press of a thumb.
Spotify, Pandora.
An assortment of different streams all profoundly deep.
Separately, the adaptation is the same.
Boy meets girl.
Eyes go on vacation.
Suddenly we're dressed in leisure.
Beautiful sights ingested by the brochures of a hotel lobby.
Just yesterday none of this seemed possible.
Everything crowed into the bends of a folded booklet.
Lost in the sensation of influential taste.
This was my outlook.
A yesterday morning spent in the hotel lobby of my own interest.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
This slow process that begins it's advance.
A millennium that begins a couple seconds past twelve.
She was the art visually spread across the brochure.
With arms wide open I fell in.
Speeding up this process ever slightly.
I still a consumer at best.
Her being the best vacation I ever been.
I am in sense booking my own fear.
Her love.
Further more exploring the secret of her parenthesis
You are my favorite song on the album of life.
I am sure others will agree.
Inside I drown in an ocean.
A boy peering into the kaleidoscope of a crush.
A beautiful voice, the progression of how far you've come.
Me appearing to see you in concert.
People don't appreciate you.
Rather comparing you to someone else.
It's exciting to see you covered in bright lights.
That nervous jitter you get.
A star crossing what's left of my life.
My faith in good music restored.
What ever the song I don't want it to end.
I love the way you say love.
The chill felt as you walk pass.
Hunty you never let me down.
The instrumental of your voice.
Even on bad days I listen to your song the most.
God bless you for taking the time out
Old-time fans called him 'The Great White Hope'
Larry Bird had to 'walk the tightrope'
He was no dope; he knew he was special
So he focused hard on crossing that threshold
By 1980, the NBA had become a black man's jungle
Woe to Bird, or any white boy, should he bungle
his chance to prove unearned accolades true
The league would just spit him out, after a sharp-fanged chew
But Bird never backed down; he brawled from start to finish
Winning games on raw hustle, desire and 'magic' undiminished
by the taunts and elbows he took from those who hated his guts
The 'white boy' dished out what he took; the cries no longer heard,
'Bird is a klutz'...
When they tallied wins and losses at the end of his first season
Bird's Boston Celtics improved by 32 games, and Larry was the reason
Everyone who saw him play knew it, including the haters who blew it
~ then grudgingly renamed him 'Larry Legend' ~ 'cos it fit
____________________________________________________________
'Larry Legend' went on to play 13 years for the Celtics, scoring over 25,000
points, winning 3 MVP awards, was selected to 13 all-star teams, and won
the respect of every black superstar who ever played the game. Was he the
GOAT (Greatest of All-Time)? That's an endless debate. But I can tell you
this: When Michael Jordan, THE MICHAEL JORDAN, played against Bird for
the first time in the NBA, he (Michael) asked for Larry's autograph (!) Bird
snickered, 'Earn it first, rookie.'...
Postscript: Jordan's Chicago Bulls never once beat Bird's Celtics in a playoff
game, going 0-6. (And in the last three contests, Bird limped badly before
each game due to a horrific spine injury that ended his career). 'Nuff said!
Verse 1:
Pretty brown eyes, you know I see you,
Across the crowded room, a silent cue,
A flicker of something, a hidden desire,
Burning slow, fueled by the fire.
Got the vibe on smash, no need for a lie,
Spitting rhymes like a king, baby, I’m fly,
While the world spins ‘round, we move in slow-mo,
Feel the beat drop hard like it’s Tony in a dojo.
Heartbeat racing like a train on a track,
You bite your lip, girl, and I'm never looking back,
Lighting up the night like it’s 4th of July,
Hands up high, let’s reach for the sky.
Drink in my hand, toast to the life,
Roll with my crew, you could be my wife,
Swag on E, but the love’s on full,
You’re the queen of the night, let’s break every rule.
Chorus:
We gon’ party till dawn, let the music play,
In this club full of dreams, yeah, we drift away,
Pretty brown eyes, get lost in the thrill,
Feel that bass pounding, got the world standing still.
Verse 2:
Streets alive, neon lights illuminating,
Rhymes so heavy, you can feel ‘em vibrating,
Grinding on the floor, moving to the beat,
Sweat dripping down, yeah, we turning up the heat.
Got my peeps around, loyalty’s thicker than blood,
In this concrete jungle, we rise from the mud,
Hustle hard, party harder, that’s the motto we claim,
Bright city lights, we ain't ever gonna tame.
Sip that Henny neat, chase it with the vibe,
Stacking the good times, we all here to ride,
With you by my side, it’s a whole different game,
In the chaos of the night, love is never the same.
So let the DJ run it back, spin the record right,
Got that energy, girl, we shining so bright,
Pretty brown eyes, lost in the moment,
In this dance of life, we never gonna own it.
Chorus:
We gon’ party till dawn, let the music play,
In this club full of dreams, yeah, we drift away,
Pretty brown eyes, get lost in the thrill,
Feel that bass pounding, got the world standing still.
In a world where the color black is often misunderstood,
Let's shed some light on what's truly good.
Black Friday sales, a shopper's delight,
Financial success on the bottom line, shines bright.
Luxury cars and sleek limousines, easily attract,
But film and stage crews wearing all black don’t distract.
Power, elegance, sophistication in black attire,
Black exudes status, confidence and formality that never tire.
Credit lines and exclusive cards are black,
A little black book, aww… a secret stack.
Black tie dinners, events so grand,
Orange is the New Black, a popular stand.
Karate black belts, symbolize skills honed with might,
Black sand beaches like Santorini’s, a stunning sight.
The Black Panther Party, fighting for human dignity
Black is the color for mystery, unity and solidarity.
Black wedding dresses preceded the white Victorian tradition,
All black cars from Henry Ford's assembly line, a historical rendition.
But amidst the beauty of black, there's also pain,
Darkness, death, grief, evil, and fear that remain.
Understand that black is not wack, it's a color of depth,
To embrace the good, and ignore the rest is inept.
Black pops amid all other hues in a world so vast,
Let's appreciate God’s divine design, and reject misconceptions of the past.
Terror lurks in the darkened eyes of a growing child
As each minute she dips into the shrieks from her mama, 25;
Marked dad curled in silence on the ground, wanting life,
Marked by another man who’d barely seen seasons 25.
She recalls how daddy cried out and fell silent to the ground.
Mum recoiled at many punches many staunch “men” had found.
She was 4 back then, and saw as men 12-year olds from out of town
As they ripped her mama’s clothes…she closes her eyes, counting each heart pound.
She recalls that red stream that slithered to her hidden corner
Soaking her skirt; soaking in hurt like staring at the sun’s corona.
Outside guns rattled, taking out all who could mourn her.
Lonely, the tears trickled down slowly, spelling “Were’t I wasn’t born, Ah!”
Slowly the tears trickled down that lonely jaw…
“Jane”, cried the professor, “What’s the result of this mixture?”
Jane knew not what was before, she stood there distraught.
She wishes she could do better, but her past sticks in the picture.
(c) Nyonglema