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.


Premium Member Of An Ebony Hued Mid-Summer Night Dream: Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and the Fiery Furnace

OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)

Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.

Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-

Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.

Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing 
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.

During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.

Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying 
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.

Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.

Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;

Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
Form: Prose


The Curse

How long will this suffrage last?
Painting the dark picture of a darkened past.
My people are supposed to be blessed,
But we are cursed in this foreign land.
My people are supposed to be royalty,
Yet we are slaves.
The seed is supposed to grow higher and higher,
But yet it withers away like a dry flower.
Just accept it, that the curse is with us,
How long will this suffrage last?

If only God’s commandments were kept,
There would be no ignorance or plague,
No death or lost identities,
No religion or slaves.
There wouldn’t be another Egypt
that would take us far away from the motherland.

How long can we survive the curse?
Will it be forever and ever?
Will our beautiful queens continue to receive pain
While baby daddies are the ones to blame?
How about the separation of our families
causing broken homes?
Is it the curse of our ancestor’s blame?

How long will we rely on this oppressive nation?
The king over us that has no regard of our struggle.
Their nation became unstoppable, 
They rose higher and higher.
But my people plundered lower and lower
since the days of old, from slavery to civil rights,
And all them stories untold.
We are the tail but not the head,
We fought for our rights but we still are not equals.
How long will this curse last?
When will the shouts cry, “Free at last!”


This is the curse,
A curse where God has shamed us,
From generation to generation,
Leaving our enemies blameless,
While they steal everything we own
And make it their possession.
Our people are the creators,
Yet it is unknown.

Almost four hundred years
the plagues has risen like a swarm of locusts
Devouring the blessing because of our scattered nation.
We were like the stars in the sky shining,
Until our numbers dwindled
from the slaughter of the beast’s wrath.

If only the ancestors stayed obedient and humble,
Maybe our lives would be a blessing.
We would be living with silver and gold,
But instead we were uprooted
from the land that was promised.


My brothers and sisters wake up!
We are living in a curse.
From poverty to persecution,
Watching death catch more bodies.

Repent and renew your mind and spirit,
Follow His commandments until you reach further,
Back to the motherland that is soon to be promised.
Get out of your ways and you will be covered.
If not, you will continue living the curse.
© K.T. Brown  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Street Life

Poet: Ken Jordan
Story: Street Life
written: July/2014


    Child, I have seen many nights
turn to dawn, out in the streets.
I was you once,  left home thinking that 
I could take care of myself at eighteen.
      
     My parents told me what to
expect from my decision to walk away 
from the one's who loved me.          
    
     Whatever they said, didn't matter, 
because I was mentally gone, (lost) and 
rushing to get out there in the unforgiving
 cesspool of street life. 
   
     One thing is clear,  once out there,
I learned very quickly what my parents 
tried to get me to see.
      
      The streets are cold , cruel , vicious,
 and everyone's for themselves.  

      When your money runs out, your group 
of so called "friends," are gone.

      No one is going to give you
something for nothing,  you make 
it the best way that you can.

      Looking back, the temptation of
being out there with my friends, 
doing whatever I wanted to do, 
without permission from my parents,
was the lure that motivated my
desire to leave home, and hang out
in the streets.

      My parents fought tirelessly to
protect me from the hazards of 
street life, but obviously, I wouldn't 
listen.

      They said son, you're too young at 
eighteen, haven't finished high school; 
you have no money.
       What makes you think that you can 
make it out there on your on.
  
   You think that it's cool to hang-out, smoke 
weed, drink alcohol, pop pills, do edible drugs, and stay up (high )
all night, and fallout wherever 
you are.

       The devil is a liar, he will set you up, 
to lure you in,  he'll make you think that 
you're, "part of his street family," but, when 
it all goes down, (and it will go down), the 
devil will point a finger your way,  and 
leave  you to defend yourself, and move 
on to the next victim.

 In street life, you better know  which-a-way 
 the wicked come.  
        They  wear false faces to hide who 
they really are.

      I played with the
devil, and crossed many murky,
dark rivers, but, the devil did not win.
 
      I heard my parents voice's saying,
"Theirs only two places to go 
from street life, prison or the cemetery."

    The devil is a lair, and he's not your
friend. be aware of who and what
you follow, because, all feathers
ain't good feathers, choose the path
of least resistance, and your life
will change for the good in you.
© Ken Jordan  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

Taking Our Brothers Back To Eden

in order to get back to Eden to live on top of the world
there are a few things from God which need to be heard

here in America in the democratic land of milk and honey
African-Americans are disproportionate when it comes to power and money
our healthcare is poorer, our finances worse, few of us in seats of power
at the bottom of most demographic indicators and our circumstances diminish by the hour
the most unemployed, the most discriminated, the first to be laid-off or dismissed
more of us in jail, a lot of us illiterate, there are too many problems for me to list
fewer marketable skills, fewest high school diplomas and don't mention college degrees
African-American men in America need to take off their blinders and see
to those who stand behind stained-glass windows and look down on those who have less
you need to take your brothers back to Eden and put an end to all this mess
you might not comprehend their reality but you should attempt to understand
that as true servants of God you should help your fellow man

if you consider yourself to be a true disciple of Christ
what have you done to enrich someone else's life?
who did you clothe? who did you feed?
who did you minister to in their time of need?
who did you mentor to on how to be a man?
who did you talk to or stretch out your hand?
there's a lot of work that needs to be done to get our brothers inspired
we need to help them build a relationship with God and do as Jesus aspired

in order to get back to Eden we need to start at the very beginning
with the basic instructions that God is recommending
to fellowship with your fellow man
to develop a trust opposite to slavery's plan
to communicate with positivity
to no longer promote negativity
to pull up your pants and walk like a man
to be productive and not destructive
to be supportive and not abortive
to act like someone's father and not like you're being bothered
to teach our brothers to put down the guns and take up the cross
so they will no longer act like thugs but to think like a boss
no longer will we be divided with jealous envy 
now united as brothers under God's authority
getting back to Eden to be on top of the world
to living our lives according to God's Holy word
to get back to Eden and up from the basement of life
living on top of the world as brothers with our savior Jesus Christ
Form: Didactic

Yesterday

What happened yesterday 
Can change  today. 
When a person understands
His" her" capacity 
He "she" can not see borders
To enter some world competitions 
Where racism and injustice
Are not principal choices. 

Power of beauty and wealth,  
Some  daughters of some poor in the Competition with some daughters 
Of some rich people.  
Yesterday when I saw you in miss universe,
I said,"wow!  Yeah, they  are there 
To show their beauties
As other races. " 
Participating in such 
Universal competition, 
It is not an easy task. 
From local competition to national, 
From National competition
To universal competition. 
To have a miss universe  title.

Yesterday,  
When I heard about  black American women
Who won  miss America and miss USA 
Another black african woman who won
Miss South Africa and miss universe. 
Their wins encouraged 
More black women in the world 
Who were discouraged 
By injustice, tribalism, 
Regionalism, 
Corruption and
Racism in some countries. 

Power of beauty and wealth, 
A beautiful woman that  a man saw yesterday 
Can stick in his mind for some years. 
Men  know what they want,
It is hard to change their choices. 
White man marry a beautiful black woman
 " or white woman" 
A black man marry a beautiful white woman
 " or black woman." 
Men like the beautiful flowers ...
 It is their nature.  
Beauty women are  like beautiful 
blue, black, red, rose, orange, yellow, 
white, khaki, chocolate, green flowers 
Every man has his favorite coulours. 

Power of beauty and wealth, 
The style of beautiful women of yesterday 
Differ to the style of beautiful  women of today 
But their attractions don't  change in the eyes of men. 
Beauty of a woman is 
A strongest  magnate 
Which attracts, 
And captures 
Millions of men 
But 
The wealth of a woman 
Is a silent 
Missile 
Which terrify trillions
Of world  men.
Majority men are arrogants and
They  hate to be dominated
 By any woman. 

This piece of poetry portraying  some truth, 
Naked truth about small matters with 
Some solutions. 
Majority  rich women of yesterday 
Were so  arrogants and
Those of these days 
are still very arrogants. 
Marriage of two arrogants... 
Man and woman
Can not last, 
Unless one of them bound. 

May 5/2023
Writting for contest sponsored by
 Constance la France 
Theme: YESTERDAY


Cinnamon skies

Okay, here’s a shot at those lyrics, aiming for that Prince-meets-Brandy-ballad-with-a-Usher-hook vibe. I've opted for an AABB rhyme scheme with some internal rhymes to add to the flow.


Title: Cinnamon Skies (For Him)


(Intro - Soft synth pads, a low bass line, and a light drum machine beat – very 90s R&B)


(Verse 1 - Prince-esque vocals, slightly breathy and melodic)
Streetlights blur, a hazy gold, on my way to the pump
Thinking 'bout you, future unfolding, a gentle, subtle thump
He showed his fam, so soon, a shock, but felt like home, you see
Talkin' life, where we goin’, destiny, and you meant for me


(Pre-Chorus - Beat becomes a little more prominent, slight vocal harmonies come in)
He asked about my faith, my dreams, showed such soft respect
Never pressure, just intention, true love we connect


(Chorus - Usher-esque catchy hook, layered vocals, more emphasis on the beat)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you


(Verse 2 - Vocals become slightly more spoken word, still melodic)
Cinnamon dad, a sweet embrace, a fleeting, stolen kiss
Fueling up, for that precious place and that love I can't dismiss
Values deep, he spoke with fire, a vision we both shared
Future plans, burning desire, a feeling, well, it's rare


(Pre-Chorus - Beat picks up again, harmonies a bit stronger)
He honored every line I drew, cherished every side of me
This ain't just a fling, it's true, the man I was meant to see


(Chorus - Usher-esque catchy hook, layered vocals, more emphasis on the beat)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you


(Bridge - Ballad feel, vocal harmonies layered, beat drops to just a basic pulse)
Goddess Abundance, blessed this path, intertwined our fates
No doubt, no turning back, sealed by love, no debates
Early on, showing his clan, that I was meant to stay
A plan so grand, a holy span, now that future’s on display.


(Chorus - Usher-esque with a slight vocal run at the end, powerful and full)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you, oh yeaaaaah!


(Outro - Synth pads and a soft bass fade out, with a final echo of “for you…”)
Form: ABC

Father

I used to wonder

What you sounded like

What you looked like

Why you weren’t here

For so long, 

I thought my punishment from God for all the wrong I was GONNA do, was your absence.

I wondered if I were simply a mistake of two teenagers who didn’t know their head from 
their a$$es.

I used to ask about you, a lot.

I was either sent outside to play or given a look that told me I shouldn’t even be asking.

So I stopped and simply accepted what I had

And I always had plenty,

Even when I was too ungrateful to realize it.

I let thoughts of you go 

During what I call ‘The Dark Years’

The years when I’d hardened my heart and my mind

The years when I felt like my life was founded on rejection and pain

The years when I didn’t care about much of anything, including myself

My teens and early twenties weren’t much fun at all.

Then something happened

I became a mother

The father proved that he wasn’t ready to be a father

I entered the real world

I got a better understanding of what you and Mommy just have faced

A better understanding of the responsibility it brings

Over the years

I’ve matured

I’ve gotten smarter

I’ve grown into a woman

And my mind came back to you

I started again to wonder

What you looked like

What you sounded like

If you thought of me, like I was thinking of you

My wonderment got the best of me and I replaced it with a need to know

To know

If you were still alive

If you lived close or far

If you were a fine, upstanding person

Or some cracked out drunken loser

Not that any of it really mattered

I just needed to know

So I began my search

For answers

For closure

For my father.

Each leg of my search brought me new revelations.

You were still alive

You were married

You had other children

And finally

An exact location

It took courage I didn’t have even know I had to send that letter

It took even more to answer that first phone call 

Stomach flipping

Heart pumping

With a simple “hello”

A door opened

To my past

To my future 

To the unanswered parts of me

To my father

Now that I’m here

I don’t regret a moment lost

I know that time cannot be replaced

But a new, improved future can be made.

And with you, my father

I’m looking forward to it.
© Erin Green  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Color Of Evil Racism

I see the sad color of racism not every other day
But every second of the hour, all minutes of the day
I see the serious mental and physical damages
That this cancer has done throughout the ages
And is still doing to our beloved human beings
The others treat our People like they are leftover beans
On a petty pet's plate. Our people deserve respect
Fairness, justice, equality, acknowledgement
Compassion, credit and better treatment
Our sisters are tired of being left out on the deck
Our siblings are often harassed senselessly, persecuted
Falsely accused and relentlessly prosecuted
At one time, they were hunted and hounded by the system
At other time, hindered and haunted by an organized medium
Created to attack, destroy, burn, ravage and annihilate
To embarrass, marginalize, ridicule, punish and discriminate
I see the color of racism, when the police for no apparent reasons
Stopped, frisked and handcuffed our homeless, our elderlies
Or our law abiding citizens, like it was open seasons
To hunt for mule deer or bears, who behave like enemies
Of the civilized society. I see the sick color of racism
When our people are not hired not for being unqualified
But because of their skin color; they're quickly disqualified
Dismissed, fired or terminated. I see the monster of cynicism
All golly minutes of the day. The arrogance is unparalleled
Beyond belief. The racists forgot that God only created one race

One human race, one human race, one darn human race.

Their false pride, their fake supremacy, their ignorance is unleveled
And their audacity is incomparable. I see the colors of racism
Not that I want to search for them, not that I want to find them
Most of the time, I simply cannot elude, evade or escape them
It is not easy to ignore the litanies of bad or negative mannerisms
The bigots easily function like virulent or venomous vipers
That suck out the emotions, and that destroy all positive characters
Our lives, Black lives, like other lives, are sacramental and important
And our contributions to the world are significant
I see the ugly and surly color of racism not every other day
But every second of the hour, every minute of the darn day.


Copyright © February 24, 2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Form: Rhyme

Fifty-Two Plus One Hike Hypocrisy Part 3

People of the blue hill arrowhead new inroads  settled the plum-rock if they would have known the thirteen crystal skulls would sing of disease prayer towns taken for granite People's Republic  Taxachusett old colony pilgrim bay Make It Yours; The Spirit of America By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty                                                Large waters people of the three fires living in peace the Cadillac’s bristling hairs of fur trade stir the fox seven years of war and more expanding breaking treatise Out of many, one I will defend everyone wants the land  great lake wolverine mitten Winter Water Wonderland World's Motor Capital  America's High Five Great Lakes,                              Great Times; More To See  If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you                    Land of rolling cloudy water dropping milk into water friends of the free people forced into smaller lands where crop failure a winters starvation red tape no credit for food                  If they're hungry, let them eat grass friends at war over three hundred warriors                No attorneys or witness were allowed as a defense for the accused, and many were convicted in less than five minutes but Sheridan's, Custer’s and Baker’s plan                   was a dawn attack on a village in heavy snow, when most of the Indians would be sleeping or huddling inside to keep warm. It was a strategy he had employed before Explore Land of 10,000 Lakes Bread and Butter north Vikings north star Sky-Blue Waters                        *                                                                                     These called rebels heathen from underground before they had a flag forced to walk the trail of tears to be the red men from a land the government never paid then there is the slaves when cotton was king the Free people of color children of European men and enslaved women but half the population were slaves until KKK’s burning cross waving  the guerrilla war flag calling it "the White Man’s Flag" as well as stating:“ As a people we are fighting to maintain the Heaven-ordained supremacy of the white man over the inferior or colored race; a white flag would thus be emblematical of our cause. ”  Birthplace of America's Music magnolia bull bay the hospitality Feels Like Coming Home; The South's Warmest Welcome
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

To My Children The Bible God's Interactive Puzzle

It is a collection of 66 different books.
Each an important puzzle piece, just take a look.
God took a complete puzzle and tossed it in the air.
It fell down to the earth, scattering everywhere.
Most important piece is God himself 
That most will ever see.
John 15:4 says "You must abide in Me!"
The book Genesis tells how all things begin.
While Revelation shows us what happens in the end.
Each piece or book will provide another clue.
Of why Creator and creature interacts the way they do.
In Genesis, book of beginnings chapter's one, two & three.
It tells how everyone and all things have come to be.
Next we find out in chapter two.
He gave birth to his children and told the oldest what to do.
Obey me He said and all will go well!
But the moment you disobey, life for you will be hell!
You'll trigger a cancerous disease from within!
It will corrupt your thought patterns and will be called Sin!
Though I already know everything you will do.
The right to make your own choices, must be granted to you.
I've placed a conscious in you, but right now it's asleep.
It will provide you guidance when disconnected from Me.
It will not bother you as long as you do right.
But when you're doing wrong, it will trouble you day & night.
I've created this paradise for you my children today.
Obey my house rules or I must send you away.
While you're out being your own god, far away from home.
I gave you a concept called "Prayer" to be your cell phone.
I am "Truth!" and therefore unable to lie.
Disobedience severs our spiritual cord and your spirit will die.
You'll live by 5 senses of the flesh unfortunately,
And your offspring will loose all awareness of Me.
You'll curse humanity until the end of Days!
You'll hate, kill, and suffer for not doing as I say. 
Because I gave a perfect man the order to obey.
Only the death of another perfect man can take it away.
Once your bloodline becomes infected with the cancer of sin.
You'll reproduce defects only, but out of love, I'll step in.
I'll put on an 'Earth Suit!" come down from my Throne.
Die with your curse inside Me, so you can return home!
The whole time you're on earth, you will have problems there.
I'll send Angelic help, when you call me through prayer.
You'll know it's me carrying my life saving plans.
When you hear code word "Jesus!" The Savior of man!
Form: Rhyme

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