Long Black african amer Poems

Long Black african amer Poems. Below are the most popular long Black african amer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Black african amer poems by poem length and keyword.


The 44th President

The 44th President “one who is blessed” in Swahili,
Happens to love his wife’s Shrimp Linguini.
His desk, in the senate office once belonged to Robert Kennedy!
Renegade Tried to make it in to an all black male calendar,
But was rejected by an all female committee.
He wares $1500 Hart Schaffer suits,
With one of his identical pair of size 11 shoes.
When the president stands up you never hear any boo’s.
A few good luck charms he has with him,
A Madonna and child frozen for eternity,
And a bracelet of the arm of a man fighting in Iraq.
Bar can lift an impressive 200 pounds wile lying on his back.
His favorite delight to drink is Black forest iced tea,
Wile looking at his red boxing gloves signed by Mohamed Ali.
But never ask him out to Baskin Robbins, he don’t like ice cream.
But if you gave him a chocolate protein bar his dream.
Hide any dog meat snake meat or roasted grasshoppers up high,
For all these things he has tried.
All wile keeping his dignified pride.
He gets a snip and a trim once a week cost him $21 dollars,
That’s real cheap thanks to Zariff.
In whom the Obomber confides in to talk about the week.
He mite have been the one who convinced the malotoe,
To trade his Chrysler 300 in for the hybrid.
His memoirs, Dreams from My Father won a Grammy in 2006.
He was o past war president that was left handed the 6th.
He left a stag party which had a stripper in 1996.
As a teenager he tried marijuana and cocaine,
And Berry collects comic books like spider-man and Conan the Barbarian.
His specialty as cook is chili,
His favorite TV shows are Mash and The Wire.
He has four places in a Chicago home to build a fire.
He uses an apple Mac laptop to look at Pablo Picasso art.
He has read every Harry Potter book,
I wonder if he spoke Spanish to his pet ape back in Indonesia.
Form: Rhyme


New Jerusalem

Each Block full of cops and stray shots that spot and show the stash rats and infinit trash 
speakers blast weed and hash dispatch mash whores and cash jealousy splash blood spills 
landfills alcoholics who drink nyquil no frill foods and young uns rude slaughter lewd acts 
coke and crack vein slaps used jim hats in poisonous snatch aids attack political traps dt 
adapt or better yet attach years of crap scared and strapped studio raps fades and naps 
preacher slacks jump rope and jacks actual facts make any fraud collapse jump to the next 
beat crumblin sheets so manifique vessel lettin jewwels leak wise cries crusty eyes judges I 
despise as the chicken fry I ask why is freedom denied and govermental pressure applied 
here's the Queen city the light shining bright that handed me a beautiful wife and 4 seeds to 
complete our life many strike and lash here's a black but pucker suckers steppin utilizing 
non-destructive weapons ever so destined God's grace embrace a misunderstood race 
searchin for a meaningful place we're not waste court case sent my rage circumvents wit a 
toke of hemp bent ignores the rent due win no lose wit holes in my shoes take it next level 
tru rebel mellow hello peace the faith that increase pray in the streets constant relief from a 
soulsonic beat let's leap on cloud nine peops watch those that greet meek never weak 
deeper than most chocolate amazon close sexy exotic fiberoptic tune in from day one 
zoomin bloomin no coonin fist side by side Activist reactin making things happen minus 
nappin law enforcement slaps and attack areas hood when it's the Europeans who always up 
to no good. DEDICATED to all Black and Latino people dying in NEWARK!
Form: Rhyme

An African Dreamer's Dilema

I  dreamt of what I  could  be
when  this faithful  deluge
give up 
when my day 
finally breaks

My bamboo bed
tripled  its size
and has only few sticks
still left 
Behold!
the depth of father’s grave 
came forth;
so also
the forestalled
hopes  of  grieving mother
still in her mourning cloth

I could smell 
the tantalizer  
grandmother once prepared 
for father
oblivious  what next day
portended for us

When the hard nocks 
of the rain
broke through
my thatched roof
and ceaselessly
came in droplets  
on my brow
It furrowed 
to clearer vindication

The light I saw
shorn so bright to be true
every thing in me soothed
and I knew I was coming 
closer to where it all started.

Finally I arrived
the dingy room 
where grand father 
always sat alone 
resting his fragile neck
looking at the world. 
He ceaselessly crunched
at  his well separated teeth
scolding and questioning
his unseen guests
Un-seeable guests
who claimed his only son 
only last year 
they still want
the  remaining
contract performed
Ridiculous. Callous
I imagined grandfather 
Must be telling them.
I  imagined
Okosisi  would  dare the spirits 
and refuse to die
at least for my sake
whatever the cult may say. 

The strands of his hair 
hung somewhere in mother’s  kitchen
and she knows the price
we shall all  pay  
if that loop  is  mistakenly
eaten by the fire
I  imagined
Okosisi would dare the spirits
and stick to his gun
and refuse to die
and if he lives
and the spooks demand me
who will continue the family tree?.
Form:

I'Ll Be There For You (Love Is On Board Too)

One morning long-ago, he calls together his executive board meeting, even those 
in attentance were amazed of his greeting's. O'Abraham was there as were Elijah and
Moses too. Also I'm comprehended to believe on this secred of day's that the spiritual
Father made sure Isaiah and Daniel are at the table. He begins the meeting by telling
them, Bros. of the Cross, how his courtship onto the nation must come from the only
one who is able (JESUS). "For I must go and get my children's", "and assure them as I
have for you". I'll be there for You, never to forsake them, or never will I leave them.
  Moses say's at this meeting, the enemy will come at you moreso now than ever and
shall upset even the select. "My People knows my voice (there is silent as he now 
stands) for in my son name Jesus, that day they are to place their faith on the power
of the Cross". He shall give his life for many and the just and the unjust shall still re-
cieve rain, but one's choosing Everlasting approbiation shall have peace, just for belie-
ving on his name. The board tells him to go with their blessing. He goes to Bethelehem
and bestowe's upon Mary(a virgin) the pregnacy of the World, and so the amazing part
of the story is that the people's find "Glory".
   He performs many miracle's, bring sight to all that is blind and all who don't know the
truth. From his executive room to the worst neighborhood on earth, he's saying today 
as always, "I'll be there for You", that's the reason for his Birth.
Form: Narrative

I Come From a People

“I Come From A People”
Written by Kim Tipton Scott

I come from a people...

Forced to labor from sun up
‘till after it had gone down
and from the fruits of this 
involuntary servitude
cotton...tobacco...and cane
an entire country was built
with their bare and blistered hands.

I come from a people...

Men...women…even Children
with limbs big and strong
but spirits even stronger
and though beaten
and sometimes near skinned alive, 
never could be broken.

I come from a people...

Mamas…Big Mamas…Aunt Jemimas 
Born with that kind of faith 
that could move mountains 
and just like those trees 
planted by the mighty waters
they could not be moved.

I come from a people...

Hated simply for the color of their skin 
but continued to say it loud,
“I’m Black and I’m proud,”
‘cause BLACK is so 
so beautiful…so beautiful…so beautiful
which is why white folks sit out in the sun.

I come from a people...

Criticized…dehumanized…victimized
called everything but a child of God
but kept on singin ’and a shoutin’
“Sticks and stones may break 
every last one of my bones 
but those mean ol’ words of yours
will never hurt me!”

I come from a people...

Who as the ol’ folks use to say 
had nothin’…nothin’…nothin’
but a wing and a prayer
but somehow made a way 
out of no way for their children,  
and their children, 
and theirs to be…FREE!
© Kim Scott  Create an image from this poem.


Create a White Soil, It Is Worth the Toil

I am black, 
you are 
white... of 
course,
my blood 
is red, 
what 
colour is 
yours?
I am an 
African, 
you are an 
American,
The Sun is 
my skin, 
why do 
you tan?

'I am 
white, you 
are black', 
well said!
I have one 
head, have 
you got 
dash head?
Oh you are 
well read, 
you swim 
in books,
where 
comest 
these 
clowns 
and 
crooks?

I am black, 
you are a 
Briton, 
that's right,
you can 
read and 
write, see 
that light?
You have 
two hands 
and one 
high heart,
why crave 
this awful, 
ancient 
African art?

I am black, 
I have this 
simple 
sack,
Hey 
whiteman, 
I know 
you do not 
lack,
I live in a 
hut, right 
on a 
humble hill,
I see those 
misiles in 
your 
power mill.

I am black 
you are 
white, 
that's 
wow!
You did 
not create 
that 
colour...why 
cow?
You call me 
a monkey, 
I eat sweet 
bananas,
You seem 
like a racist 
with 
lustuous 
lacunas.

I am black, 
yet in my 
eyes I see 
the stars,
from that 
white 
skies you 
see but 
scars...
You are so 
different, 
why do 
you lament,
I am 
indifferent, 
you sound 
like... 
accident!

I am black, 
but you 
are in a 
black list,
You seem 
to be a 
terrorist, 
yes a racist!
You will 
one day go 
down in a 
black soil
or create a 
white soil, 
it is worth 
the toil!
Form: Rhyme

Mosaic Memory

Frightend children under the baobab
Of elders discourse playing
At the deep edge of rites
Of passages
With no Atlantic dream.

There is a beauty here
Before the other world began
Forgetting its origin
And taste
Of white milk in black breast
Beautifully caressing
The tongue
Outside the jaws of greed.

The time of pyramids
Lolling 
On the golden sands
Full with the jewels of history
Civilizations gone
And dead sphinx to come
To Alexandria dreaming
Far from the distant 
Wonders of Timbuctu.

And after all that gain
Suddenly a flood
Of nothingness
Carrying totems
Of laughed animism
On children's head 
Like weed.

Stale rum sizzling
In the heat
Of deception
Crackle lies
The missionary and prelates of doom
Smile when the boom
Behind us burst
Crankling chains
Move to the shackle of the feet
The heart coffled
To the suddeness of defeat
Stared at the deception
That could not win
Without the foul
Practices bred in smoke filled bars
Of cold desolate 
places making a wave.

We come
From banks of river
Surety to insurance companies
For new ships
That carry us promisary notes 
Of golds to cotton and cane 
Replacing the earth hidden
Treasures
In a mother's bowels
We come 
Dying 
To change the mosaic to come
Into a place
Where you know may know
I am
The father of the race.

My Man

Dreads swingin’
Golden brown skin
Deep south
Drawl
Cunning like 
A fox
Sharp as
An eagle
So strung out;
Me I mean 
Over your love
Security and protection
Is all I feel
In his arms
A familiarity
Like no other
With you I 
Feel back to
My roots
I can smell the
Collard greens
I can hear
The very faint
But definite power
Of a language 
So foreign to me
You can have me
So high
But when 
I crash 
Oh 
I can see
In you 
The hurt 
When you
Get itchy
To go
To leap up and leave me
Either in the
Dead of night or
Going to grab
Some smoke
Because it’s not 
In your spirit
To sit still
You are made up of
Long roads
No end
Or specific
Destination in sight
Just open air
And a
Freedom
That only birds know
You cuss me
Because like always
But I hope
Not forever
You don’t know
How to deal with
Your anger
Because like
Always but 
I hope not forever
Your just another
Black man
Who was left 
Abandoned by 
Another black man
Leaving behind
An endless cycle
Of tough love
But see tough love
Is what I’m made
Of
It’s in my spirit
To wipe at 
Your scars
To grease your scalp
While you
Tell me
Of your adventures
To tell you that
Nothing or no one
Can stop you 
From touching the
sky

Holy Water

Lord I'm trying to design lines to give sight to the blind
that Chuk D fight the power 1989

that Brand Nubian/BDP scriptures
trying to tell them slow down or loves gonna get cha

the whole games been infected with demons so wicked
I've been tasked to protected it with this verbal exorcism
because listening is torture
since everybody swear they spit hot fire
then My flow is holy water

it's lyrical baptism
putting out hell's  flames by simply bobbing your brain to my rhythm

you can catch the holy ghost to this
testify and witness it
now don't you feel magnificent
it's anti ignorant

been touched by an angel my flow is divine
it  could part the red sea and turn water to wine
so while your rhymes break Keys(kilos) down to nickels and dimes
I'm inclined to plant seeds that will strengthen their minds

I'm not a stranger to the struggle I know the hustle well
I dabbled in these streets I've done a little dirt my self

I've  sold poisonous  concoctions 
drank malted toxins
but learned to beat myself to the punch like shadow boxing

preparing for war with the love of the Lord
the pen is my sword,and the full armor or God
Form: Rhyme

Project Blues...

Hanging out on my front porch in East Capital 

dwellings on the SE side of town as we sip on a forty

and talking about who got smoked the other night... We 

all got them Project blues! Summer now finally 

here we roll up them tiny trees... Puff Puff and 

then passing it around and you better watching out 

for them five O clowns... cuz no body will care if 

they should happen to beat you down. Man, I got them 

project blues! We are all sad because Mike got smoked 

over some silly trick just last week. Man, we got them 

project blues! We just found out Paul got the package 

and he don't know how much longer he might have to live? 

Man, I got them project blues! My Momma just got laid off 

from her job down at the U Street grill... Guess its 

back to food stamps for us this year? Man, I got them 

project blues! This ain't no joke growing up in a hell hole 

like this and its really bad if you just so happen to be 

born a young male... and God help you if you are black. 

Man, have I got them project blues!
Form:

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