Sudanese Poems | Examples


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The Sudan California

People have water 
In the Sudan?
And oil and fire and tarnish
Miscible treasury 
As in Thousand Oaks California 
I for one cannot reach my Sudanese Archway 
Without war mongering fear hate teaching itself
The touched parts of myself for one day
Not allowed the oasis of bathing
Without city council
Economic freedom votes
Tens of millions of Sudanese Americans 
Have the identical rainfall amounts
I have a gripe of French soaps


kevin 29m
Governor Newsom
Governor Newsom
May we return to a congressional based observation of calendared appointment of statement in goals ordered by legislation avoiding obstruction of speech tonight?

May the state exist legally in budgeted measure of life's document as legislated from the Senate by end of next 48 hours in delegation of staff?
Copyright © kevin mathenia | Year Posted 2025

MAKE POWER LOVE AND IT CAN BE SHARED

What truly is power
Is it control or the silence that follows it?
Is it born from bullets and broken promises
Or from the love we dismiss as weakness?

Can power ever be shared
like bread split between hungry Sudanese hands
as if leadership were a meal
the poor can taste in equal halves?

Or is power what poisons the soil
the reason Sudanese children sleep in graves
instead of schools
the reason Sudanese mothers run carrying loss?

Power has become a cruel currency
bought with lives and traded in blood.
But perhaps the truth is this
power without love is nothing but war.

voyagers

Voyagers 

The old ship
rust stripped like a Sudanese mule
doomed to carry fleeing people across
a landscape of despair
Why, she floats is a lasting mystery
From one obscure port to another
she finds her way
The captain and the chief are never sober
plays ten-cent poker
The captain signs the manifesto but takes
no interest, what's in the ship's hold
other than massive rats 
when did the pair come onboard, was it
when they were young and wore uniforms
and had shiny black shoes inspected 
the crew's fingernail on Saturdays?
Morning in La Plata
tomorrow I will go ashore in Buenos Aires
eat fresh meat and dance the tango.


voyagers

Voyagers 

The old ship
rust stripped like a Sudanese mule
doomed to carry fleeing people across
a landscape of despair
Why, she floats is a lasting mystery
From one obscure port to another
she finds her way
The captain and the chief are never sober
plays ten-cent poker
The captain signs the manifesto but takes
no interest, what's in the ship's hold
other than massive rats 
when did the pair come onboard, was it
when they were young and wore uniforms
and had shiny black shoes inspected 
the crew's fingernail on Saturdays?
Morning in La Plata
tomorrow I will go ashore in Buenos Aires
eat fresh meat and dance the tango.

HYPOCRITE LEADERS

hypocrite leaders continue to bite other Africans daily.
as the rebels M23 "Rwanda defence force" bombed
bases of burudian peace soldiers 
in DRCongo wantonly. 
many people astonished 
and claimed that Kenyan,  
Ugandan and 
South Sudanese soldiers 
of East African 
Community 
are with the rebels M23 to divide  
DRCongo into many countries. 
It seemed as burudian soldiers did not agree 
in some dark deals and continued doing their mission 
Of restoring peace in some affected zones. 
many Congolese continue to appreciate 
the work of burundian soldiers 
than monusco and other troops.

Premium Member Bravo For Diversity

The show's leading lady sports a goatee 
  Braided armpits bear her understudy
Times have changed at the university
  The cast now picked for its diversity

Two Hispanics, two Poles, and two Russkis
  Five from the country and five from cities
Cuban nationals who know how to ski 
  African-Americans named Trotsky... 

Don't know their lines, but the show must go on
  They speak utter nonsense, babbling on
Down comes the curtain, the audience stunned
  Angrily demanding a full refund

Yet one audience member shouts 'Bravo'
  ~ An albino Sudanese Eskimo


Relocation

Saw a man at a snowy bus stop

Tall and lean

Black as black can be

Probably in his Sunday best

This Monday morning.

My guess Sudanese.

Here on compassionate grounds

Home country ripped apart

Tribal and religious strife.

What might he have seen Lord?

What atrocities and robbery?

What loved ones abandoned?

With no other apparent choice?

Does he have English

Can he handle this

Awful Waterloo cold

This awful Western smugness

To the new and misunderstood?

Help him Father

If it is a search

In faltering words

For a job

For some needed training

For a place to bed down.

In Jesus’ name.

And I drive by

These careful words and images

My only coins

In the stranger’s cup.

Until perhaps next time…

Tears of a Refugee Child

Born into suffering

Born to be malnourished

Born in the bush

Born on the run

Born under the umbrella of poverty

 

Born to be a refugee

Born in the middle of despair

Born in worries

Born in the frightful time

Born with the horrified blood

 

Son of the scream

Daughter of bombs

Sister of landmines

Brother of war tanks

Grandson of affliction

 

Born to see death at infancy

Born to either die or escape death by a nose

Son of the land of chaos

Daughter of the nation of affliction

Born to suckle sorrow

 

Born to be a refugee in his own land

Born to be a refugee in her own land

Born to suffer at infancy

Born to worry of chaos and admire peace which won’t come soon

The tears of a South Sudanese child

Love and Care

Love and care

It is movables love plus care
Obtained to our mom
It real love I dare
We found from our real mom
It is loved future seen
Given by our black mom

Love and fear

It is totally fear
Regenerated from our dad
Though it is clear
Good manner from our dad

Love and help

Help me my blood sister
We are born to assist each other and not fight
My direction and teacher
Show me where to reach my peace fetcher

Love and fight

Let me look
Behold my little best
Israel and Pakistan,
The brotherhood states never best
Me and you
Not sister and you
Construct a developmental fight
A peaceful fight
Though I’m a real Sudanese
I can cope to be a real sweetish

Love and life

Never pretend a knife
Cutting a beef life
You are the husband of the wife
Blame me not
I’m in life
Censure me not 
I gonna have a real life
To see my back not to admire my fore

Love and care and fear and help and fight and life
A real and definite friend do
An exe and a hole
Other dig and the other cut
Let us become 
The knife of peace
To cut the beef of wars
The reddish of betrayal
Likely, notably the blackness of poverty

Sexiness

SEXINESS

Knowing me as a sensitive and caring person,
What I find sexy, as you may have suspected,
(Although by rationalizing the situation it will only worsen)
Is based on real  people with whom I have been connected

For example dark hair about jaw length
A dress with a flared skirt and narrow white hem
Chubby women with very little strength
And the Sudanese national anthem

Not to mention the long-haired beauty
When  I was fourteen who liked me to divest her
And who showed  me  my duty
In her daddy’s combine-harvester

Oh,  those   John Deere s  still send me to goose bumps
Or a really  big  Massey Ferguson  with platform attachment
Can be even better than the weak ladies with plump rumps
In generating sexual excitement

I do not wish to discuss the anthem of Sudan
Although you may be  curious
Because it involved not a woman but  a man
Whose affection turned out to be spurious

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Written, tongue-in-cheek,  by Sydney Peck
Entered in Nette Onclaud's  Contest 	SEXY!

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