Browsing Tag

African poet

I am a Poet By Sengri

If you could see me now,
You would know that I’m itching to write again.
I’m dying to let it flow through my fingers onto this paper.
If you could see me now,
You would know that I can’t bear it anymore,
Rather I say the passion is ripping me apart.

I’m waiting for you…

Society My Home By Catherine Banda

Society, my home,
Society, my refuge,
From time unknown,
You have been my haven.

I cry, I weep,
When all I see is that you are now
A technologically torn area.
What was our unity force
When I wandered into the depth and breadth of your beauty
Has become our contender.

We have become adversaries
And strangers in one abode.

Society,…

The Sinner’s Prayer

Heavenly Father,
hear my weeping prayer.

I am a rotten apple,
a bad element,
of the holy and sacred equation.

Unloved,
unworthy,
undeserved, I am,

because of me planting demonic seeds,
and watering them,
in my lifeless and dead spiritual garden.

I saw unholy statutes,
that enticed me,
and I took a sip of sins,
and bad deeds.

In my time of deep darkness,
I…

A Soul Torn, A Spirit Unbroken by Shamyne Mwila

Shamyne Doreen Mwila

A soul so bright,
Torn apart by darkness and endless fight.
Bipolar disorder’s waves crash on her shore,
As schizophrenia’s whispers echo evermore.

Her loved ones, they couldn’t understand,
The turmoil raged like a stormy land.
They rejected her with words that cut deep,
Leaving her to face the demons, asleep.

Her thoughts, a jumbled…

POEM: African

My name is an African daughter
They took my childhood from me
I became the daughter of Achilles
I’ve been worried
I’ve been hungry
I’ve suffered
I was a kid.

I grew up early,
Like all the unfortunate women of this land
Life is too hard –
Life is cruel, unfortunately cruel

Life is unfair to women of this land
Life…

There’s a World Elsewhere

It seemed like it the other noon,
Heat’d by the sun,
Slapp’d by the winds.
The ocean,
A few flirts.

From suns to heatwaves,
Waves to winds,
Winds to evolution of creations,
Nothing against time can make a difference.

Pluck’d, out of place,
The conceited, boring acquaintances
As the sides of a two-day rose flower,
Growth and death,
All in none.

How do…