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Poems On / About AFRICA  2/10/2016 6:08:44 PM
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Dear Recipient: You have won the lottery.
Please add this address to your address book immediately so that we have our fishhookers in you from the start. This is VIP BENDSMORE from the obscure village of Pretendmore in East South Africa; we have upwards of ThirtyThree Millions Gold Bullions Cubes taken from the diamond mines of Kenya. Can you send us all your unknown information so we can fleece your pockets with our real inventions avarice and greed; we aim our guns to please. Send us nammes we need addresses we want numbers dates of birth and places we need to knoe the namme of all the ancestors so we can dig them up and do it to them also we need money in the form of PayPal send it to us by the score. You are also the one billionth customer we have a bonus a real raw diamond taken from the belly of the statue of the Qyeen of Sheba standing in front of the only Pyramid left in South Africa the Temple of Dome. We will send you the diamond when southern places freezes over Rodger and outside the ball one a swing and a miss the Swiss have many freebank accounts we want several more. To verify the account we will need the account number. Make the money in various denominations marked in small bills at least less than the Hundred Dollars so prone to counterfeit. So ewe want to be a writer it is not easy ewe to consistently come up with new ideas day after day document after document and make it pleasing to the eye and to the public view. Remit the African Qyeen list the holdings in your vault one by naked one send the stain sealed cartons with the nammes of all deceased upon them make the Africa River falter in its flow with barges laden with the heaps of dough. Remit mee send it rather quickly the need is efferpheasant rapid transit in my Africa Jungle is the local version of the snail the backs of Natives's heavy laden with the burdens of the way upon the lithe black ebon forms they sway in rhythms like a long slick serpent moving in a row. Please add Seventy five cents for deposit. We found a founder he will send us all the more he is the President of Baltimore the Oriel. Ewe remember him the long tall one with the largesse straw hat the one who did the 7 Up commercial oh did eye say HAT no his head was shiny bald. Try saying that one quickly in the cold.
Charles Hice

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A Lost African

From africa my mama, my very old jelly hardened, when i wander beyond the borders caring if the sun burns my dark skin. When mother would roll rapper, flagging handkerchief like feathers of white peaches. And make several turns like a landing huwk and grasp the radial rythm of a coloqual music. To foreign hands my mama: breaths of the flutists of africa, vallies strolling beside mountains'africa until now where find your remains'. In vultures nests my mama; this precious beeds of africa'your egg have been scratched by foreign fingers and he fears to reveal you to these intruders' O! but i will not deny, the tender care of mama my.
Ezekiel Geoffery

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Titanic Tale

Our life in the hand of the insurgence, we have heard of boko in some year ago.so stand you tall Africa, stand you cling Nigeria.they have made our Goodluck, badluck in the titan history of west africa.making our leaders emergence titular, of kolanut.we cry for the deaths of our beloved great future leaders, when death is busy screaming i want no more death. Haram thugs in the jungle with our girls, thrashing out tears from their eyes.therming the country in tempest swelter.now we have to do some thing but not with our force, not with our leaders but the question here is! With who.cause our negotiation have paid a price to our corruption. We only have necks to fight this anomic stars, but have no head to see.but with our inner quizzical soul we can win our fight with trust.
Egbe Chris

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African Songs.

For i wrote so long a letter. To Mayombe and Anoah. Telling her I will marry when i want. FOR THE BEAUTIFUL ONES ARE NOT YET BORN. But burried in the Anthillss of the savannah. Whilst we are still Waiting for the rain. We became the House of Hunger. IN THE COUNTRY OF OUR OWN. Gatherring Goats beats of wood. In the couming of the dry season. GAZZING Chivi Sunsets. Cry my Beloved AFRICA CRY. For they shall Burry Me in Africa.
Poet jerrimos mugweni(ZVAVANHUVEVHU)

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Poems On / About AFRICA