Love Poems About Africa or Africa Love Poems

Africa love poems and/or love poems about Africa. Read, share, and enjoy these Africa love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Kristopher Higgs |
Categories: absence, abuse, addiction, adventure, africa, age, allah, allegory, america, analogy, angel, anger, angst, animal, anniversary, april, art, august, autumn, baby, baptism, baseball, basketball, beach, beautiful, beauty, bereavement, best friend, betrayal, bible, bird, birth, birthday, black african american, blue, day, dedication, devotion, faith, happiness, lost love, love, me, passion, words,

While You Sleep

While you sleep I tell you all of the things I keep inside throughout day.
Now that you can hear but not listen I find them much easier to say.
My hopes, my dreams, my fears, and everything in between
Your subconscious hears so keen, or so it seems.
My tongue is soft; I speak so sweetly 
Knowing your reaction will never greet me.

Tonight will be different in what I want you to know.
It has everything to do with what I can’t help but show.
I hold no claim to any religion but you’ve given me a place for my faith.
Somewhere it will never stale or lose its lavish taste.
You’ve shown me something I can see, touch, and feel, 
And so before it I choose to kneel.

I know I don’t say it but I miss you every day.
Sitting, thinking of the perfect words to be my choice,
Yet when you call I can’t find any of the right words to say.
I’m just happy to finally hear your voice.
Even just a moment is enough to sooth my heavy heart;
Fearing the ends of conversations knowing we’ll have to part.

I’ll never be too far from you, always within arm’s reach,
And in your days of darkness I’ll be the light that you will seek.
I’ll never let you leave too far from me, I’ll stay close behind you in this world;
Secretly protecting what is mine, you will always be my girl.
I only want the best for you so the best of me I will employ.
Faithfully yours, I will always be your boy.

I close my eyes and kiss your soft sweet lips
And see the very best of you in loving bliss.
I see past the physical which makes you attractive
And focus on the things I can’t see in which I’m attracted.
Your thoughts I’d love to hear them all.
Of the things you speak disinterest never makes its call.

My day will come, I know someday I’ll be the only one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give, to love unconditionally.
Yes our day will come, I know someday we’ll be as one.
And you I will pursue viciously,
Because I’ve given you the greatest gift I can give… to love unconditionally.

Poem Details | by Zhane Robinson |
Categories: africa, freedom, love,

The Cost of Freedom

The cost of freedom has increased, the price went up.
It takes alot to be free, but the price is love.
And the PRIZE is love.
Not saying you have to sing; kumbaya around a fiery ring,
but voices and rainbow hands will raise high to the night sky
as we shake off shackles and chains
and they slide down
and wrap around
the original drum,
which beats and sings out song that'll never fall from the tongue.
It clicks shut, complete with lock and key.
And we are poor slaves joining hands with empty pockets 
and shackled hearts.
The cost of freedom has increased,
which is why when we form our ring,
there's a low drum beating in the dark.

Poem Details | by Abdulhafeez Oyewole |
Categories: africa, angel, beauty, body, desire, flower, girl, love, memory, pride,

Tiara in Her

This picture I pick is not her own,
It could be for a bimbo or a night trig
This picture with me is not her own,
It could be for a sissy or a bleaching wig.
This picture I hold is not her own,
It could be for a lousy or a neglected lass.
This picture with me is not her own,
It could be for a demon or a girlie class.

This picture I pick is no doubt her own,
It's obvious in her spotless face and her passionate grin.
This picture with me is really her own,
It's obvious in her modest crown and her sincere chin.
This picture I hold is no doubt her own,
It's obvious in her ideal stroll with her gorgeous rose.
This picture with me is really her own,
It's obvious in her charming blouse and her classy pose.

Poem Details | by Moses Sichach |
Categories: africa, dark, death, deep, feelings, funny, love,


As I stand by my coffer
Like the Ganges let my tears cleanse your soul
For I go to fight my demons 
And the cheers from the arena will echo through the world 
Let them forever whisper the moments we had 
For I learnt to kill the dead 

As I sit by my grave 
“I am not dead till you forget “in stone engrave
And this termites will feast me till am nothing I Rest in Distress
Let the soil absorb my sorrows
And the fruits remind you of the happiness we felt
For I learnt to kill the dead

As I sleep in the kiln
The world is my urn scatter me by the sea
And in the deepest trenches let my sins sink like debris
Let the wind Whisper my greatest deeds 
 And by your lips my legend will live
For I learnt to kill the Dead

As I take my seat in the Hades 
The everlasting fire warm my soul I am cold 
Burn my pain to ashes purify me to grace 
Let the screams be music to your ears 
Get a drink cheers my life celebrate  
For I learnt to kill the dead

Poem Details | by richard nnoli |
Categories: africa, faith, for her, funny love, hilarious, me, tribute,

Am in love with a prostitute

am in love with a prostitute
a prostitute is a women too
some are force to prostitute
through hardships
some just love sex and money
some are just in slave to sex 
some are happy to have it 
as a life style
still prostitute are women too

am in love with a prostitute
am young and sensitive
don't blame my ego 
but think about my quest 
in life 
in search of live I respect
every kind of human
in different ways of 
works and shadows 
life caves 
I meet an intelligent lady 
she was poor but real 
she was smart but 
less privileged in her 
society were corruption
eats up all what belong 
to her citizens that don't 
exclude her 
so she sort for a means 
in escape of poverty and
that ends her up to 
despite other means 

am in love with a prostitute
am young and sensitive 
I follow my mind 
when I need grow in 
knowledge it don't 
matter who is the one 
involve life can be funny 
when you look odd
in the eye of people 
who are not perfect
yet they keep your 
record in their frustrated
mind to judge others
mistake with out 
no permission nor respect
and if I am among them
I couldn't have had the 
knowledge I gather 
in a relationship 
with a prostitute

Poem Details | by Patrick Ituma |
Categories: absence, africa, allusion, first love, friendship, longing, true love,

My Fantasy

Lot of rivers flow through cracked channels of my humble mind
As I swim through my broken heart
I felt so disturbed and sad
Then I asked is love an illusion?

Roses glow right n front of me
As I stretch my hand to touch of her spotless flowers
The beauty dried right in front of me
Will I ever be in love I cried 
As I journey throw my  broken heart

Alas alas a bright Rose appears from afar
It's beauty like the Mediterranean silky milky linen
On the back of black Chaldean maidens of pure beauty 
I saw her smile towards me as I cried
With my hands stretched out to grab are ebony long slender sweet hand 
I woke from the sleep I fell into 
Then I cried Ogechi it's not really fair
I guess u like being my fantasy

Poem Details | by Okonkwo Ifeanyichukwu |
Categories: abuse, africa, anger, anxiety, betrayal, birth, black love,


My people I have seen seas of pains
With series of painted assaults and
Hatred from elites of illiteracy
My people no not again my people
For it is the same people that gives
Us this sad injection of deprivation
If I should sit down to eat even
With out hunger I will eat more than
A glutton after surviving the Jos 
They have crushed our plates with
Food by bending Benue to bleed
Zamfra to bleed
Nkpor with blood erosion
Leaving my home will not solve
The blood suckers problem
But to stay back with metal fellows
To fight back as a scholar
Let the pains of the innocent ones
Be respected
Let the bombers be given death of
The law to swallow our bones are
Broken beyond medication
Vultures are tired of eating the flesh
Of our young men
Our children and our women of
One day the blood of justice will
Bath this barbaric culprits

Poem Details | by Leben Panashe Kabete |
Categories: africa, deep, desire, imagery, life, sad love, woman,

Africa,All I need is love

She has the eyes of a lion and the smile of a fairy
She has the claws of a bear and the cuteness of a kitten
She unlocks secured caves of hearts
In silence she sings summoning mantras
In peace she wages war against the sun
In life she nurses death with her soiled hands 
She is a daughter of the soil and she has her lips to my neck
Africa,all I need is love

She walks softly in the sanctuary while she runs through avenues of minds
Those that behold her seductive frame become free slaves
Her curves burst nerves and destroy holy matrimony
In her tongue lies juices that fuel sparks of fire in blood lines
There is something about the way she spreads her wings
Something about the way she walks on water ,it's fishy
She fishes for souls in pools of African emancipation
She is a daughter of the soil and she has her lips to my neck
Africa,all I need is love

Her hands resurrect dead souls while her words kills them
She likes to be liked, her likeness is likable but her shadow is unpopular among my people
She wears expensive robes and cheap shoes
Her paths are straight but her ways are as crooked as the lines on hell's map
She is the candle type,she melts if you are that good
Yet her heart remains strong ,standing unshaken and outstanding
She connects easily with both nature and the underworld
She makes you wonder and understand
She shakes trees like the wind
She conceives in the mind
Her chariot brings forth gold and bronze
She is a daughter of the soil and she has her lips to my neck
Africa,all I need is love


Poem Details | by Young King sa |
Categories: africa, art, rap, slam, spoken word, , literature,

Why i hate Rap haters, but love Poetry

Dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge
Poetic lifeguards use applause to save lives
When you see rap flying far from poetry's interests


Fasten your seat-belt and enjoy the bloody verbal battle
In sessions poetry speaks in tones of a crying soul
Rap is built on concrete rhythms mixed with first bricks of venomous alphabets
Rap is an angry poem
Rap is poetry 
but poetry will never rap like rappers air polluting words to poet their ideas
I mean, if rap is literature, 
why has it started so many wars between ideas

Walls of belongings in the middle of fear
Appre-ciate and question things

Blind words can see the difference
Why has rap created rivals in many societies
Haters hate us 
While poetry stinks of welcoming joints
Modern rap has a stench of juvenile points 
I played this word game in my head
Ones or twice 
I lost to a bunch of middle fingers spider webbed on the roof of my creations
Haters, my mates 

Rap can be spoken in sign language
Both animals eat words and poop spoken rhythms
Both body languages undress opinions in different approaches when speaking crises
Poetry's violent approach comes from humans who speak to teach
My poetry likes the anxiety of a beat

I hate material rap haters
I intend to seed Africa’s womb with baby words to grow poetry in your rap choices

Art cannot be written off, long as there's soul in that flash, there's life before trash
I recently adopted a second born skin
My child is a shield blocking weakness of my bones to animal views
My meaning is behind the lens of my third eye
I wish i can share my visual thoughts in a language 
louder than the sound of a broken TV reception
Brake the eyes of stillness
I wish i can walk my words of metaphors injecting needles of knowledge
With no fear 
My missionary position
I intend to seed Africa’s womb

(c) Raymond Ngomane

Poem Details | by Young King sa |
Categories: abuse, addiction, africa, anti bullying, slam, spoken word,

Love Slogans

Love left them hanging in the air
They sang slogans
They rained tears though pain was blur and cloudy,
Bully and partly cloudy
Illusions got glued in their slogans
Their love was outrageous and bouncy 

Those short tempered lovers 
Sang songs for their drunken worries
They saw no pain though love was forever sour and chained 

Pain buried himself under pleasurable bedroom eyes
Resurrected on sunny knights with no weight 
Measured their smiles 
And he found odd numbers in their cupid time zone

Days when pressure became their treasure 
Pain snitched in the dark and paused on bedroom eyes
Eyes that vacuumed lust 
Previously crowned lust 
that never lasted long enough to grave all rust 
They sang love songs in anger
On and on they sang courage amplifying worries

Their jaws were breaking laws
Our jaws are breaking laws

I long to save them from this lost in translation watchwords 
I am you in this Poetry
Never wash your face before my words
Remember my seeds
The fruits planted on concrete brains
Left to grow strength and passion
Building castles of hope 

Love seeks more woods and light to walk its blindness sometimes
The defensive jelly 
Smoothly rubbed to take away skin value
Chocolate statues lost in the streets of love
 Singing worried slogans

Their jaws were breaking laws
Our jaws are breaking laws
Pointing blames with no hands and fingers
They swim out of the ocean 
The ocean of tears that make killer waves in passion
Like fish 
They could not breathe 
Trouble was or is their home
They sing gospel in their drunken love

Their jaws were breaking laws
Our jaws are breaking laws

By force they speak jumpy jaws
They are meant to hurt,
burn and kill gender laws
By force they chisel their hips to diesel all body postures
For no reason
By force they sing gross slogans of love
In jumpy jaws
They get stark inside antagonistic love
In jumpy jaws
Pre-rehearsed parent-hood
Love left them hanging in the air

© Raymond Ngomane 

Poem Details | by Mohamed Salih |
Categories: africa, cousin, creation, feelings, happiness, love, wife,

The Deep-Rooted-Tree

It never falls never drys,greens forever
Whenever it extends,it grows moreover
Our love is like that tree,greens forever
On the deep rooted tree,friends forever
Each bird sings fruitly ,And sends clever
Each leave drops water and rains lever
We runabout  as pilgrims every year

Poem Details | by Akua Lore Zaan |
Categories: africa, black african american, black love, desire, education, identity, inspirational, prejudice, race, racism, slavery, uplifting,

Hidden Figures

I am black and I say to kindred flames...
Never assert nor cry "things are the same".

It is the height of dishonor to our fathers,
Our hidden figures of the past, and our martyrs.

We no longer must hideNo need for underground trains.
Do not keep blaming injusticeIt's a crooked cane.

Wait for the hand of the oppressor? That is madness!
Why would the oppressed ask the slave owner for access?

Let's take it upon our lettered selves to advance.
So, do not say "things are the same"Now is our chance!

If one hidden figure can succeed, there are no excuses.
If one hidden figure has engineered, where are the nooses?

It is a disgrace to our history to assert "things are the same".
It is a dishonor to our hidden figures...a noose and a chain.

Poem Details | by Pheko Motaung |
Categories: africa,

Color of love

You sizzle in mystic purple

Poem Details | by Natasha Horton |
Categories: africa, america, angel, basketball, betrayal, bridal shower, cute love,


Separation rules the nation it seems
Our race decrease the identity that cannot be redeemed

Yes we have amicable lives whom still believe in MLK's dream
The steam from our hatred of deceit and misfortune 
Has brought our brains to be washed in them

I feel like my people don't understand fear
Only the kind that could end your life or when the boys in blue are near

It's very rare for a black community to have unity
Even though their own may bring forth destruction or present a bad opportunity

Blind in a path of darkness, deciding to change but it's too late
Went down the wrong road and took the bait

Putting ourselves in situations we didn't want to create
It's Satan's job to keep you in that place

But God said to repent and He'll forgive and it'll be erased
What's happening to us in this world today?
It's very obvious where some of our people's priorities lay

Are we really that distracted
On the hottest rapper, shoes, money, and fashion
Disaster is right around the corner while your're ignoring the real problem that's about to happen

Reactions are suppose to be in the realm of wisdom
Being in your feelings can sometimes be the end of your feedom

Just listen to what people say and what they do
Why? Trust me, they are watching your every move

You were born to win and not loose
Let's encourage one another and not be abused

By those who taught us the false hood of our heritage
For it goes beyond Harriett Tubman

We are royalty 
Kings and Queens with true loyalty

Now we have become jokers and servants
Stripped for our knowledge to be non-observant

To follow the rules of this land
Limits us by a simple code through the government's hands

Tobacco and liquor stores on every corner
Yet shutdown the programs the kept our kids out of trouble

Double negatives that play in our lives
Despise those who take our future for granted and not recognize that we were structured not to survive 

Open your eyes
For time is not on our side

Never was and never will be
Yet we still have control of what we face and see

Clock is ticking 
No more wishing 

That circumstances will change 
Yes, faith can rearrange all things

Pray about it, trust and witness your abundance 
For we have always been the chosen ones from each end of the compass

Wake up and know who you are
For God has brought us this far to reach the stars

Poem Details | by njeri hunjeri |
Categories: africa, arabic, culture, international, love, religion, world,

My Best Teacher

I had some very good primary school teachers who were awesome 
But in all my schooling, one of my college instructors stood out to be super awesome

In our first day of class we all sat on a beautiful mat that she had acquired from one of her travels to a middle eastern country
Then we drank tea in tiny little cups
This is a welcoming gesture that she had learnt from her travels
This special gesture always reminds me of the book Three Cups of Tea
We were about twelve students, about five minorities 
It was called World Studies

That little gesture brought all of us closer

On our last day of class we had an international potluck where we each brought food from our different cultures and ethnic backgrounds
Am sure God was smilling on that day as he watched us try each other's foods and learn about each other through it

I remember a story she told us of how she wore a niqab to her church and stood by the door as a greeter
She talked of how most people avoided her direction, some not even looking at her

She was this petite white woman
She had travelled to twenty something countries worldwide doing missionary work
She had walked on soils where women were regarded inferior and unworthy 
She had put her hands during her missions, in places where white people were loathed

But even with some of the dire situations she found herself into, she still had that caring and loving heart

I remember the projects we did for refugees 
Another of her many passions
She provided healthcare, education and assisted with basic needs acquisitions for them

I learnt that we can all sit down, have a cup of tea, put down our differences and accept each, 
to make this world a peaceful place

Poem Details | by Philip Odiete |
Categories: africa, brother, cute love, dream, sorrow, trust, war,

A lonely evening

In many dreams of you, I wish
If I could get my hands on the wings
If only I could come over to you now, 
It would be the best moment in my life.
Alone in a cool evening
With the light of a candle and the breeze from afar
And then the moment would draw close
And the night would become our friend

And nature would support our breathe
And our dream would seem simple
And nightmare be far from us
For the moment would be the beginning of a new era
And the dawn would bring joy
Happiness and love 

Poem Details | by Victor Alexander |
Categories: africa, love, pride,



My Africa; oh my beautiful Africa
Words of your past glories gladdens my heart
History embeds in her heart; stories of you Africa
Ages through ages; you gave birth to men of brave hearts
Expectation didn’t expect much from you Africa
Yet, you tried your best to live up to expectations
Your 18th to 20th century ancestors suffered invasion of your lands
Helpless and ignorant; they suffered a lot from the invaders of your land
With eyes that can only watch; they watched your cultures drift away
Today, with my heart that can also love; my love for you Africa will never drift away.

I thank you God for having created me black
The blacks are Africans; Africa is black
It feels very natural to be a natural African; an Africa African
Beyond the deserts, out of the forests and above the mountains of Africa
There will never be a need for me to introduce myself as an African
Everywhere I go, anybody that sees me sees Africa
I am proud of our lands; the brave son of the soil
Some fools don’t take pride in our land; the name Africa they soil
Home and abroad; we all share the same ancestral lineage of the 3rd century Africans
Today, Africa is for all and not just for Africans.

Oh my lovely Africa!
I need not open my eyes to see the splendour of your beauty
The caress of your sun warms my black skin
I only need to look up and see the clearness of your skies
I cannot swim to swim enough of your charming waters
The birds sing in glory of your proud high mountains
Your land is so rich in minerals and natural resources
Not even natural disasters can cause disasters to us
The earthquakes and tsunamis are still myths to your people
I take pride in you my Africa.

											D’ Poetic Beast

Poem Details | by richard nnoli |
Categories: africa, care, caregiving, cheer up, encouraging, friendship, love,

Repeat after me

       Repeat after me
Is good to be good
For one good turn deserve another 
As kindness is a healing 
To the wound unseen

So now repeat after me
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race
When you receive it you 
Pass it on 
Oh repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race 
When you receive it you 
Pass it on 

How can we make the world 
A better place if we are not 
Kind to each other 
How can we grow if we don't 
Care for each other 
How can life be when there is no 
For with just a share of kindness 
Heaven is likely on our feet 

So now repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race 
When you receive it you 
pass it on 
Oh repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race 
When you receive it you
Pass it on 

I wonder why people now 
So scared
So scared to show kindness
Guess that is the least at least 
All people can share among ourselves
For a little kindness 
Goes a long long way 

So now repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton
On a relay race
When you receive it you
Pass it on 
Oh repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
On a relay race 
When you receive it you 
Pass it on

Life is beautiful 
There are lots of joy to earn 
When kindness is shared 
Among our selves
 we all need care
Who is careless is lifeless
when kindness comes 
Your way then you could feel 
A joy of being with a heart healed 
In life is good to be good

So now repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race 
When you receive it you 
pass it on
Oh repeat after me 
Kindness is like a baton 
In a relay race 
When you receive it you
 pass It on 
I rest my case

Poem Details | by john chizoba vincent |
Categories: africa, age, art,

figures of my love


No one recognises when love begins
But we know when it ends
A flower cannot blossom without a sunshine
And men cannot live without love 
So in the nouns of my heart I love you
Through the verb of my love I cherish you

But the adverb of my love will multiply audibly
In the adjective of my wisdown I beautify you amicably
Prepositioned the thought of my heart for good
In the conjuction between love and hatred

Through the pronoun of two beings
We will fly higher so that they exclaimed
What love is to those in the dark side 
On that day of our love, beautiful virgins will faints
On seeing the colourful love English we've made

Poem Details | by kevin goodrum |
Categories: africa, love,

Nubian Queen

My heart skipped a beat
When I saw you
I heard your voice
Damn I thought it couldn’t be true
A Nubian Queen was  talking to me
I though they all passed away
When the world became brand new
My mind raceing
Of this beauty rush through my mind
Her skin , Her lips
 her curves ,her eyes
they made me insane
Lust wasn’t it
Love could it be
No it is to soon
Its admiration
Of beauty  that cannot be equaled to
I envy those who will have her
I dispeas all those who have hurt her
Cause they know not what she is
She is the Nubian queen
And To you my Black queen
Black queen
black queen
who’s beauty is never in between
who’s smile is always seen
You are what men crave for
And what women envy
My dear black queen
Hide nothing
my dear black queen
when they see you
They now what beauty really is
They try to compare you
to the goddess Isis herself
but in the they all know what is true
my dear black queen you
are what girls dream to be
you are the Beauty I have dreamed of
so to you my dear black queen
stay beautiful

Poem Details | by Nyonglema Pisoh |
Categories: africa, hate, history, home, love, memory,

The Grass is Greener

We’re not called upon to choose anything we live through;
Neither parent nor sibling nor school nor form of sinew;
Neither colour of hair or eye or skin,
Nor love or hate, nor loss or gain
Nor opportunities nor whence we comeSo much is true.

But as much as this truth I hold as true as sunlight,
I know that painful times will time to time alight
When with bitter phlegm you curse
The earth where you breathed first
And wish your day of birth were scratched by He with might.

I knowSame feelings have plagued my adult soul
And the wish for better home to make each day whole
Has been dashed by shameful news,
Where Hope, seeing Hitler, and 94’s Hutus,
Needs to hide its youth to stall the death toll.

But amidst pain, hate and bottled despair rife
There’s the rare love, innocent and hardly grasping to life.
For here, we can give our all
When we choose to keep you from a fall.
We really do it: humble, loving…just like the Lord’s life.

Yes, it’s easier to perceive the weeds in one’s garden
For the pastures beyond gleam in our myopia, hiding their burden.
And seeing that weed can cast a shadow
On all that’s sweet, but cause much ado
About the bitter parts, and it day by day your heart will harden.

Think of the evening breeze on the night grill,
Feeding the flames of a delicious family fish meal.
Think of hitting the unadulterated
Lands of hills where ancient rivers percolated
And happy goats skip, and cattle graze and one can feel

Life whizzing through rustling leaves of dancing old tree or reed,
Playing the music our ancestors learned to read,
Making your lungs touch their purpose,
Dazzling your eyes like a Jabbawockeez pose,
The music we’ve forgotten as we focus on some RSS feed.

Think of the youths wise with tradition re-enacting solemnly
The dances and music handed down from before when Ptolemy
Phrased ancient philosophical data,
To the time of the expansive empire of Sundiatta
Beads stomping the dust frantically in musical poetry.

Picture the pure darkness which crowds the silent night air,
Unveiling the marvellous dotted and scattered there
In the moonlit heavenly canvas,
Watching us from light years past,
And we fascinated by the sparkling magic they share.

So to sum it all up, I know it cannot be perfect,
And sometimes I rant and make massive graffiti of its defects,
But this home my parents chose
Still draws my spirit close,
For the bond is deeper, far deeper than human senses can detect.

(c) Nyonglema

Poem Details | by richard nnoli |
Categories: absence, abuse, africa, care, confusion, love,

Humans with out humanity

Humans without humanity    
So many time I wonder 
What it takes to be human 

So many times I wish 
Humans are more human 

So many inspiration
Pure throw the fall of the ink
From my pen 
Just to try revive humans 
Again to be human 

So many places I have been 
Traveling is a great education 
As I still see humans yet from 
Being human 

What is the use of humans
When we are not human

I guess may be till 
Thy kingdom come 
We still cant see beyond 
What we know to be human 

Is good to be human 
I never say so but 
Nature did
Am only a soul like every one 
As I ask till when 
Can humans of now 
Be human again ???????
is clear if human are few
So humanity is so far yet 
To come achievable 

Poem Details | by richard nnoli |
Categories: africa, cheer up, deep, miracle, uplifting,

Love energy

Love energy
Nature force so natural
Blissful with it mystics
From somewhere on here to heal
All of a sudden mood motivated
How come now the atmosphere 
Change right here within my circle 
A spiritual mystery 

Love energy
Nature force so powerful
Just with the eye I can see
To feel dat I can't see as well
With a touch my soul feel that 
Force from unknown 
How come I feel what is unseen
Yet it energy tells a lot in me

Love energy 
Nature force so spiritual
Connecting to an unseen energy
That lives in me 
As well all around me I 
Could see touch hear speak
And consume 
The volume of a motivation 
Out from no where 
Hit a push in me 
The feeling is so great
It open up my eye to see
Yet not how I feel it 
still I feel to see 
What a blessing this energy gave

Poem Details | by Rodgers Roger |
Categories: africa, america, christmas, i love you, romance, romantic,

Christmas Gifts

Him: I chose to sell my last possession 
A pocket watch my father gave me
To buy my love a gold comb
She has the fairest hair of gold
But lacks just a comb
I will let go of this watch 
For her to own a comb

Her: I chose to cut off my long hair,
My only beauty and pride
That i have kept since alpha
To buy my love a gold watch chain
So that he can wear it in his neck
And smile like the village chief

Him: Honey I bought for you a gold comb
Its the best i could afford
I sold my watch 
To get money to buy this
And now Here it is

Her: Sweetie I bought you a gold watch chain
Its the best I could afford
I cut off my hair
And sold it to the barber down street
To buy you this gold watch chain
For you my  only love

They all lost the last thing they treasured
For the most thing they desired
To show love 
On Christmas 
That they so much cared

Poem Details | by JAY JOHNSON |
Categories: absence, abuse, addiction, africa, age, allah, allegory, allusion, analogy, animal, anniversary, anti bullying, april, arabic, assonance, autumn, baby, beach, best friend, betrayal, bird, birthday, brother, daughter, death, faith, father, hope, life, loss, lost love, mother, nostalgia, religion, satire, sister, son, sympathy,



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.


Poem Details | by Gerald Kithinji |
Categories: africa,

I Love Africa

I love Africa, my beautiful Africa
I can roam in the bushes
I can run up the mountains
Down the valleys
Across the plains
Or get lost in the forests
Or the caves
I can soak the sun
On the sand at the beach 
Or bake in the desert sun
Until I should find an oasis
I can stand on the top of MtKilimanjaro 
And if that is too tall 
I can try the difficult MtKenya
And touch the floating cloud
I can swim in the ocean or in the lake 
Or in the dam or pond or paddle
I can also swim in the Nile or the Congo 
Or the Niger or the Zambezi or the Limpopo
Or a thousand other rivers 
I can catch kamongo in Lake Victoria 
Or the bream on Lake Tanganyika or Malawi 
Or bait the tiger fish in Kariba or Cahora Bassa
I can mine diamonds in Congo or Chiadzwa 
Dig for gold in Ghana or Tanzania
Or just pick gems and cowry shells wherever I roam
From Cape to Cairo and from Timbuktu to Mombasa
Or just in my dreams.

Poem Details | by Young King sa |
Categories: africa, angel, love, memory, mom, mother, words,

Mother Tongue

Sometimes i wish/
Her tongue/
Got louder/
When she speaks/

Baby tummies/
With history’s breeds/
Sky screening haters/

With her tongue/
She rapes/
Spring-cleaning haters/
She like it when she rapes/
She’s ours/

Though she’s vulgar/
She sees no blunders/
Her tongue grows rounder/
She feeds the universe/
Reaching sky roofs/

Hiding biters/
Verse after verse/
Poetry is ludicrous/
Her kids think/
She burns her tongue/
Sky screening haters/

Trying to taste her rhymes/
Political babies/
In vernacular/
Her poetry is hot/

In mix taped lingo/
Her poetry is fire/
A spark burning liars/
Flat tires/
Tears get verbalised/ 
Daughter of earth/
Born to live forever/

My mother's tongue

Poem Details | by Lebo Bopalamo |
Categories: africa, love,

If I could

If I could
I would write myself to death
and cripple my self to a non-xeno image
I would create a world of no end 
and sink to depths unending

I would write a song
with no descenible ending
that just says I am who I am
when no one knows
who I am

I would cripple 
every word I hear
to define me,
and I would cry for no reason
at all

I would light a spark
and give it a cryptic name
and I would sigh 
with every breath given to me
in delight

If I could
I would lie and I would try
to sing every verse 
my heart demands of me
and still 
I would cry
if no one 
cries along with me

And if my brother
says to me in fear
that history bears no truth...
I would sing and cry along
I would sing and cry in sync
for no truth bears a better strength 
than my brother singing and crying along

Poem Details | by Young King sa |
Categories: africa, angel, art, beautiful, first love, for her, forgiveness, life, little sister, lost love, love, men, sad love, wife,

One Minute Poem

My eyes can tell your mind is lost in time/ 
But my time was killed by the timers of life/ 
My eyes don't speak the same language as those who peel onions to save their time/ 
I cry because I love with all my heart in time/ 
I feel my heart is diving in time of rhymes / 
So I stand tall in time to save those who confused time before their time/ 
My time sparkles flames of love in search of kisses until goodbyes do us part/ 
God Damn at/ 
My mornings will not promise you definitions of making love to a poet/ 
It’s time I define my own time because this time multiplies rhymes of electrified kisses Amplified by seconds that makes time/
It’s times like this that blesses a lonely poet with parental kisses/
At that time/ 
My time told me squeeze her butt she will like it/ 
But what if my time caught me thinking backwards I questioned my time when I time my timing/ 
Maybe this is why I can’t finish this poem in time/ 
Remember when I said I am scared to admit other guys are cuter than me/ 
Well I felt like my time was missing something in seconds that makes time/ 
That's cos my time is not any seconds close to reality/
My time is never close to reality/ 

Poem Details | by Ken Carroll |
Categories: africa, desire, love,

My New Neighbor

My new neighbor
a lovely ebony girl
we go together
like day and now night
a beautiful swirl...

She just wants a good man
no matter his past
or how many girls he's screwed
a handsome romantic man...

Do they all know we are together?
them against us
do they realize
we copulate in our dreams at night?

You curled up around me
like a chocolate ribbon
we become omnipresent
ears closed to the world..

We are much like
yin and yang
in guise of darkness
leashed at our sides...

Your brown sugar broth
rich dark and warm
skin black as the night sky
into my room smooth and sultry
scented of amber love potions
exotic fruit from Africa
perfected in America
step into my wildest desires...
~ ~ ~ ~