AMANDA GORMAN, THE ROARING AFRIKAN LIONESS By Regnard Bishoza

AMANDA GORMAN, THE ROARING AFRIKAN LIONESS

I was taking a sip from my cup of tea
My hair follicles erected from inside
As the lioness was applauded vigorously
She was no one but bizarre Amanda.

Her voice for African slavery is louder
Her voice against injustice is louder
Cracking the compacted inhumanity
Inhumanity burying blackness in vain.

She is a true reflection of black race
Grown out of thorns, rose majestically
Like mount Kilimanjaro she rose higher
Her smile concealing intense bitterness.

Poet Laureate emerged extraordinarily
The young but her voice is louder
Carrying bruises and scars of humiliation
Maya Angelou like ancestry, brave voice.

©️ Regnard Bishoza

Sire-Land By Nura S. Abubakar

sire-land

The land is a scalpel
that incises well beings
without prowess of surgery.

The land is a termite
that eats innards of our ladders
like parasites in a bay window.

The land is a carpenter
that makes trouble-like-stools
for bottomlessness to sit on.

We are bricklayers on scaly scaffold
fixing blocks in dismay
like goats in a swimming pool.

©️Nura S Abubakar 2021

A Cupful By Sunny Okonudom

A Cupful

wishes are the needles with which
tomorrow’s dreams are weaved
so this morning i serve you something
more than a cupful of absent wishes

i serve a cupful
of love to the loveless
steaming with goodwill and grace
pearled with beauty and charm

a cupful of joy that knows no sorrow
brimming with heartwarming smiles
to smoothen that wrinkled brow
and bring back the joy of dawn

to the sick i serve one
laced with a sincere prayer
for strength and quick healing
to do the master’s bidding

a cupful to the weak
sugared with energy
and balmy draught to heal
the limbs broken by lethargy

to the lover and the loved
i send stores of wishes
like bowers of roses
bedecked with soothing kisses
and a heart that holds no grudges

©®Sunny Okonudom
22.01.2021

Force Not To Feel By Chichi Alintah

Force Not To Feel

You can’t make me feel it,I’m not yours
With you dead are my feelings
I’m sorry it had to be this way,
Never deliberate to be of my doing
Only him that’s mine can make me feel it
Feel the light in the dark moment of feelings
To turn me to love and call me love
Stiff will my skin be when you sip in
Nothing can penetrate to turn hard to soft
If our friendship you cherish
Force me not to feel me
Quit trying to try
Stop hugging to have
Stop making to marry
You can’t have what’s not yours
I’m for another that have not realized
While I wait let me be, force me not
Force is not good for love,
It kills love to leave it dry without sensation
My feelings are dead with you
I feel just friendship with you
Stop hurting yourself, please
I care to see you happy and not hurt
For when gone I am far away from you
What will you do?
How will you handle it?
I care to see you happy when gone I am
Force me not to feel…

2021 © Chichi Alintah
#mylovestory

WHEN MOON SMILED INTO MY EYES By Birendu Kr Sinha

WHEN MOON SMILED INTO MY EYES

When the moon last night smiled into my eyes
Feelings dormant did from inner deep arise
Floating adrift in the glimmering ocean
Moments mesmerized loosing their motion

Tall green aparrelledd brooding trees
Opened up their arms in the whispering breeze
The silver clad ambience wiped my sleep
My legs danced down the sleeping hills steep

My dreamy eyes locked with the blinking stars
Emeralds scattered beckoning from afar
Leaves bent down fondling my cheeks
Sweet abundance of mirth was at its peak

Inside this dream world beauty abound
Arcane esoteric silence sight and sound
Wandering through the woods in a moonlit night
What a joy never known with nature unite.

©️Birendu Kr Sinha

RUNNING MY RACE By Felix Ndukwadan Theman

Running My Race,

I have walked in this life to run my race,
And on the heels of my feet to tread my pace,
Though have desired to gain more space,
In this affrighted life but only his grace,
Can give on the benevolence of his will,

But I do not know if I have been fair,
To the things which have been to me so dear,
Though the tortuous roads I walked I do fear,
And had been my pain n without doubt crystal clear,
But let me tell the world my compelling story,

I have long doubted the strength of my capability,
To accomplish things noble from my activity,
Due to my seeming but unfeigned vulnerability,
And years have gone by n still sick of my ability,
In the earth I cherish and to me so dear,

I’ve starved not for riches nay to accomplish,
And have vigiled in the years past to establish,
The courage to face fires wicked n brutish,
Not prideful way my pitiful world to brandish,
My date with history is yet to be like the sun,

But I will stick to running this race without let,
Until my date like the shining northern star is made,
But if His grace though sufficient carries me not,
To render as willed n my end comes and late,
Tarry not to tell my story before my bones settle to dust,

Though not the annals of my attainment to render,
Nor the tales of my acquirement thats tender,
But the story of my struggle amidst lifes dangers,
While desiring to stride for victories here n farther,
I wont fail to hunger n run until my day is done,

For I know I must run the race,
On the feet of my heels the pace,
According to my god given grace,
I can tread and gain more space,
Victories can only be won every hour by his power,

©️Felix Ndukwadan Theman 2021

From the Heart of Tissy Taylor

I woke up Monday with the entire first verse pouring out, fumbling for my notes app on my phone in the wee hours….took few days to figure out what I wanted to do with it…enjoy

And just a poem not personal 🙂

What’s wrong with me
Aint, what it seems
Inside
A damn bursts
Thirsts
Whats left of me
It all feels
So bloody empty

What’s wrong with me
All of this blue
Strangles
Casting stones
Alone
Won’t you help me
Help me please
Pray for my release

What’s wrong with me
Nothing to see
Missing
Lost in time
Cursed
This wretched mind
Spinning wild
Lonely is the child

What’s wrong with me?

The Protest of Masemba By Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

The Protest of Masemba

I have heard your words,
But I can find no reason
Why I should obey you;
I would rather die…!
I look for some reason
Why I should obey you,
And I find not the smallest.
If it should be friendship
That you sailed for;
I am ready for it,
Today and forever;
But I will not be your subject…
If it should be war
That itches your buttocks,
So is what you desire,
Then my hands didn’t remain
In my mother’s womb…
I do not fall at your flannel feet,
For you’re God’s bit of dust as I am…
I am sultan in my land;
You’re sultan there in yours,
But listen to me:
I do not say you should obey me,
For I know you’re a free man,
As for me,
I will not come to you,
And if you’re strong enough for it,
Then come and fetch me…

©Kabedoopong Piddo Ddibe’st

POETIC JUSTICE 172 -By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

YES, I KNOW YOU ARE NOT

Why waste wealth of time
Trying to convince the hearts of stone
That you’re what is sublime
Let them be blowing their rugged horn
You know that you aren’t a geek
You are the blossoming flower
An epitome of what they seek
But can’t find despite their power

I have shared a piece of your own mind
Served hot on a platter of gold
In assiduous pain, I followed you behind
Your spirit is naught but bold
That sends shivers to their spine
Keep piloting priority that makes you unique
Don’t deviate from your passion’s line
You’ve no need to prove the worth of your beak

You have walked your walk
Even in the scorching belly of the sadistic Sahara
You have talked your talk
Despite the venomous dictates of the Savannah
The more your flag flies
The more your accolades begem the mantelpiece
You belong to the skies
Do fly always with the sparkling royal geese
Copyright©William Warigon 2019

POETIC JUSTICE 171 By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

TEXTUAL FEELING

These books around me
Smelling fresh giving new lease of life
They are knowledge’s sea
Their depth educates for needed drive
The words embedded therein are food
To the soul and the spirit
Give me a gift of a book, that is good
Powerfully, I’ll soar with a lilt

Books have healed my broken heart
And hushed my harsh loneliness
Reading has become a loved up art
It rains down on me happiness
The book at hand
Is more worthy than money.My own friend,
If you do understand
Grab a book, be better, knowledge won’t end

Navigate through the jungle of ignorance
Taste the tanginess in the books’ breath
Be immersed in their wisdomic parlance
To your brain activity, add to its strength

The books I read have nobility
Each with its flair and smooth style
To fit my moods and activity
Keeping my intellectual field fertile
They are treasured beyond measure
Some may abhor
Others do adore
Love them, keep them like a treasure

Copyright©William Warigon™2019
(Happy Book Reading Day!👍👍💕😁)

POETIC JUSTICE 170 By Mshinaram Warigon Ahrey

WHERE TRUTH LIES

Truth, where do you lie?
Lie, where is your truth?
Repeatedly, the truth turns to dust
By the lies retold over and over again
The forbidden territory
Has been desecrated by the thorned tongue
That spews venom
Worse than the black mouthed mamba

Rhetoric so sweet
Like the Savannah’s sugar
Reality is chased to take a flight
Good reason lured to the barn
Of chicanery and charades
Facaded faces fanciful in fakery fair find
Repose in the cloisters of deception
Heroes of hell in angelic mien

Their paws gnash at harmony
But their tongues preach peace
They sing the best love songs
But their daggers are bloodied
Like the paraphernalia of war
Wherever they set their feet
Sweet dirges pervades the air
They bathe in sorrowful tears

They have perfected the art
Of pure, holy deception
Trust them at your peril
My ears are grassed by the manure
Of their potent lies
No more would my eyes be wooled
I have seen the light
No more would I be a doormat

Copyright©William Warigon™2019

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN By Joseph Aboagye

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

image.jpeg

Dear head,
The winner of the country’s bread
I am a seed of Africa; a denounced street child
The manifestation of my vanguard’s greed

Blessed with the beauty of Nature
Where rests the beauty of Africa?

Dear Minister,
Her beauty is sacred to be wrapped in extortion
Why threaten her with your gross corruption?
The chronic disease; reciprocal to generation

I wonder if your seat is clean
For no man seated leaves a record clean!

Dear retinue,
When is the resurrection of Africa due?
Keep the toil of our forefathers a divine clue
The wrong steps by the leaders must warn you

Oh my motherland, you never can be accursed!
Patriotic black child, heal Africa; heal the world!

Copyright Aboagye Joseph © 2019