Shut your white mouthe please!
Dont insult my colour
Or God may hear this
You say:
I crossed seven seas to lighten the dark coast
Purifying their souls hitherto
Dare me: if you boast further
Dont die like die
Or my ancestors may visit you in your dreams
Or Africans may fight a salient war of collars
Dare me; if you boast further
God may hear this
I inherited the Orisa From my fathers father
My mothers mother made my pot if charms
Without sentiment of civility
My black pottage was happy
God may hear this: dare me
You brought confusion like green grass snake
Yet, you boast your paths on my coast
God may hear this: dare me
More of your dresses drove my sisters naked
More of your convicts saw my brothers scrotums below their buttocks
Believe me: God may hear this
II
Africans my sibblings
Not your faults
Africans my sibblings
Blame the white Esu
Africans my sibblings
Dont forget: we used to be Africans
Before the white esu came like a dove
You knew what she did
Slept with our fathers
Made our mothers second class
Bore children like sea-sand
Africans my sibblings
Not you fault
Africans my sibblings
We are blacks not dark
Its time we reveal the reviewed
The clarion songs
The song of pride, of dignity
The song - Our Emblem
We are Africans
Where darkness run errands
To light and peace
We are Africans
Where seasons change its garments
With comfort sigh
We are Africans
Leveraged with pure souls
Clothed on a black hue.
Note:
This poem is a solidarity poem about Africans. What motivated my scribbling is simply how Africans are totally forgetting their identity like who they are? where they come from? and where they are going to. This is a call-back-to-the-craddle poem to all post modern Africans at large.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem