Black Africa Poem by Andesikuteb yamusa

Let's talk about black Africa.
Me, yes I and rae will tell you about it all white.
Africa that compressed coal that is yet to yield its own diamonds.
White tar on every road that seeks its own direction.
That is black africa.

That melanin drenched species in a condemned, doom habitat which dwells with death.
Yet we are the worlds seed, God's own people.
He ploughed this land and fed us to the ground.

We will tell you about the lost ones, the ones that joined a chain gang and boarded foreign ships, horrific wagons of tears.
How about the ones left behind, digging, ploughing for wealth in their own yards and relinquishing it in a strangers pocket and yet smiling foolishly.

We want to tell you about all of them, the ones in the before, today and tomorrow.
In every nook and cranny of this beauty,
The call a continent.

Rae, will tell you about the ululating women.
The woman strapped with a seed on her back.
That grateful creature that thanks God for every grain of every crop, who knows the value of this mystery.
Therefore she values life of all the elemeny around her both seeds and tubers.

Or rather lets sit under a tree and wail, let the young and old tell us the wailers the tales yet unheard off or instead let us talk about these rhythm based people that eat, breathe and sleep Africa's rythym.

She choose to call them genesis
And I the thinker will call them beautiful.