Emmanuel Aneto

My Mother Africa - Poem by Emmanuel Aneto

Oh! why still grope at night
with the light to give you sight
though old but why so cold
to attain the holds of the old

Mother Africa! wake up! it's morning
get ready and get to work
granny, see! you're ageing and bending
yet no memorable memories to make

Oh! mother my sweet mother
how the white man deflowered you
leaving you black and blue
when you were naive and tender

Ah! the beautiful moonlight stories you told me
as a village virgin belle
you gallivanted round the village square
as young men drool and stare

As a baby you cuddled me
I long still for your sweet breast milk
that suckled me
now it's dried up like ink

Oh! what stark illusory
that drowned us when you were young
a pretty, promising, pregnant mother minds bury
artist's voices ran mad for a sweet delivery song

You are rich and still strong mother Africa,
use your wealth! beam your strength
behold your sisters Europe and America
then strike your chest and be penitent

All nights long on my bed I think
my eyes wink and blink
but never for sleep sink
bleak! so bleak! seems the future
yet hope glitters with piercing pressure

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 25, 2010

Poem Edited: Monday, February 28, 2011

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