Black Poetry : Africa Has Return The Calling Of The Universe

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by ASHANTA, Sep 1, 2003.


    ASHANTA Well-Known Member MEMBER

    United States
    Jan 15, 2003
    Likes Received:
    Brooklyn N. Y.
    Africa The Calling Of The Universe

    Oh thou face is covered with Sand,
    as I raise from the breeze ,
    that drifts across my face.
    Oh who is thou who wears my name,
    Scream the words of thy ancestors,
    I the Ancient dust, turns as my legacy is un-just,
    I cannot sleep, I must rise,
    to protect my legacy. Shades of insanity,
    pretense of humanity,
    call me an empty shell of Ancient death,
    what do they look like? My self,
    I cannot protect me from me.
    Movements that dignify my temple,
    for reasons of greed,
    the deceptions of a want to be.

    Thy children that carry the torch let your words,
    rise upon the east, the warriors of thy history.
    The sisters of freedom, the songs of thy ancestors,
    shall be herd. The beautiful daughters that I
    have in trust. Let your words be lift.

    Daughters marching one by one,
    Sons that sings and dance the
    tribute of thy drums, heavens will open
    the dove's shall sing.
    The songs of Mama Africa,
    shall bring a new name.

    Thou seek the calling of the Universe.
    Thy treasures stolen upon the land.
    Thou blood is cast upon the land of thy treasures.
    Thy spirit has no will,
    Upon the darkness of the earth,
    Oh thou, have lean toward the sword.

    I raise my hands, toward the heavens,
    As I seek, the coming of our lord,
    The dirt is dry,
    The sun flees, from the direction, of my eyes,
    the rivers are cold, I scream release, the fire,
    The lamb has left the blood upon my door.

    I rise that life return,
    Oh thou, has fell among, the belly of the beast,
    Psychological defeat.
    Subsiding to savor, of the bleeding hand,
    Screams of unison,
    The blood that is layer upon my door.

    I the mother of the Universe, thou children have betrayed
    my sacred grounds, let not thy tribulations be the deportee
    Of thy seed. I sing the songs of my ancestors,

    Oh thou I cry, as I shield, from the demands,
    which haunt me within, the blood is within,
    my palms, I wear the scars on my back,

    Conformity, only by movements,
    the blood that reflects, upon my face,
    the lamb, oh the lamb, the blood that sits before my door.

    Copywriter 2002 Jacqueline Amos
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

    United States
    Mar 21, 2001
    Likes Received:
    BUSINESS owner
    yes ....this was a calling indeed
    very nice scribe