Toris Okotie (The African Poet) NY

My African Child
So young in heart 
He cried for milk 
So poor and helpless 
Mama weeps in pain 

His eyes so red 
A week he cried 
A month ago, 
To the world he came 

Mama so young 
Papa has run 
Under the bridge 
They lay their heads 

In storm and rain 
They search for food 
Through man and sex 
Mama fed him well 

The days went by 
Mama health decreased 
Only five months old 
Mama said goodbye 

In rain and cold 
He cried so loud 
In sun and heat 
He wept and wept 

Three days gone by 
Since mama left 
And now he sleeps 
To meet with mama

ACHOLI LAND!
Okema Leonard, Uganda

Acholiland oh acholiland,
The once happy mother of proud warriors,
To you we wail,
For redemption from the fangs of terror,
The terror that bleeds us white,
The terror that siphons your blood 
that runs in our veins,

Lambs without a shepherd we remain,
Driven away from you into the darkness,
Mama we yearn for an end to our misgivings,
Oh! Acholiland,

Do you hear us when we call out to you?
When our cries run our voices frail,
When wantons hunt us, your children down,
The harmony you taught us is no more,
Your children have learnt the little art of 
unleashing terror,

Unfortunately on your very siblings,
Pain is all we feel and grim is what we see,
Blood is what we pay for being your children,
Oh! Mother, spread your wings and redeem 
us, to rise and shine again.

AFRICAN POEMS WITH AFRICAN 
FOLKLORE INTRODUCTION 

Introduction to 'New Moon'
Before western civilization and the Roman calendar, Africans relied on the moon and market days as their guide to calculate their days, ages, and duration of time. The moon usually started in a crescent and went to full moon in what was considered the traditional month. So it was that in addition to using the moon for calculation purposes, whenever an individual looked up at the sky and saw a fresh crescent for the first time, he... More>>>
- Poems Of Life- 2nd Edition

NEW MOON
I looked up the sky, and there she stood,
A new phase of the ever smiling moon,
With a gorgeous charm she gladly glowed
Wearing her crescent in a concave curve,
Reminding all again of her newness come, 
And that life has come to another curve.

I reviewed my wishes and counted my blessings,
And then I resolved as I prayed by wishes made,

To be guided again like the curving moon, 
So when the convex meets the concave curve, 
To complete the cycle for another full moon,
I would have yet on my hand to count again,
A new list of blessings and wishes came, 
With the crescent of another smiling moon.

-One of the new poems only available in the 
2nd Edition of POEMS OF LIFE Comes with African folklore introduction and story behind the poem

Introduction to 'Many Wives'
The Africans, who practiced polygyny, did that for numerous reasons. The way of making a living in the olden days was a dominant factor in many areas. Early Africans.......>>>more,

MANY WIVES OF OUR FATHER
When time came to till the turf,
And fervently farm the rich farmlands,
My father's house had many hands,
To till the turf and farm the farmlands,
And after earth like the motherland,
Had grown the crops put in her womb,
And harvest time came........>>>more

One of the new poems only available in the 
2nd Edition of POEMS OF LIFE Comes with African folklore introduction and story behind the poem
CLICK HERE FOR BOOK REVIEW 

MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTER

I watched you roll
Roll from one side of the bed
To the other, and still
The clock chimes once.

I watch you sit and hum
Hum unintelligible tones
As mountains of tobacco
Disappear into your nostrils.

I watch your eyes
Fill with jerking tears
And your ears positioned
Intermittently to earth's pillars
Trying to place distant voices.

I try to cage my curiosity
But your crawling hands tap my chest
Papa, must I play this midnight encounter
To see the god's piercing eyes
And partake in this ancestral dialogue.

Toris Okotie (The African Poet) NY

Africa my Africa

Africa my Africa 
Africa my motherland 
Mother or Fatherland 
Childless you went almost 
But he that intervened 
The God of all nations 

Africa my Africa 
Mother of nations great 
Nigeria in the west 
Ethiopia in the east remains 
With labor pangs 
You brought them forth 

Africa my Africa 
Father of Egypt 
To the north, be so planted 
And Zimbabwe, the south remains 
And for Africa that mothered them all 

Africa my Africa 
Your discovery had brought you pains 
Children and grandchildren 
To the great sea you lost 
Continents with them were fed 

Africa my Africa 
In Vain labor no more 
Loose a child, but to no one 
Your great nations do protect 
For he shall intervene 
When you cry for help. 

SONG OF ADMONITION
By Emeka Azuine, London, England

Africa:
My ancestors taught you
You refused the counsel of the wise
What new knowledge will I teach you
As I do not breed Solomon's blood?

Africa:
Learn this song I sing
Never let it slip like rain and moon
Look and see your children cry
As burdens of hunger suck them dry.

Africa:
Hear and see them writhe
In agonies of disharmony they fry
As wars rip their skulls
So in grief and weary do my heart bleed.

Africa:
Thus will my ancestors and I bleed
Till you rid your camps of manless men
Whose spirits paddle our lives
In the seas of death where they live. 

ALWAYS THERE 

I am like Orji, the iroko tree
I have seen winds and waves
I have stood the storms and thunder,
Yet, at my feet lies Onu-iyi-ama
The little lovely lake of spring,
Where sits a swimming pool for kids.
Everyday, I see kids come and go,
Happy that they can swim and play.

I am like Duru-ejowe's rock, yes!
I am like the rock of Gibraltar
I have seen the harshest weathers
And the wildest beasts of the jungle,
Yet, at my feet flows the cleanest water,
And everyday, many in need do come,
To Stoop and fetch my gifts of spring
Happy that enough does flow for all.

I am like Ala, the earth, yes!
I am the ground on which you stand.
I carry all that is placed on me,
Yet, I bother no one to carry me.
You may try to run the best you can,
A mile or two or a nation far,
I am, and will be there under your feet.
Happy despite your march and pounds.

I am like Ugbua, the moment now.
I have seen the past meet the future,
I have seen ages come and go, and 
Generations of people born and die.
In me, on me, events take their place.
Yes! I am what time is to change,
I am ageless as well as timeless,
And surely too, I am always there.

From the Book - Poems of Life
More Poems by Oliver Mbamara

BACK TO TOP