(to africans in diaspora)

africa here i come, africa

africa of the black soul

the soul of an ancient culture

the culture of your timid tribes.

its your voice i hear africa

your voice of the talking drums

your beaded drums and the royal trumpeter

the metal gong of your town crier

i have come to see your music dance

i have heard of your ageless minstrels

have i not heard of your swinging hips!

i have heard enough and have come to watch

would not you dance for me africa

africa here i come africa

would you not show me to your tribes

the timid tribes of your sweeted tongues

the varied tongues of your virtuous men

africa, black soul africa

tell me about your gods

your gods of the sky and of the mother earth

your gods of the hills and of the rivers abound

show me to your kings africa

your kings of the ancient dynasty

the ancient dynamy of rusted spear and shield

africa, here i come africa


heavenly guest

heralding thunderously

in its own wake

pelting on men

as well, the gods

gathering itself

drop by drop.

as rivulets you flow

passing on slopes abound


it's rhythm goes –

romancing all corners

cutting out its lonely paths

along our farmstead's.

near your collected pools

we stand

with tears of joy


we danced

we played

making mounds of wetted soil


little you, unt us

seasonally guest

you have grown –

at length,

in breath,

we are in you

you in us


My father,

out of your seeds

emerged i,

millions of us swarm across the eggling waters

looking for her, that harbors

and, i the chosen morphed into fluids

… the races of life began at conception

dear mother,

days stumbled into months

egglings, from your womb harbored me

and the fluids formed into being

enshrouded in you, body and soul;

eating and sucking all day long

… this, is the making of me


distanced we sat, barred from

spoken words

masked, our lives became one

volume of thoughts race

our troubled minds


morphed into forms

flow among us

… unspoken,

we had said volumes

either by mouth nor scribbles

of our dried fountains

we have rocked minds;

and shared unchained thoughts

… who can seal or hold in captive

a troubled mind


tensed we watched

as our fathers before us, has done

we watched as dawn streaks across the neighing sky

another day has come

with it, hope that lingers

we watched as the crops, whither

as the herds stifle by the river beds

we saw the cracks all around us

and, the sun

scorched harshly upon us

we watched as the skies refuse

to fall its tears and to succor our parching storm

the field has broken, in piece!


to welcome our weakening bones


i appreciate




the habitats called man

i worship




God, that created man

i'm disappointed




in the very nature of man

poems by Chime, Hilary Uchenna