Hello Pretty Pets, welcome to the “Pretty Petty’s Poem of the Week” issue. I’m Amanda and my business partner, James, and our teammates, Anna, Abdul, Jasmine, Erin, Osinachi, Amber, Kofi, Kanu, Lana, and Tim; we are poets. This will show off our diversion of our poetry. Each week, a different poet will do this.
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This is by Osinachi, enjoy.
Africa my Africa
Your voice came like a faded dream
Like a call from an old dream
Like a distant rain in a neighborhood
Like a Nightingale crying in a nightshade under the night--rain
It came, bit by bit
Drop by drop
And suddenly break loose
Banging at my eardrums
Like heavy rain dancing
On my aluminum roof!
Like a call from an old dream
Like a distant rain in a neighborhood
Like a Nightingale crying in a nightshade under the night--rain
It came, bit by bit
Drop by drop
And suddenly break loose
Banging at my eardrums
Like heavy rain dancing
On my aluminum roof!
I jumped out of my bamboo bed
Bewildered as if bewitched
Like a benighted benign Bengali
That was bent to be bereaved
And gave her son a belladonna
You rattled me like a rattlesnake
Like the chirp of a thousand Bart
On top of that iroko tree at the center of our market square
And I scrammed 'beaut'
Seeing your beautiful face
Crying beauteously like a beautician
That lost a beauty contest!
Bewildered as if bewitched
Like a benighted benign Bengali
That was bent to be bereaved
And gave her son a belladonna
You rattled me like a rattlesnake
Like the chirp of a thousand Bart
On top of that iroko tree at the center of our market square
And I scrammed 'beaut'
Seeing your beautiful face
Crying beauteously like a beautician
That lost a beauty contest!
Africa my Africa
Why do you suddenly start to wail?
Who has lashed your back again?
Why are you in sackcloth?
Look at you, big like iroko
But weightless like loaf of bread
Tell me, are you a loaf of bread?
How do they mange to chain your
Feet? As big as you are?
Who has chained the sleeping giant?
I know, I know
Your ancient enemy--friend?
Look at you, your body dripping blood like water fountain
Are you still in battlefield?
Why do you suddenly start to wail?
Who has lashed your back again?
Why are you in sackcloth?
Look at you, big like iroko
But weightless like loaf of bread
Tell me, are you a loaf of bread?
How do they mange to chain your
Feet? As big as you are?
Who has chained the sleeping giant?
I know, I know
Your ancient enemy--friend?
Look at you, your body dripping blood like water fountain
Are you still in battlefield?
O restless Africa!
Your Brothers have gone to the moon,
Yes, those of your Brothers...
That dumped you in the battlefield
They have found life in Mars!
And you are still fighting
Have you not heard?
That the earth is burning?
Yes, those of your Brothers have set it on fire and now want to leave you and run away!
You will wake up one morning to find them gone!
You're still in battlefield
Slaughtering your children
Oh, Africa my Africa!
Your Brothers have gone to the moon,
Yes, those of your Brothers...
That dumped you in the battlefield
They have found life in Mars!
And you are still fighting
Have you not heard?
That the earth is burning?
Yes, those of your Brothers have set it on fire and now want to leave you and run away!
You will wake up one morning to find them gone!
You're still in battlefield
Slaughtering your children
Oh, Africa my Africa!
Is that why you're crying?
That your Brothers are leaving?
Maybe you have remembered your son's...
That was drown in the Caribbean Sea?
Maybe you remembered your daughters, that was raped to death
In those slave ship?
That your Brothers are leaving?
Maybe you have remembered your son's...
That was drown in the Caribbean Sea?
Maybe you remembered your daughters, that was raped to death
In those slave ship?
Why are you now screaming blue before me as if you don't know that they have bleed you dry?
Good afternoon at midnight
Good morning in the evening
Good night at midday
Africa my Africa...
Good afternoon at midnight
Good morning in the evening
Good night at midday
Africa my Africa...
Osinachi Emeghara
More Than Poetry: We take “Pretty Petty Poetry” very, very seriously. Some people think poetry is very “old fashioned”, boring, and not that interesting. We can understand. To us, poetry is the true heart of a person. Amanda describes it as: lyrics without any music.
Pretty Pets: We want your feedback on “Pretty Petty Poetry”. We want to know on how we can improve on this business. We’re very open on your comments.