Spotlighting Pan-African Poetry

Biography

Thoughts

Enlarge poem

Thoughts of a continent
Stricken by poverty and discontentment
Beaten by the fangs of disease, hate, malice and evil

Thoughts of a country
Bound by a land forgotten
Binded by a people
A people stuck on getting to the top no matter the heads they step on

Thoughts of a government
Weaved on corruption and of back house meetings that fill up the pockets of a minor people, a fraction of the more building anger and dissatisfaction
Leading to distractions that attract violence, a motion leading to destruction

Thoughts of a people
Heaved with burdens
Cleaved on a pile of debt, hunger and poverty
All bundled up with uncertainty

Thoughts of Grandma
As she seats around her three stone fireplace
Smoke all in her face watching all that is going on around her
Smiling at the irony of her long life behind and beyond her
Praying, hoping, instilling and believing in a better tomorrow
A fairer more life
Praying that the grandbaby whom she is holding
Will one day be a man, with a plan that does not involve a wayward lifestyle but a forward strive

Thoughts of grandma
As she walks home from her farm
Singing a soft tender song, reminiscing of her long day at the farm
Smiling at the beautiful sunset
Not worrying about the basket on her back or the lengthy miles she has to traverse till she gets home

Thoughts of grandma
As peaceful as she can be
Even with a life, as miserable as it has been but as honorable as she sees it
Humble, gentle, as she mumbles but with no grumble not willing to fumble

Thoughts of a people
Yearning to be rejuvenated
Thirsting to be re-exhilarated
Dying to be resuscitated
Craving to be revitalized
Willing to be regenerated
Desiring to be re-invigorated
Pining to be restituted
Vibrating to be pushed
Forwarding the rush
To an enlightening nudged by commanding pillars
Rugged on the outside but formidable within
An indomitable spirit
An indestructible wit
An able grit, proving it is woven on a marble lining the unable
The envisioning of a prospering and unbreaking guilt housing the tenaciously minded
Thoughts of a people believing, achieving, and arising to the challenge of massive arrange, the canceling of rage, mentoring of the aging, promoting of cultures, advancing of sculptures, exiling of vultures, waving at the future

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

Make this your Legacy,
And you will find that the human heart beats beauty.

Jason Nkwain

Featured Poem:

Have You Ever Seen An African Dance

Enlarge poem

They say we dance like rivers, hands flowing North like Nile
Like deserts do not surround us.
They say we move too dynamic to be in disarray
Too potent to be powerless,
Too spirited to be mummies,
Too vibrant to be starving,
That seasons do not pass when drought tucks us into bed at night and famine like roosters crows emptiness into our mornings
They ask
How could dried up xylophones ring out such rich symphonies
And why is there so much life in that barren planet of a person

How does a man answer such questions, how does he breath truth into the ignorant, so I answer with this simple question

Have you ever seen an African dance?
Have you ever felt the music possess limb to limb
Like there are Angels having a feast in body
Spiritual movements paralyzing each vertebra from remote to rural

Have you ever seen an African dance?
Have you ever sat in awe and watched the rhythm take flight in mind like rockets
Full orchestra playing and matching in sync
Forgetting that this man knows not piano
Knows not of viola’s complementing violins
Cello’s and double basses
Nor does he know of woodwinds and brass
Or music sheets, all he knows is rhythm,
How he composes symphonies with each movement
That raw, untainted and unmastered rhythm.
That causes his feet to pound firm on the ground
Crusty and cracked enough to build trenches yet he stomps
Forgetting that the soil can taste his blood
Does it taste like fear, like he knows that his barren soil will not produce for his family?
Does it taste like negligence, like he willfully ignores his plight like incompetence is his mantra?
Does it taste like cowardice, like he cringes at the site of blood, of tears, and of death?
Does it taste like death, does it taste like a plague, does it taste like a curse
Does it taste plain and empty, like there’s a zombie residing in his inner residence?

Have you ever seen an African Woman dance?
Have you ever watched her hips steal the spotlight gyrating in fervent excitement with each drumbeat?
Smile synonymous to sun like she did not cry rivers last night
Like the man who was meant for protection did not become a predator and her prey
Like his flesh did not become Prime, and hers pillage for his desires
Watch her hips gyrate in pleasure like they did not gyrate in pain last night
Like the beautiful earth around her waist did not crack, and quake like Armageddon
Like she did not pay for her beauty with mundane beatings.
Have you ever looked into the eyes of death and told her that there is something lively about her
Watch her hips gyrate in joy like they did not quiver at the sight of her son six feet under
Watch her hips gyrate with so much freedom like she did not know slavery too well

Have you ever seen an African King cry?
Watch his tears dance down his cheeks in morbid helplessness
Galloping through the bed farm wrinkles on his face
As he watches his people dance on empty stomachs
He looks and notices that
See through Vessels never looked so beautiful
The way the sun finds home in melanin
Skin never hugged bones with such force
Vicious plagues never plagued a place with such potency
Would you want to know his thoughts?
Would you want to know the silence that dances inside
Would you want to know the nervous inferiority that causes his head and feet to nod and tap?
Would you want to know that his throne carries no power?
Because a seat is not a seat when faith is lacking
Would you want to know that he is king only by title because circumstance has stripped him to peasantry?

Have you ever seen and African dance
Have you ever looked on in tears, heart skipping with smile and said, “this is beautiful”
That this grace is worth glancing at twice
When rain meets a sunny day
How his outro fades like the sun behind the mountains at dusk
How his movements are tears filled praises
Limbs telling folktales worthy of the king’s ears
To say that this dance brings our souls before God
How our knees kiss the floor in humility and our hands marry the sky in adoration,
and how our hearts pour out its supplication
That in this state of devotion, we find faith, we find flaw, yet a blazing firefly still buzzes within
That we move like there’s a solar flare skipping inside
That we dance because it frees the soul from this shackled flesh
We dance like its our last for our legacies are more genuine when painted on tainted canvas for tomorrow may crumple this page with dementia causing us to forget the heavenly joy that was penned here tonight
To rest in our sleep and wake up anew moving like pain did not sleep here tonight
So the next time you see and AFRICAN dance, pause, take a moment, look closely, and maybe just maybe you might find the joy hiding in the crevices of our plight.

jason nkwain badilisha

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (1)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (0)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Comments

  1. Yes, bro, I can feel the energy in your veins because I have seen and danced many an African dance and inhaled the dust that rose as our feet kneaded our present into the cradle of our past while our fingers swiped away the sweat on our foreheads so we could have a glimpse of the future…..
    Let the percussion play on and the flourish gain crescendo….

    Ferdinand Mbecha

Your email address will not be published.

Biography

Jason Nkwain was born in Cameroon, and moved to the USA at the age of thirteen. He has been publicly speaking since the age of seven when he started reciting poems and rhymes for kindergarten events.

Jason became really interested in poetry after moving to the US, and as time went by, he slowly developed a love for performance poetry or as most people call it, spoken word poetry. In 2012, alongside some of his close Cameroonian friends, he co-founded LEGACY ENTERTAINMENT PRODUCTIONS, which is a collective of African artist whose main focus is to elevate and expose the beauty and the brilliance of the African Art.

Jason Nkwain’s poems focus on the continent of Africa and especially its people. Looking at the African people through the eyes of an anthropologist, Jason seeks to expose the beauty in Africa’s story. Jason seeks to dispel most myths and to shatter the false His-Stories, creating room for the truth in Our-Stories.

Some of his well-known poems are Thoughts, and Have You Ever Seen An African Dance.

Jason Nkwain is currently a senior at The University of Maryland College Park double majoring in Geographical Information Systems and English. He hopes to become an English professor some day focusing on African studies.

Website: https://www.facebook.com/Legacy237

Jason Nkwain

jason nkwain badilisha
jason nkwain badilisha

Biography

Jason Nkwain was born in Cameroon, and moved to the USA at the age of thirteen. He has been publicly speaking since the age of seven when he started reciting poems and rhymes for kindergarten events.

Jason became really interested in poetry after moving to the US, and as time went by, he slowly developed a love for performance poetry or as most people call it, spoken word poetry. In 2012, alongside some of his close Cameroonian friends, he co-founded LEGACY ENTERTAINMENT PRODUCTIONS, which is a collective of African artist whose main focus is to elevate and expose the beauty and the brilliance of the African Art.

Jason Nkwain’s poems focus on the continent of Africa and especially its people. Looking at the African people through the eyes of an anthropologist, Jason seeks to expose the beauty in Africa’s story. Jason seeks to dispel most myths and to shatter the false His-Stories, creating room for the truth in Our-Stories.

Some of his well-known poems are Thoughts, and Have You Ever Seen An African Dance.

Jason Nkwain is currently a senior at The University of Maryland College Park double majoring in Geographical Information Systems and English. He hopes to become an English professor some day focusing on African studies.

Website: https://www.facebook.com/Legacy237

Thoughts

Enlarge poem

Thoughts of a continent
Stricken by poverty and discontentment
Beaten by the fangs of disease, hate, malice and evil

Thoughts of a country
Bound by a land forgotten
Binded by a people
A people stuck on getting to the top no matter the heads they step on

Thoughts of a government
Weaved on corruption and of back house meetings that fill up the pockets of a minor people, a fraction of the more building anger and dissatisfaction
Leading to distractions that attract violence, a motion leading to destruction

Thoughts of a people
Heaved with burdens
Cleaved on a pile of debt, hunger and poverty
All bundled up with uncertainty

Thoughts of Grandma
As she seats around her three stone fireplace
Smoke all in her face watching all that is going on around her
Smiling at the irony of her long life behind and beyond her
Praying, hoping, instilling and believing in a better tomorrow
A fairer more life
Praying that the grandbaby whom she is holding
Will one day be a man, with a plan that does not involve a wayward lifestyle but a forward strive

Thoughts of grandma
As she walks home from her farm
Singing a soft tender song, reminiscing of her long day at the farm
Smiling at the beautiful sunset
Not worrying about the basket on her back or the lengthy miles she has to traverse till she gets home

Thoughts of grandma
As peaceful as she can be
Even with a life, as miserable as it has been but as honorable as she sees it
Humble, gentle, as she mumbles but with no grumble not willing to fumble

Thoughts of a people
Yearning to be rejuvenated
Thirsting to be re-exhilarated
Dying to be resuscitated
Craving to be revitalized
Willing to be regenerated
Desiring to be re-invigorated
Pining to be restituted
Vibrating to be pushed
Forwarding the rush
To an enlightening nudged by commanding pillars
Rugged on the outside but formidable within
An indomitable spirit
An indestructible wit
An able grit, proving it is woven on a marble lining the unable
The envisioning of a prospering and unbreaking guilt housing the tenaciously minded
Thoughts of a people believing, achieving, and arising to the challenge of massive arrange, the canceling of rage, mentoring of the aging, promoting of cultures, advancing of sculptures, exiling of vultures, waving at the future

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

Make this your Legacy,
And you will find that the human heart beats beauty.

Featured Poem:

Have You Ever Seen An African Dance

Enlarge poem

They say we dance like rivers, hands flowing North like Nile
Like deserts do not surround us.
They say we move too dynamic to be in disarray
Too potent to be powerless,
Too spirited to be mummies,
Too vibrant to be starving,
That seasons do not pass when drought tucks us into bed at night and famine like roosters crows emptiness into our mornings
They ask
How could dried up xylophones ring out such rich symphonies
And why is there so much life in that barren planet of a person

How does a man answer such questions, how does he breath truth into the ignorant, so I answer with this simple question

Have you ever seen an African dance?
Have you ever felt the music possess limb to limb
Like there are Angels having a feast in body
Spiritual movements paralyzing each vertebra from remote to rural

Have you ever seen an African dance?
Have you ever sat in awe and watched the rhythm take flight in mind like rockets
Full orchestra playing and matching in sync
Forgetting that this man knows not piano
Knows not of viola’s complementing violins
Cello’s and double basses
Nor does he know of woodwinds and brass
Or music sheets, all he knows is rhythm,
How he composes symphonies with each movement
That raw, untainted and unmastered rhythm.
That causes his feet to pound firm on the ground
Crusty and cracked enough to build trenches yet he stomps
Forgetting that the soil can taste his blood
Does it taste like fear, like he knows that his barren soil will not produce for his family?
Does it taste like negligence, like he willfully ignores his plight like incompetence is his mantra?
Does it taste like cowardice, like he cringes at the site of blood, of tears, and of death?
Does it taste like death, does it taste like a plague, does it taste like a curse
Does it taste plain and empty, like there’s a zombie residing in his inner residence?

Have you ever seen an African Woman dance?
Have you ever watched her hips steal the spotlight gyrating in fervent excitement with each drumbeat?
Smile synonymous to sun like she did not cry rivers last night
Like the man who was meant for protection did not become a predator and her prey
Like his flesh did not become Prime, and hers pillage for his desires
Watch her hips gyrate in pleasure like they did not gyrate in pain last night
Like the beautiful earth around her waist did not crack, and quake like Armageddon
Like she did not pay for her beauty with mundane beatings.
Have you ever looked into the eyes of death and told her that there is something lively about her
Watch her hips gyrate in joy like they did not quiver at the sight of her son six feet under
Watch her hips gyrate with so much freedom like she did not know slavery too well

Have you ever seen an African King cry?
Watch his tears dance down his cheeks in morbid helplessness
Galloping through the bed farm wrinkles on his face
As he watches his people dance on empty stomachs
He looks and notices that
See through Vessels never looked so beautiful
The way the sun finds home in melanin
Skin never hugged bones with such force
Vicious plagues never plagued a place with such potency
Would you want to know his thoughts?
Would you want to know the silence that dances inside
Would you want to know the nervous inferiority that causes his head and feet to nod and tap?
Would you want to know that his throne carries no power?
Because a seat is not a seat when faith is lacking
Would you want to know that he is king only by title because circumstance has stripped him to peasantry?

Have you ever seen and African dance
Have you ever looked on in tears, heart skipping with smile and said, “this is beautiful”
That this grace is worth glancing at twice
When rain meets a sunny day
How his outro fades like the sun behind the mountains at dusk
How his movements are tears filled praises
Limbs telling folktales worthy of the king’s ears
To say that this dance brings our souls before God
How our knees kiss the floor in humility and our hands marry the sky in adoration,
and how our hearts pour out its supplication
That in this state of devotion, we find faith, we find flaw, yet a blazing firefly still buzzes within
That we move like there’s a solar flare skipping inside
That we dance because it frees the soul from this shackled flesh
We dance like its our last for our legacies are more genuine when painted on tainted canvas for tomorrow may crumple this page with dementia causing us to forget the heavenly joy that was penned here tonight
To rest in our sleep and wake up anew moving like pain did not sleep here tonight
So the next time you see and AFRICAN dance, pause, take a moment, look closely, and maybe just maybe you might find the joy hiding in the crevices of our plight.

How does this featured poem make you feel?

  • Amazement (0)
  • Pride (0)
  • Optimism (0)
  • Anger (0)
  • Delight (1)
  • Inspiration (1)
  • Reflection (1)
  • Captivation (0)
  • Peace (0)
  • Amusement (0)
  • Sorrow (0)
  • Vigour (0)
  • Hope (0)
  • Sadness (0)
  • Fear (0)
  • Jubilation (0)

Thoughts

Enlarge poem

Thoughts of a continent
Stricken by poverty and discontentment
Beaten by the fangs of disease, hate, malice and evil

Thoughts of a country
Bound by a land forgotten
Binded by a people
A people stuck on getting to the top no matter the heads they step on

Thoughts of a government
Weaved on corruption and of back house meetings that fill up the pockets of a minor people, a fraction of the more building anger and dissatisfaction
Leading to distractions that attract violence, a motion leading to destruction

Thoughts of a people
Heaved with burdens
Cleaved on a pile of debt, hunger and poverty
All bundled up with uncertainty

Thoughts of Grandma
As she seats around her three stone fireplace
Smoke all in her face watching all that is going on around her
Smiling at the irony of her long life behind and beyond her
Praying, hoping, instilling and believing in a better tomorrow
A fairer more life
Praying that the grandbaby whom she is holding
Will one day be a man, with a plan that does not involve a wayward lifestyle but a forward strive

Thoughts of grandma
As she walks home from her farm
Singing a soft tender song, reminiscing of her long day at the farm
Smiling at the beautiful sunset
Not worrying about the basket on her back or the lengthy miles she has to traverse till she gets home

Thoughts of grandma
As peaceful as she can be
Even with a life, as miserable as it has been but as honorable as she sees it
Humble, gentle, as she mumbles but with no grumble not willing to fumble

Thoughts of a people
Yearning to be rejuvenated
Thirsting to be re-exhilarated
Dying to be resuscitated
Craving to be revitalized
Willing to be regenerated
Desiring to be re-invigorated
Pining to be restituted
Vibrating to be pushed
Forwarding the rush
To an enlightening nudged by commanding pillars
Rugged on the outside but formidable within
An indomitable spirit
An indestructible wit
An able grit, proving it is woven on a marble lining the unable
The envisioning of a prospering and unbreaking guilt housing the tenaciously minded
Thoughts of a people believing, achieving, and arising to the challenge of massive arrange, the canceling of rage, mentoring of the aging, promoting of cultures, advancing of sculptures, exiling of vultures, waving at the future

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

From thoughts to words,
From words to actions,
From actions to an evasion into a mission, which only through perception can become a manifestation of true education

Make this your Legacy,
And you will find that the human heart beats beauty.

Comments

  1. Yes, bro, I can feel the energy in your veins because I have seen and danced many an African dance and inhaled the dust that rose as our feet kneaded our present into the cradle of our past while our fingers swiped away the sweat on our foreheads so we could have a glimpse of the future…..
    Let the percussion play on and the flourish gain crescendo….

    Ferdinand Mbecha

Your email address will not be published.