African Man – A tribute to Maya Angelou (2015) (My Mr. Africa Poem)
I sometimes seek inspiration, wondering where it lies.
It’s neither here, nor there.
But behind my own eyes.
But when I start to tell them, they think i’m telling lies.
I say, It’s in the width of my shoulders, the strength of my grip the length of my stride, and the size of my lips.
I’m a man, genetically. African man, that’s me.
I walk into a room, just as cool as you please.
And to women, I usually stand tall, but when approached, I usually freeze.
And yet, they still swarm around me, a hive of honey bees.
I say, it’s in the depth of my gaze, and the home in my heart, the shade of my skin that separates me apart.
I’m a man, Poetically, African man. That’s me.
People sometimes wonder, what they see in me.
They try so much, But they can’t touch, the inner roots of my tree.
But when I try to show them, they say they still can’t see.
That’s when I say, It’s in the foundations of my feet, the crescent moon in my smile.
The genuine heart that beats, the pride I take in my style.
I’m a man, Mahogany, African man, That is me.
Now you understand, why i stand so proud,
I won’t rap or dance on stage, or talk real loud.
But when you see me passing, you will know why I stand out from the crowd.
Remember, it’s in the seeds in which I plant, in the tree’s I won’t see grow,
though i am content with this Because I know, my nephew and niece, my future sons and/or daughters will reap what I’ve sewn.
I am an African man, trying to be free, a free man. Is what I’ll soon be.