A poem about the wonders of Africa by David Tombale: Homecoming

Homecoming is about celebrating the beauty of Africa.

Homecoming

My heart swells with a love for

Africa, the thunder of drums

beneath the green canvas of tents,

the roar of lions across the rivers and

marshes, the swell of oceans that kiss

the hulls of oil ships crossing the

Horn of Africa, the rains across

the mountains that slap against

the skin, bracing and alive,

the jazz clubs, the night spots,

Africa why are we alive if not for your

music? Your Mandelas, your cruise ships,

your safaris,

the dreams of little black boys and

little black girls in their school clothes

speaking and rapping in Swahili and Zulu,

Afrikaans and Tswana.

Africa I am the last ship crossing the canal

yearning to run against the sands of foreign shores

but I will never forget you, your sweet morula,

the language of my fathers and mothers barefooted

and straining, tilling the hard soil for watermelons

and wheat.

Africa I see you on the backs of postcards

and upon the silver screen,

Africa I see you as my plane lands on

the tarmac in Oliver Tumbo or on

the runways of Sir Seretse Khama and

all these songs say,

“Welcome back.”

A contemplative poem about Africa by David Tombale: Pursuit

This is a contemplative poem about what Africa means to me and what I might possibly mean to it.

Pursuit

The whispered words of a mother

to her crying child have somehow

caught my ear,

have brought me sounds of love and

joy amidst the worried clamor of my peers,

oh say I speak of voter booths,

of blood soaked tears, of Africa?

Say I speak of sun dried fields,

of absent rains, of the shadow of the day,

I who’ve spent my days in misery,

in pursuit of Africa?

A poem about politics in Africa by David Tombale: Letter to Nigeria

This poem was written for a contest that asked for a piece about Nigeria. Instead I used it as a springboard to express my impressions of the current dynamic between developed countries and the growing continent of Africa. In a word it is about how neocolonialism is perceived by those under its heel.
Letter to Nigeria

Nigeria they whisper sad songs of what might
Never be but they never sing, sad songs in
Quiet rooms because there are guns oustide
This house, they politick like rockstars, seeking
Fame amist the rubble, shaking money trees,
Shaking money trees, dear Nigeria they speak
Of you in board rooms and drink wine made
From poppy fields while your people weep.

Tell me of your people, strong as ivory, as
Large as oaks, they love the smell of you, the
Sights, the sounds, but the light skinned ones
Tell light skinned stories about dollars and
Deutschmarks, of barrels of liquid gold they
Buy for pennies while your buildings burn
And age, they speak too much of profits
While the television sells visions of prosperity
That never reached your shores, we cry to
Nigeria but all your hear are gunshots and
Politicking, always politicking as the cameras
Snap the aftermath with your buildings still
Burning down.