A POEM ABOUT BARACK OBAMA
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A POEM ABOUT BARACK OBAMA
BARACK OBAMA
Out from the dark and stormy night
he came beautifully black faced,
arms stretched out to give,
feet planted to stay.
At the part of his lips,
at the lift of his tongue,
on the exhale of his breath
Inspired ears now hung.
A sadness, a silence
began to disappear
In the mist of every hush
lived massive courageous cheers.
Just as had been promised
On the death bed of slaves,
The tears on our face
Now nourishing their graves.
He who had been foolish enough
To still be dreaming of the mountain top,
Now peered down at us
From the crown of a mighty rock.
Behind him stood the dimming sun
Fore his light was life,
The black sky had been bright
Through this majestic night.
Hands reached out and let their fingers
Entangle with touch,
No longer victimized by the past
Our differences clutched.
Deeper than tree roots
Our metaphors stay mysterious
But together is the only way
we defeat the nefarious.
“This is your victory”
He greeted us with praise
While carrying the world on his back
He made us feel brave.
The struggle had been fought
By hands of all shade,
And it would take those same hands
To shape this new day.
It is not destiny just because
it was spoken before to day
It is not a miracle
just because the words were prayed
In spite of being beaten,
In spite of being broken,
In spite of every obstacle man has stood against….
He was not hopeless.
He was tougher, he was stronger
Smarter than before
He was now again,
He was once more.
He was not impossibility,
He was not by chance,
He was not invincible,
He was “yes we can.”
Out from the dark and stormy night
he came beautifully black faced,
arms stretched out to give,
feet planted to stay.
At the part of his lips,
at the lift of his tongue,
on the exhale of his breath
Inspired ears now hung.
A sadness, a silence
began to disappear
In the mist of every hush
lived massive courageous cheers.
Just as had been promised
On the death bed of slaves,
The tears on our face
Now nourishing their graves.
He who had been foolish enough
To still be dreaming of the mountain top,
Now peered down at us
From the crown of a mighty rock.
Behind him stood the dimming sun
Fore his light was life,
The black sky had been bright
Through this majestic night.
Hands reached out and let their fingers
Entangle with touch,
No longer victimized by the past
Our differences clutched.
Deeper than tree roots
Our metaphors stay mysterious
But together is the only way
we defeat the nefarious.
“This is your victory”
He greeted us with praise
While carrying the world on his back
He made us feel brave.
The struggle had been fought
By hands of all shade,
And it would take those same hands
To shape this new day.
It is not destiny just because
it was spoken before to day
It is not a miracle
just because the words were prayed
In spite of being beaten,
In spite of being broken,
In spite of every obstacle man has stood against….
He was not hopeless.
He was tougher, he was stronger
Smarter than before
He was now again,
He was once more.
He was not impossibility,
He was not by chance,
He was not invincible,
He was “yes we can.”
LLCOLLINS- Inhabitant
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Re: A POEM ABOUT BARACK OBAMA
A poem that comes off both comforting and inspiring.
Really, all men are equal, and I'm surprised some people nowadays still don't want to believe that. No matter our colour, we are all humans, and we all have the same wants and needs, and we all suffer the same things.
Although I am politically neutral, I did quite enjoy this poem. I liked the reference to Martin Luther King, Jr. Quite fitting.
"I have a dream," he said. We all have dreams.
We must give them light.
Really, all men are equal, and I'm surprised some people nowadays still don't want to believe that. No matter our colour, we are all humans, and we all have the same wants and needs, and we all suffer the same things.
Although I am politically neutral, I did quite enjoy this poem. I liked the reference to Martin Luther King, Jr. Quite fitting.
"I have a dream," he said. We all have dreams.
We must give them light.
Olias- Moderator
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Re: A POEM ABOUT BARACK OBAMA
I am/was a supporter of Barack, though this poem is very well written, well written enough it could sway many of those who sided against him in the polls and thus unite a lot of people (though not everyone) i do however have some thoughts which i thank you for in all honesty.
I believe people are raising him to high, the higher you go the harder you fall.
He is a resounding hope for many, but his term is going to be one of the most toughest to deal with considering his each and every move is going to be monitored and criticized by many, for his ethnic background, his stand on democracy, and i believe his youth.
His term here will be one of the most profound in our or possibly future generations. Yet even now people are cheapening his stance. They are selling plates with his face on them coins blankets. its nothing but a marketing scheme that seems to be taking away from his image and shoving fake plastic items in your face. i believe he is being made a mockery of before he has set foot in office officially.
I believe this momentous event could be handled better, without all this propaganda.
and thus i digress on the real situation here at hand and I'm sorry about going off on a tangit, your poem is in short breath taking. Though a few things could be switched around cause when you have
"Hands yadda yadda yadda
yadda yadda yadda hands" well it kind of clashes, you have a few things of that nature but nothing so bad that it takes away from your poem...Well done.
PEACE
Nikki
I believe people are raising him to high, the higher you go the harder you fall.
He is a resounding hope for many, but his term is going to be one of the most toughest to deal with considering his each and every move is going to be monitored and criticized by many, for his ethnic background, his stand on democracy, and i believe his youth.
His term here will be one of the most profound in our or possibly future generations. Yet even now people are cheapening his stance. They are selling plates with his face on them coins blankets. its nothing but a marketing scheme that seems to be taking away from his image and shoving fake plastic items in your face. i believe he is being made a mockery of before he has set foot in office officially.
I believe this momentous event could be handled better, without all this propaganda.
and thus i digress on the real situation here at hand and I'm sorry about going off on a tangit, your poem is in short breath taking. Though a few things could be switched around cause when you have
"Hands yadda yadda yadda
yadda yadda yadda hands" well it kind of clashes, you have a few things of that nature but nothing so bad that it takes away from your poem...Well done.
PEACE
Nikki
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