Classic Poems by Samuella Conteh, Matron of the International African Writers’ Association (AIWA)

Written by The Haymaker

Enjoy the best of poems woven by the expert hands of our week 11 guest on Women Of Arts, Samuella Conteh. These poems talks about different themes in the themoat excellent way.


The wax from the waning climate of goodwill
Blocks the tributaries of humanity from flourishing
A soul deprived of humanity is like a walking time bomb
Baying to wreck the world with impunity
Kindness is like a blazing torch that leaves a trail of light
In virgin plains and hearts to light a world in blight.

For every plague in one corner of the world
Plagued us all in the bubbles we called our world
Until pain is pain regardless of who is pained
Until a cry is a cry regardless of who cried
Until death is death regardless of who died
Humanity will lose the throne of prime being

Love without colour glues together fragments
Of spaces and cultures to make a single world
Until the love that brought us here is sustained
World peace will forever be restrained at our peril

Let’s get back to when humanity was clothed
In love and goodwill for all of God’s creation
It takes just one hand to spread hope
And others to pass it on like an Olympic torch
Wherever you are, be a hand to prime move
The move that will ensure world peace
And create a world that can contain all of humanity
Regardless …


Soulful scenes of aging memories
Roll across the screen of the mind
Still birthing a smile of indifference

Broken feathers of failed flights
Fly around on moving wings of time
Shifting shrugs on bent shoulders

Flashes strike on old shards of pain Stream along well-trodden paths
Retaken in the springs of thoughts

Murder not the shadows of the past
Images of past turmoil makes sweeter
The joys laden in the heart’s rebirth


A hand that ploughs thru’ dark clouds
To scatter sheens of gleaming stars
When the world has turned on its heels
Is stretched upon the strength of truth

An ear tuned to pluck strands of pain
Hidden in the undergrowth of silence
Sieving tears from a façade of mirth
Ranks higher on the strength of truth

A smile that runs the speed of light
Over varied climes or chimes of time
Baking love upon waves and spaces
Is emboldened by the strength of truth

An eye that rips thru’ iron curtains
Flung across borders of race or creed
To flip lids off inequity and bigotry
Shines brighter on the strength of truth


I know the place my hear left for
Leaving my body on a restless clime
I don’t belong here and little wonder
I know not much peace where I a

Not for me the blasting and blaring
Nor the blinding lights or hot tarmac
I don’t belong here and little wonder
I blend not well among the mighty

My heart dwells not in fell boughs, or
Caged flights atop naked mountains
My heart starved for leafy habitats
So left me stranded when I held back

My heart is pumping in some stream
Among those rocks in the hinterland
Where I once left my face imprinted
On the face of clear and cool waters

My heart missed the nightly sounds
Rang out by hippos in the River Kabba
The rustling leaves telling on reptiles
Nostalgia bit at my heart and it left

My heart missed the crier’s gong
The children calling the moon to play
Their bare feet dancing in harmony
To the rhythm of my country heart

My heart swooned from mighty heights
Spiraling headiness on mounted floors
Artificial breeze chilled in condensers
My poor heart headed for the open air

Let me go where the cocks call me up
At it’s time, the same time every dawn
Unlike their city brothers full of pranks
Calling at random from overfed beaks

I miss cold water from the legged pot
The wigs of unadulterated palm wine
Smell of rice husks dancing in the wind
Fragrant dust romanced by dewdrops

My heart longed for serene musings
Contaminated by pangs of civilization
Complicating its romance with nature
Let me go to the place my heart lives


A beautiful blend of differences
That breaks the boredom
Of a monotonous existence
Of all of God’s creation

Diversity, if harmonized in love
And acceptance of all humankind
Would pattern a great mosaic beauty

Play your harp
To my sensual rumba
And I’ll beat my African drum
And dance to your western steps

Your melody of love
Need not be interpreted
In my local parlance
For me to hum your lyrics

Transport me to your fairylands
Through your tales and fables read
In exchange of mine
told around evening fires

Let’s both chant songs of our heroes
You of mine, me of yours
In the beauty of harmony
In a unified diversity

About the author

The Haymaker

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