Love Familiar

There are ripples in the moonlit pond
as we walk in this spring night
beauty abundance
love in many moons
love in many crescents

There are ripples in the moonlit pond
a duck swims to the shore
beautiful alluring
love in the nature
love in the springtide

There are ripples in the moonlit pond
as the scent of the dogwood lingers
soft and serene are
lovers in mood
lovers in muse

There are ripples in this
moonlight, fickle pond
singing to us in a watery
hum;

We walk on the twilight
paved pathway with
casual phrases and
courteous questions meant to kill
the silence;

I brush your body in an
un- excused manner
and your eyes check mine,
they say yes;

On the bench we sit
closer as we listen to
ripples from this
moonlit pond

We are love familiar.

Akili Amina on Facebook

Black History Poems

I Stand

I stand
On the backs
Of my ancestors
In slavery

I stand
On the shoulders
Of black soldiers
Who fought the
Civil war, bravely

I stand
On the backs
Of those sprayed
By water hoses,
So gravely

I rise
Out of the dust
Of the cotton pickers
Whose hands were torn
and prickly

I ascend
From ascendants
Who fight the
Wars daily

I lift
My eyes to see
The mountain
Spoken of by
Him, so kingly
I stand
And yes I stand
Even on my family
Who support me

I stand
And yes I stand
Hand in hand
With those in
My community

I stand
And yes I stand
Because of a
God who helps
Me,

and yes, I stand


We Are The Glorious

We are the Glorious
In the eyes of
God who made us

We are the illustrious
Ones who have
Dedicated many
Inventions, vainglorious

It was a black hand
That made refrigeration
For trucks
The egg beater,
The pencil sharperner,
The elevator,
The traffic signal
And performed the
First open heart
Surgery for us

We are the glorious

We are the glorious

We are the glorious
Who have helped in
This society in many
Ways be proud of us
Because we are the glorious


These are the poems I wrote for a children's program on Black History.

Akili Amina on Facebook

The Rainseeker

The dawn drenched in
dryness, enveloping heat
all around her, everywhere

The sunrise surely not
softly scorching her soul
while sax notes sate the air

She seeks the skies sweat
to her mental desert that
must be the devil's lair

Thirsty, her spirit for a
drip from the fountain of
humanity, is her daily prayer

Lone, in a home of sadness
where kindness has left
the cabinets bereft and bare

Only the music caresses
her lovely and the notes, they bless.
Pour her love. Who dares?

She is the rainseeker,
in search of the skies sweat

She is the rainseeker,
who met her cumulus climax, yet

When the clouds brought
her passion, so unsatiable

She is the rainseeker,
showered by storms, so unstable

She, the rainseeker,
who dances to jazz music, in a blare

Her dawn drenched in
dearest, enveloping cool
all around her, everywhere

Akili Amina on Facebook

Pretty Toes

I think to myself
why wont he look
at me?

I say to no one
Why does he stare?

Why with his head down
when we are in the midst
of a discussion and in
the midst of something
I need to express

I have this question
while I am telling him how it all
made me feel; how it all
is the point of my aggravation

This situation is the
subject of my duress
and what a true mess

because he seems to
pay my words no mind
instead i am talking
and he is looking down

Boggles and brain confused
my statements are misused
and they are left hanging
in the conversational wind

I am upset and this must
end, so I scream, "Why at
my feet you are looking
and this I must know!"

He raised his head and
gently said, "Its because
you got pretty toes."

Akili Amina on Facebook