Young Afrikans Comments

The boiling anguish of black youths from Africa and their injured and oppressed egos, for a long time, expressed in an impressive way. Well deserved modern poem of the day.

they await, across the Changes and the spiraling dead, our Black revival, our Black vinegar, our hands, // beautiful poetic expression on the encouragement of young spirit

A beautiful piece, thanks for sharing.

Such a surreal, innovative poem about oppression and the need for social justice. It brilliantly, and seemingly effortlessly, weaves numerous dialects into its structure

THREE: As I have read her poem and these lines time and again, WOW! How energetic she was to relive the true occurrences of reality in her poems. Her words as written above: .....knowing where whips and screams are, knowing where deaths are, where the kind kills are....these are truly powerful words. Indeed youth must have wise and strong direction. CONGRATULATIONS to her family in the USA for being chosen as Modern PoemOTD

TWO: for the freedom of Black Souh Africa. Some foreign words in the poem that I cannot transpose in mind, but I do understand the shouts clearly, perhaps languages/dialects from South Africa self. She was truly happy for South Africa with the first black president. A great pity is, that she had not known at all that an Afro American had won the elections and became the first black president of the USA, since she died in 2000.

ONE: Almost all her poems are laden with black themes as the subject. So she knew that Mandela became the first president and I have the idea that she was able to see these all herself and experienced that. Her poems are still strong metaphors, not really straight to the enemy, but a powerful token of a conscious black woman

Wow! Such firey words. Energy of youth needs compassionate, protective hands and wise and strong direction. Wonderful poem.

Powerful commentary on why the fury never ends despite changing climes.

it out of joint! ! Thanks for sharing.

greatly humane writing for native // unfit hand and blood going to be dexterous, spiraling deads are crossing the Styix for no vinegar or bread, for no bullet or rival oppressed just for human life ..................

Such a great write by Gwendolyn Brooks....