from google




The Shame of All Man …






There is a shame that must be felt, by all Man the whole world around,


a collective, gnawing, nauseating shame,


for Man’s actions over the millennia,


Man must face the unsavoury truths and share the repellent blame.




There is a complicity of silence, a screaming silence, the mute hushed cowardice,


of billions of tongues sewn shut,


a shrieking deafness, of Man refusing to hear,


the disgust of the predatory stares, the abhorrent cat-calls, the sick eyes that linger and leer.




There is a common affliction, an accepted conceit, the obscene display of Male Power,


the barbed words lashing out, the sewage slipping and dripping,


the fists, the palms, the kicks, the slaps, the “you are nothing without me” drivel,


all the while expecting the women to stay silent, to patch their bruised faces, and in corners to curl up and shrivel.




We are in the 21st century, with human beings walking the moon, of hybrid cars, of vulgar jewellery of diamonds and gold,


of bazaars where women are bought and sold,


of places in technologically advanced cities that glitter at night,


where young girls are shredded, their innocence torn out, all within plain sight.




There is the new Man, who barters and buys women on e-commerce stores on the world wide web,


the new slavery with airplanes the new slave ships,


the places women cannot vote and young girls cannot attend school, under the convenient guise of religion, of tradition, of culture,


while Man holds sway, infecting each generation, circling each struggle for equality and emancipation like a diseased vulture.




These are just some of the abominable truths we stand by and watch, as part of the passing parade,


while mouthing platitudes to “women’s rights” as on goes the self-deluded charade.




I am Man,


the one among multitudes who must share the collective shame,


the one among billions whose back must be crushed by the collective blame,


the guilty unprincipled, vile, apathetic, uncaring, unthinking disease,


the one who must tear open my eyes in order to acknowledge that Man sees.




I am Man,


and no matter what I think,

no matter what I believe,


it is from deep within my putrid soul,


that this cancerous sickness I must begin to cleave.









an anti-Apartheid poster and slogan during the struggle against Apartheid

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