Tag Archive: Zimbabwe


Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

a repost:





A Tribute.


Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

(1929 – 1968)




    1.



    You had a dream, of pastures of peace,

    where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.



    2.




    They silenced you, yet your dream
    resounds louder still,

    in pastures not yet of peace,

    where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.



    3.





    You said that you had been to the mountain top,

    they tried to strangle your voice as you saw the promised land,

    those pastures of peace,

    where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.



    4.




    Today your dream is glimpsed in pastures,

    not yet of peace,

    for though they tried to silence your voice,

    your spirit in our collective hearts does rejoice.



    5.





    Your spirit, your dream,

    mingles in the winds of all those pastures,

    over the valleys, in the oceans, across the mountains,

    in every flowing stream.




    6.





    Today, your dream lives in the wind,

    seeding the prairies, the steppes, the savannahs, the pampas,

    pastures of peace,

    where children of all hues mingle like rainbows.




    7.





    We remember you today,

    with a shared pledge to nourish those pastures of peace,

    in each of us,

    where your dream may thrive,

    blossoming into our shared dream,

    bounteous, and alive.




    8.





    Your dream realised shall then seem,

    where children of all hues mingle like rainbows,

    when we give life to the promise of the radiance of your beautiful dream.






    Memories of Mandela 1994




    Memories of 1994





    Freedom!



    The shackles have been cast off.



    Chains broken.



    People once squashed,

    under the jackboot of Apartheid,

    are free.



    Free at last!



    Freedom came on the 27th day in that April, 1994.



    Freedom from prejudice.



    From institutionalised racism.



    From being relegated to second-class citizens.



    Freedom came and we danced.



    We cried.



    We ululated as we elected our revered Madiba.



    President Nelson Mandela.



    Our very own beloved ‘Madiba’.



    Black and white and brown and those in-between,



    All hues of this rainbow nation,



    rejoiced as we breathed in the air of freedom and democracy.



    Today we pause.



    We remember.



    We salute.



    The brave ones whose sacrifices made this day possible,

    on that 27th day of April,

    23 years ago.



    Today we dance.



    We sing.



    We ululate.



    We cry.



    Tears of joy and tears of loss.



    Of remembrance and of forgiveness.



    Of harsh memories.



    Today we pause.



    We acknowledge the tasks ahead.



    The hungry.



    The naked.



    The destitute.



    Today we must reaffirm,

    that promise of freedom.



    From want.



    From racism that thrives still.



    From hunger.



    From eyes without promise.



    Today we also reflect on unfulfilled promises.



    On the proliferation of greed.



    On the blurring of the ideals of freedom.



    Today we say
    We will take back the dream.



    We will renew the promise.



    We will not turn away.



    Today we pledge:



    To stand firm.



    To keep the pressure turned on.



    To remind those in the corridors of power,


    that we the people need to savour the fruits of the tree of freedom*



    And till that time,


    when all shall share in the bounty of democracy,

    We shall remain vigilant,

    and strong.



    And we shall continue,

    to struggle.



    And to sing out loud:





    “We shall overcome” …



    THE STRUGGLE CONTINUES !


    WE SHALL NOT REST !



    * – last words of freedom fighter Solomon Mahlangu  – executed by the Apartheid regime.

    A M A N D L A !




    N G A W E T H U !




    ALL POWER TO THE PEOPLE !















    With apologies to W.H. Auden …





    ( for W.H. Auden )




    tomorrow for the grueling work to begin,


    the rebuilding of trust,


    the sweat and the toil.



    tomorrow for reflection,


    the search for a new beginning, the hard tasks that lie in wait.



    tomorrow for the farmers to till the land,


    for the teachers to share free knowledge to all.



    tomorrow for the effort,

    to strive to build a new nation, to shake off the weight and the burdens of the past.


    tomorrow for all of that …


    but today,


    today,


    the gleeful, joyous, teary-eyed celebration of freedom …





    when tyrants tremble : Zimbabwe








    When Tyrants Tremble …



    when tyrants tremble,

    at the fury of those who tremble no more,


    their veneer of stability seems rotten to the core.




    when the trembling ones shake off their long-hushed fear,


    the trembling ones,


    tremble now with a rage that injustice everyone can hear.




    when tyrants tremble,


    as the dispossessed shake their foundations of tyrannical conceit,


    tyrants tremble,


    when the common ones expose the phantoms of tyranny’s deceit.




    when the trembling ones

    refuse to be cowed and bowed and beaten down again,



    the trembling ones,


    scream their vehemence as they have little to lose and freedom and dignity to gain.




    when tyrants tremble,


    their trembling resounds and echoes around the world,


    tyrants tremble,

    in far-flung tyrannies,

    as the peoples’ flag is unfurled.




    and finally when the trembling ones,


    take back the citadels, the streets, the squares, and the parks,


    the trembling ones,


    send a message to power that revolutions may be triggered by the merest of livid sparks.




    and that tyranny may reign for a decade or a generation or even two,


    but tyranny must eventually succumb to the rage of the common ones,


    that seemingly appears suddenly out of the bright clear blue.




    this isn’t a warning or a threat or a declaration of ill intent,


    this is a sober lesson in history for the peoples’ history with oppressive stasis can never be content.




    when tyrants tremble,


    they should know that there will someday come a trembling surprise,



    for the garbage heap of history patiently awaits each tyrant’s wretched demise …






    Zimbabwe 21st November 2017








    Zimbabwe 21st November 2017 …






    And When the People Rise!





    and when the people rise

    exhausted

    of being bludgeoned

    by the jackboot of suppression

     

    the demand is simple

     

    change

     

    for the better

     

    not the hollow, empty rhetoric of ‘freedom’

    heard in the corridors of power

     

    the demand is simple

     

    change

     

    for the better

     

    a better life

    devoid of the tyranny of rampant power

    without the imposition of mores and norms

    free of the shackles of the party-line

    the religious diktat

    the militaristic hammer

     

    and when the people rise

    inflamed

    by the ceaseless abuse of power

    as the old-guard refuses to see the writing scrawled across the wall

     

    ‘change’

     

    a simple demand

     

    for the better

     

    a better life

    for the living and for the ones still to be born

     

    the writing scrawled across the wall, and walls across the world

     

    is simple

     

    ‘change’

     

    for the better

    a new way to forge the future

    with fresh ideas and the opening up of the boulevards

    of opportunity for those who have remained outside for too long

     

    and when the people rise

    hopeful

    of the promise of a new dawn

    the future is a blank-slate lying amidst the debris

     

    for if the rising of the people

    prevails

    a beginning may be written anew

    out of the seed of change which into a tree of promise grew

     

    a new beginning may be written afresh

    with the values of simple humanity and gentle tolerance

    so that what has passed and what has been endured may never

    be visited again on those to come, and on those who bear the wounds on their flesh

     

    for when the rising of the people

    prevails

    the road ahead may be fraught with thorns and more pain

    for change is pock-marked with the scars of the past, and the memories do indeed remain

     

    so when the rising of the people

    prevails

    the hope is for the common good, for the tolerance of the one and of all

     

    the hope is for a better, more just today, and a tomorrow where the ideals of justice and of truth are firmly rooted, never to be shaken

     

    the hope is that in the name of peace and humanity, may the new oath be taken …






    double-helixed uBuntu

    double-helixed uBuntu.

    image

    these interwoven veins,
    dna,
    double-helixed,

    microscopic,
    binding us, all of us,
    together, as one,

    species, one race,
    human,

    me & you

    us,
    all,

    through
    this common
    shared
    truth:

    ‘I am because you are’*

    all of us
    together
    as one

    me & you = uBuntu*

    image

    image

    * – uBuntu is an isiXhosa/isiZulu concept that espouses the “belief in a universal bond of sharing that connects all humanity”

    The Social Chameleon

    The Chameleon

    1.

    strange creature
    blends-in
    or at least tries to

    could be seen as deceptive
    stealthy

    alas the chameleon cannot resist

    its hardcoded genetic imprints make it so

    2.

    ‘The Social Chameleon’

    laughing
    wandering

    trying to fit in

    always

    harder
    craving acceptance
    wanting to belong

    somewhere at least

    so please take a minute
    &

    think about this for a while …

    grow up someplace
    then leave

    start someplace else
    then leave

    start someplace else
    then leave

    start someplace else
    then leave

    start someplace else
    which happens to be here

    now
    where the social chameleon is presently

    starting someplace else …

    Ps: “The Social Chameleon” also goes by the label

    though often an epithet

    ‘immigrant’

                ______

    (inspired by the poem “The Good Immigrant” by Maria Jastrzębska)

    Black Lives Are Cheap …

    we’ve seen it all so many times before

    you see, the truth is at its very core,

    that,

    black people are subhuman,

    not perhaps animals,

    because we treat our pets better than we treat those fucking niggers,

    oh have I offended you by ignoring  your politically fucking correct ‘n’ word?

    well I don’t care,

    because the truth stinks much much more,

    the truth stinks like a massive fucking shitheap,

    because the truth is,

    black lives are cheap!

    we’ve seen it all before, and that’s something they just don’t get,

    we remember, you see, we fucking remember!

    Mozambique
    Chile
    Vietnam
    South Africa
    The United States of America
    Palestine,
    Iraq
    El Salvador
    Angola
    Afghanistan
    Laos
    The United Kingdom
    Burma
    Grenada
    Namibia
    Hiroshima
    Nagasaki

    Cape Town Ferguson Gaza Johannesburg Ramallah New York City London Kabul Washington D.C Jenin Tel Aviv Santiago Bulawayo Kinshasa Lumumbashi Harlem Soweto Gugulethu Mamelodi Khayelitsha Chatsworth Eldorado Park Sebokeng Lenasia Mannenberg Alexandra Township Favellas Shanty Towns Slums Informal Settlements Squatter Camps Chawls Guantanamo Bay South Central Los Angeles

    we remember that our brothers & our sisters everywhere

    whose hues and shades and rainbow colours

    make us your number one suspect,

    the rapist criminal lazy drunken hand-me-down wanting creep,

    yes all of that and more

    because goddammit black lives are fucking cheap!

    CAN you EVEN BEGIN to understand the REASONS why We, The People, are so fucking pissed off?

    Are you even human enough to acknowledge THE FACTS,

    Are you capable of thinking just one more level deep?

    And perhaps then you will know why,

    We, The Peoples’,

    us niggers,

    lives are so cheap!

    For Comrade and President Oliver Reginald Tambo (1917 – 1993)

    Escaping the omnipresent shadows,

    eluding the sweaty palms of the torturer,

    running to shed this sorry skin of shame,

    in hiding, here and there, with no one,

    yet everyone to silently blame.

    Leaving the lips once kissed behind,

    to a refuge impossible to find,

    not a word of sad welcome,

    severing all ties that bind.

    And then finally off to a new dwelling in a faraway alien land,

    reeking and drenched in a foreignness so blatantly bland,

    never fitting in, though always dreading being shut out,

    singing paeans to hope scribbled in the sand.

    You left your country, your home, your very own place of being,

    you fled, into exile, far away from blinded eyes so unseeing,

    and you held to a principle within, and you stood resolute,

    till the shadows felt themselves in shame fleeing,

    We salute you! And all like you, and the so many countless more,

    into whose flesh the tyrant’s sword so cruelly tore,

    We salute you! You who fought at home and you who left to fight,

    from afar, on often a bleak and distant shore

    scribblerofverses@gmail.com