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Gaye Sep 2015
He was the ‘revealer of light’
Oracles he read, forecasted future,
Time moved, rustic life stood still
"Look back and see, there is change."
There’s no trial left
The deity acquired the ****** body.
Predictions are vague, he cried in pain
And he danced to his unshakable faith.
The God revealed!
The divine and man in a union of its own,
Patrons wept and asked for blessings.
Serpent’s crown over God’s head-
Shone in the dark light, his golden breast
And pointed teeth, sharp as arrows-
Pierced the patrons, they collapsed in devotion.
The dead hero arose with Godliness
He is God, his blood is divine.
There is change, there is change!
The drums arose and it stroke bold,
Patrons cried in religious zeal
The God plunged himself into the bonfire
He reincarnated.
Born again to die again! Born again to die again!
There is no change! There is no change!
Grief consumed by vampires
Ravenous for pain and loss,
An arm around the shoulders,
A rictus grin, another gaping maw,
Then a quick flash.
Acknowledging their hunger, he has none of his own
And no-one else to feed,
He is the son of a new angry tribe
And a father of none.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-33856907
Graff1980 Aug 2015
Genius is meant to grow
Instead dead ideas
Are spread like plagues
Wandering rats raid
The minds of the working class
Plundering their pocket books
Stealing time while filling their minds
With bile
Pockets of putrid **** swell
Filled with hate and fear
Tainting the clear ideas
Steering the flow away from
The expression of
Grand thoughts of science and art
And towards competition
Bitterness and regret
For a world of material goals
We have not achieved yet
Akemi Jan 2015
We march
Withering white
All seas to dust

The ground caves in
The earth grows hollow

Ribs through the skin
Teeth through the lips
Breath catching black

We march
In a ceaseless beat
To the rhythm of dead machines
Over cracked roads
And empty homes
12:44am, January 21st 2015
Akemi Nov 2014
I can see beating a dead horse
Is still in fashion
How vacant
How vapid
How sick

6:26pm, November 4th 2014

The Races, aka horse racing, is an exploitative form of entertainment that continues to thrive so people can relive the glamourous, vacant lives of past bourgeoisie generations.
Mohammed Aqheel Oct 2014
She was still a kid, Playing with her Doll,
Her innocent eyes had that Spark, UNTIL...

She was Wrenched,
She was Impelled,
She was Gripped,
She was Battered,
She was Exploited....

Tears Flowed down her cheek,
The Pain made her Weak..

Her Squawk went unheard,
Her dreams were Shattered..

Her Soul was literally Plucked,
FOR WHAT WRONG WAS SHE PUNISHED...?
Austin Heath Aug 2014
Weary and maybe dusty,
maybe a million years old.
Disappearing.
Shouting hatespeech
and trying to make others
as bitter as myself.
Toxic and made of stone.

Crafted of some **** harder than diamond,
but cheaper than ****. Also, I'm so *******
sick of hearing about hope in the human soul.
I'm sick of souls.
Cynicism isn't right,
but being ****** isn't lying,
and maybe we all have a little bit
of love and something else.
Exploit whatever feels better.

Maybe I said that wrong,
but if you can exploit yourself
you're the only one who deserves
to ******* do it already.
Sameer Denzi Jul 2014
A woman in heaven caused the fall of man,
Even though the apple was plucked by her man.
A woman in Troy caused a ****** old war,
Brave men fought for the honour of possessing her.
A woman in Judea gave birth to a baby boy,
Whose tongue caused upheavals that's felt to this day.

A woman in a bikini is a poster for her own liberation,
While in a burka she is a symbol of her own oppression.
She must be the cause of her own sexploitations,
For her assets fulfil the ogling market's expectations.

When she's *****, it must be her fault in some way,
For as she passes by, her brethren look the other way.
A young woman is responsible for her own lynching,
If she dishonours her brethren for her lover's calling.
As a child she is the cause of her own infanticide,
For she is the bearer of ill-omens and misfortune.

Has anyone ever asked her if she wants to be a poster,
Or a commodity, or a bearer of their burden and slander?
Beware how you treat her, for she is above all a mother,
Whose hands may cradle the next saint, thief or ******.
Injustice against women is sure-sign of moral and intellectual bankruptcy.
Ziphozihle Kati Jun 2014
TO AFRIKA, THE POWERFUL GIANT WHO IS BOUND, TEARS AT HER OWN FLESH AND CAN NOT SEE HER OWN BEAUTY

How long shall we grind our teeth?
As old man's bones crack to the beat
Of their picks digging white man gold in black man land
Afrika mama, you soul is sold

Vuka Afrika Mama
Ikati lilele eziko
As vultures tap dance on your corrugated iron roof
Hyenas point and cackle baring sharpened tooth

All the while you slumbered
They shackled you and tore your treasure asunder
Now is the time to break free
Clear those scales from your eyes so you can see

How long shall we cry these crocodile tears?
As the swollen belly babies, eyes filled with fear
Watch the queen who bore them, cowered in the corner, face to the ground
Battered by the head of the household, asserting his authority
No mercy to be found

Zijonge Afrika mama
Ubone ubuhle bakho
They lied and said your ebony skin wasn't beautiful
At all cost remain dutiful
Head bowed, queen uncrowned

All the while  you doubt yourself
There are those who eye and pillage your riches
May our united voice bring you to your senses
Lest you find yourself stripped naked, while balancing on fences
Expressing my frustration at the current level of dysfunction within Afrika as a whole. There is an accompanying video that is still a work in progress. http://youtu.be/LibStfY-TPc
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