"biko" poems
please dont touch my crown
the black rubies were encrusted by steve biko
madam cj walker made it a sign of royalty
blood was shed for this ***** hair
i am a servant to this crown, and i will show my loyalty.
please dont touch my crown
i can feel the curlism in your fingers
your greedy hands appropriate it for relevance
you have hated volume and colour for centuries
but now you see beauty where you once saw pestilence.
please dont touch my crown
let your eyes feast on the sight of true glory
forget about vanity, and hear our chains
taste our dry blood, smell our lynched bodies
but never touch our hair without remembering our pain.
- t.m
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
I'm No born free
I tasted the dust of apartheid
My mother was hiding behind the trees screaming for help
No one was there
No time to sleep
We were cursed for struggle
My father never smiled when my mother would say "the baby is kicking"
Cause he knew,it wasn't the kick of joy
It wasn't a sign of being a soccer star
It was the struggle!
1990 Mandela was out of prison
1993 I was born
1994 the Dom's were free
No more Dom-pass,but not uhuru still
Innocent souls were lost
What was the fighting worth for?
I can forgive but never forget
When De klert called black fools
He said they do nothing but barking
We turned to dogs now
This is for Steve Biko
Chris Hani
Hector Paterson
Raymond mhlaba
Let not my skin define who I am
Let not the earth describe me
I know my future because of my history
I was raised in a town of fallen angels
Where blacks were deceived
Whites felt free
Turn the lights off we all the same colour
Don't turn them on
I want my son to know the history
But to not repeat it.
They say follow your leader
How can you follow corruption?
Zuma this zuma that
Its all illusion
I'll only follow u twitter
I want you to retweet all the ish I'll be posting about you,the Raping,The Nkandla part,The Cheating,The Art and the bunch of wives
Yes I voted,I still don't know why I voted
Helen Zille only speaks xhosa in time of elections
Jacob Zuma gives free taxis only to the voting station
Julius Malema will bring apartheid back it is said on radio stations
Mandela spent most time in hospital
All of a sudden his dead
Was he even in jail before?
Oscar Pistorius ran to ****
His now a criminal.
Mandela note on my hand
But valueless
Our economy is dying
Our world is dying
My Dear South Africa..No Power!
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
In order to be succesful you must be a fool…
Thats the worse advise you can get ever..
I am so hurt after i got an advise like that…
Maybe i dont get the message right, help.
Being stupid means letting other people oppress you to get succesful,
I stil dont get it…
Steve Biko ” THEY HAVE TAKEN A BRIEF LOOK AT WHAT IS, AND HAVE DIAGNOSED THE PROBLEM INCORRECTLY. THEY HAVE ALMOST COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT THE SIDE EFFECTS AND HAVE NOT EVEN CONSIDERED THE ROOT CAUSE. HENCE WHATEVER IS IMPROVISED AS A REMEDY WILL HARDLY CURE THE CONDITION.” From I write what i like the chapter We blacks…
The sad part is even after 19years of democratic freedom in South Africa, some people wont change the State of mind about racial oppression it stil exist especially more in work plaće enviroment…
For someone who grew up Free, born Free generation stil put the whites superior and continue worshiping them to be superior than the other fellow nlack brothers grow up…
I am a fighter, i refuse to sell my soul to please fellow White brothers for favours of better treatment because of my dark Colored skin…
Its a sign, with the more knowledge i am equiping My self with for better and my space of democratic freedom and rights, i will succed in life…
For all the previously disadvantaged people they went through some tough time and cruel struggle…
For instance the “72 Hour Clause. A clause in apartheid regulations which controlled the movement of African from one district to another.”
Those people struggled but they fought dor equality. Now that we have equality you stil wanna plaese a fellow White brother with all the previllages you have.
I my self i know that through struggle that i encounter in life i learn more on survival and live to tell a story…
Im dissapointed already about some of the side effect of the past but im not ackwoledging racial discrimination nor even allow it to happen infront of me with a mute sense…
Can’t you see the light!
Its sign…
For all the unprevillaged people the is no succes without a struggle…
From the struggle you learn how to survive and live to tell a story…
Don’t water a thorn tree and expect an apple…
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
What became of the land which birthed Nelson Mandela?
What became of the land which displayed unity,
A rainbow nation?
What became of the energy of 2010?
Why is there dissatisfaction?
What became of Steve Biko's consiousness?
Why do we have no confidence?
Why do we have to build high walls?
Why do we fear guns?
What became of 27 April 1994?
What became of my land?
What became of the rich African soil?
What became of my land?
What became of my land?
The land that once nourished patriotic seeds,
Now bears fruits of violence, corruption, sinister deeds.
What became of my land?
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
A for Austerity, P for Poverty,
R for Recession, and U for Unemployment.
Recession is in town with her three
Un-amusing friends, whose hands are always
on their lips; and wherever the gang goes
they take away the fun from that place;
tinny Tanana biko biko! Whose car is
unemployment going to take away, to
make him use his leg-dis benz?
Eeny Meeny Miney mo! Whose house is poverty
going to crash in, and undo a
lifetime’s work in a matter of weeks?
tinny Tanana, biko biko! What will austerity
sell to the state? Is it a string for
the ministers to tighten the state purse?
Hear! Hear! Recession is in town. Bad
policies invited her with her three friends
to party and paint the town gray;
shame on the leaders on whose watch the
doors of the state were opened to recession
and her three friends; their ears will
be filled with the wailing and insults of the
populace, like the cry of a widow, whose
only son has passed away, fills the house.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 5:10 AM UTC
Book: African Hidden Info's
Written By: Thando DebrokenPoet
_
To My Fellow Nigros
Lost Children Of Melanin
Fumbling Offsprings Of Mwari
You've Struggled
And Tumbled
In Chena Murume's(White Men's), grasping Hearts.
_
The Enslaved
And Consciously Disabled-
Till spiritually You Drowned
Deep Into Our Oppressors Feet.
Day-to-day You Lowered
And Waxed To Every sovereign state's Begger.
_
This Book Is to My Fellow Afru-ika
Sisters & Brothers.
And Fellow Nigro
Whose Ancestors Suffered As Steve Biko
Did And All Other
Liberation Heros.
To Name Few:Prophet/king Shake Zulu Of The Zulu Clan-
Prophetess Mtsopa, King Langalibalele , Takawira Of Zimbabwe,
Hector Peterson, Credo Muthwa
Mohamed Farrah Aidid Of Somalia.
And Many Unrealised, Unrecognised
Misunderstood Hero's, like the Xhosa Prophetess-
Nongqawuse
The True African Freedom Fighters.
_
Skinned Dark, Rough In Complexion
Creator's Mastered Creation
Though Notified
To Be Mvelinqangi's Rejected
Child.
Said Black pigment, displays
Alah's Curse Upon You Dark skinned.
_
Through Thy're Undying spirit,
mandate passed to Prophet Radebe.
I'll Unpack Africa's Hidden Truths
Self-owed By homme blanc(White Men).
_
My Intro, For My 10 Days
Of Poetree.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 10:57 AM UTC
A brilliant thought titled, my old friend told me to reshuffle before I write this. Touching humans with souls, be a friend or foe, I’m drawing this prose for those who were never told. Scared of being good coz being bold means bravery, Biko told me it could be repercussions of slavery. Forgive me, where’s my manners, let this be forever…I bet you’d rather hear what this has to do with the latter. What’s new? Signing future deals with the devil and smashing each other blue, can’t blame the Djs for scratching another Rhythm & Blues. Living like forever is promised, ins and outs, drinking high as long as my steps are polished. Put my chick on my payroll, so she doesn’t turn around and play ball. Same time, same eye on the vultures, busy eyeing my plate planning to scavenger my vouchers. Going to work building careers for Fridays and better Fridays, monotonous times with guerrilla peers for highways but never like gays. An agitating pain in my back, I miss the days of shooting hoops. Now the game has changed, I guess it’s time to rally the troops. Hoping I’m praying as I’m living through Everyday Thinking, regretting the white lies protecting the future of this everyday sinning. More kids still dying in the newspapers while the rest don’t even read, bad awes still killing our peacemakers while the rest think we’re free…
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
The air filled with discord on these killing days
I sat with Biko but did nothing to help but read Finer
Madiba sat busy in his cage mourning with the futile sages
In disquiet Lecture halls we called and voices rose higher
Then my errant pen rebelled and on paper fired in pent rage
Impertinent weeping heart wedded to agile immaturity
Spew words and scribble indictments bonanzas on fired lines
Tis the age of reason and now it's chimes for gospel solidarity
This is why 'n this is how to extract the sourness from the limes
Be it the irascibility of a fledgling's dossier handed to Authority
In that foolish morn and days of thunder the dye was cast
Vogue tirades in contemporary suits offers designer conclusions
The brothers of today embracing diversities in Structures vast
In palaces pigments open wide ensuing foreboding discussions
Flag immediately and contain for this is one that must not last
Biko sleeps peacefully with angels and rests in God's arms
Madiba walked free and danced freedom with all colours in tow
A nation finds itself with a bespoke tailor and plenty of new farms
Across the Atlantic a foreign voice was silenced and made to bow
For youthful innocuous tantrum yelling is not quite the ****** norm
copyright.12/01/2019@yensonAllrights reserved
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 7:17 AM UTC
Life nowadays is just instagram
Back then our ancestors had to write telegrams
The golden generation engulfed in black mist
They shoot cold heat
While I watch it all through uncertain eyes
Steve Biko with a pen
Robert Sobukwe with paper in a den
It haunts me
Great God,I'm tied in a knot
Great God,they fear not
I walk free,still fearful
I'm a refugee in my own smile
Steve Biko,Robert Sobukwe died for a cause
My generation is cursed
We are on pause
In the paws of a ruined future
As long as I still have my pen and paper
I'm a poet for a cause
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
I can see.
Flood of tears streaming down your delicate face.
Your rosy life replaced by a topsy turvy one faught with failure.
Filled with disappointments that have deprived you of precious sleep.
Laden with bouts of miscarriages and recurring rounds of ailments.
I can hear;
The deep groans you utter in your anguish.
The whimper you wish to suppress every time the belt of your supposed better half touches you.
The deep breaths you take before going into the doctors office,
And the bitter cry when you are tagged unfruitful by your mother in law.
Nwa nnem.
Jide Chukwu Ike.
Move away from that bottle and make your way towards His temple.
With a little belief, approach His temple.
With a little strength, kneel at His feet.
With a genuine heart, thank Him for the times of plenty.
With a sincere heart, pour out your heart in prayers.
With a determined resolve, make a vow or seed offering to Him.
Naught more I can say.
Much more He can do.
For He is Jehovah overdo.
Surprising Sarah with a child in her old age.
Granting Esther favour in the sight of her peoples overlords
Using a little boy in David to bring victory to his nation.
Just believe auntie.
All will be well uncle.
He shall fight for you and you will hold your peace.
#BASHORUN
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
Life nowadays is just instagram
Back than our parents had to write telegrams
The Golden generation engulfed in black mist
They shoot cold heat
While I watch it all through uncertain eyes
Steve Biko with a pen
Robert Sobukwe with paper in a den
It haunts me
Great God,I'm tied in a knot
Great God,they fear not
I walk free fearful
I am a refugee in my own smile
Steve Biko,Robert Sobukwe died for a cause
My generation is cursed
We are on pause
In the paws of a ruined future
As long as I still have my pen and paper
I am a poet for a cause
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
14th of august
the day students raised against the system
the day students turned into soldiers
the day young boys unleashed the demons
of Steve Biko and Tsietsi Mashinene
the day young ladies marched and fourth
like our heroinic Helen Joseph and Winnie Madikizela Mandela
the day stones became weapons
to be throwed to our fathers and Mothers
who betrayed their own children
the day corrugated metal were displayed as shields
the day history repeated itself
and this time it was not against the white army
but with one of our own
the day unleaded students showed unity
the day vandalizing was the only communication
to be used to get a rapid realistic response
the day we lost one of our own like they lost Hector Petersen
with buckshot's
the day eggs mattered than windows
the day 14th of august 2022
brought back the history of 16 June 1976
the day that events of it will become a story
which will be told to the upcoming generations
Sep 14, 2022
Sep 14, 2022 at 10:12 PM UTC
They have provoked her
The giant of Africa
When you stir the bees nest
You must be ready to dance
On the Cobra's tail they stepped
Does actions not beget re-actions?
In a sane society
Where human lives are treasured
Shall we continue like this?
Whose score is it to settle?
Do you want us to count scores?
This is not a battle you can win
Who cursed Africa?
Is this the Africa our fore-fathers fought for?
What really is xenophobia
Brother killing Brothers
But they forgot in a hurry
Are these the people we redeemed?
When a pride of lions are led by a Sheep
This is what you get in return
Disregard for human lives
Until their family is victimised
They enjoy in affluence
While we all suffer in abject penury
I have seen Tigers escape from Buffaloes
They stood as one indivisible entity
To defend their territory
Because enough is enough
We are a people of patience
But don't test the power of Naija
Take the battle to your leaders
Not to fellow Africans
Ask them about their electoral promises
Go to school and get a life
Acquire skills and stay empowered
You've got one more shot at peace
Go back to your history books
Read of our exploits during the world war
Google our feats in Liberia
Have you heard about the spirit of Biafra?
That spirit still lives
The one that makes us stronger as one
Sheathe your swords of xenophobia
"Naija no dey carry last"
I hear the drums of war already
But until the beagle sounds
You have one last chance at peace
Take it, before it's off the table
To our leaders and politicians
Shame on you all
Our blood means nothing to you
Our brothers are sent to Valhala
The house of the Odin God
Our sisters ***** and maimed
Shame on you and your generation
And to you the ignorant fool
You **** your fellow Africans
Forgetting we are all flesh and blood
We share the same ancestors and lineage
This is not the Africa Madiba fought for
Shame on you all!
My fellow Nigerians
I come to you in peace
Let us explore diplomacy
They want to turn us against ourselves
Will we allow them?
"Biko, were Ndidi..."
My hands quiver as I write
My pen drips blood
I fear for my generation yet unborn
I see a revolution brewing
But let us go back to HIM
HE is the God of instant judgmen
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 7:09 PM UTC