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thomas Dec 2013
O Madiba! My Madiba! by Walt Whitman   (changing the word Captain for Madiba)

1
O Madiba! my Madiba! your fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize you sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Madiba lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

2
O Madiba! my Madiba! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up-for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Madiba! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

3
My Madiba does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Madiba lies,
Fallen cold and dead.



Hi all and hope you are all well, haven't posted anything for a while but today I felt that this poem by the great Walt Whitman could pay tribute to one of my life long heroes Madiba or Nelson Mandela.
I hope Walt Whitman wont mind me substituting Madiba for Captain but his beautiful Poem which he wrote after the Death of his great hero of Abraham Lincoln just fits the occasion at least I think so!. Hope you all like it.

Best wishes to all Tom.
it is said that
a prophet finds no honor
in his own country

hard truths
boldly spoken
are received as a
wretched cacophony
threatening to melt
the caked wax
blocking the closed
intolerant ears of
intransigence

Madiba
once found no
personhood
in his homeland

his people driven
from their land
by Voortrekkers

snortling Boers
gobbling the land
uprooting native
people from villages
they had occupied
since the dawn
of time

spilling Zulu blood
into roiling rivers
of conquest

meeting peaceful
petitions of the
aggrieved with
Sharpsville bullets
splattering
the blood of
innocents onto
hardscrabble roads

redressing crimes
against the victims
by corralling them into
denuded Bantustans
where rivers do not
flow, grass never grows,
game cannot graze;
only the dust doth blow

riddling the captives
with torments of
Transvaal Apartheid,
mocking the speakers
of mother tongues with
the fained eloquence
of bastardized Afrikaans

the dominion of the
oppressors, sanctioned
and affirmed by exiling
a people from their land,
outlawing their language,
dividing the nations into
a fallacy of separate
destinies where a forgetful
history blessed with amnesia
will anoint the conquerors
with the spoils of abundance
stolen from the vanquished

Madiba spoke of these things
and was awarded a prison
cell for twenty seven years

but the hostages of
a conquerors justice
remained destined
to be freed by the arrival
of an accepted truth
set free by the very words
prophetically spoken

prisons cannot contain truth
steel bars cannot imprison
the idea of divine justice

it slips through the smallest openings
like a wafting fragrance of the first day of spring

it saws away at the rust strewn steel bars
like the surest movement of a master carpenter’s arm

it melts the thickest links of iron chains
in the fiery forges that burn in the hearts
of all freedom loving people

the truth of justice
is born and takes flight
on the wings of history
covering the globes
cardinal ordinates

nesting in the most
humble villages
and mean estates
on God’s good earth

truth and reconciliation
can never be separated
planted together to grow
healthy nations and
communities of
trust and restoration

Madiba, you always
found honor with
the salt of the earth
the children of light
who seek to dispel
the darkness of
acrimony and
*******

we continue to
walk your way
guided by your
prophetic visions
we take the first steps
asking liberators to join
with oppressors, pairing
in a magnanimous walk
along wholesome pathways
perceiving the buena vistas
of reconciled communities
firmly established
on foundations
of peace, equality
and justice for all citizens

I caught a fleeting glimpse of Madiba
as he rolled by in the Canyon of Heros
showered under a June blizzard of confetti
and a resounding acclimation of love.

I was a plebe inhabiting a lower floor
Broadway office, yet my station blessedly
brought me closer to Madiba.  As he passed
I was moved by his miraculous smile and felt
the colossal reverberations of his waving arm
triumphantly hailing the sweet freedom of
liberation all hostages of feigned justice
exude in the vindication of divine justice
enraptured in the joy of affirmed truth.

Dearest Madiba
we are enriched
and blessed for
the time you walked
among us.  

You fought
the good fight
my brother.

Rest easy
for we shall resume
the climb to
the next mountaintop.

Well done Madiba
Godspeed

Rolihlahla “Nelson” Mandela
7/18/18 - 12/5/13

Ladysmith Black Mombazo
How Long

Oakland
12/6/13
jbm
NELSON MANDELA, NUMBER 46664 IS DEAD; EULOGICALLY ELEGIZING DIRGE FOR SON OF AFRICA, HOPE OF HUMANITY AND PERMANENT FLAME OF DEMOCRACY


Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; aopicho@yahoo.com)

Nelson Mandela, South Africa's anti-apartheid beacon, has died
One of the best-known political prisoners of his generation,
South Africa's first black president, He was 95.
His struggle against apartheid and racial segregation
Lead to the vision of South Africa as a rainbow nation
In which all folks were to be treated equally regardless of color
Speaking in 1990 on his release from Pollsmoor Prison
After 27 years behind bars, Mandela posited;
I have fought against white ******* and
I have fought against black *******
I have cherished the idea of a democratic
And a free society in which all persons live together
In harmony and with equal opportunity
It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve
But if need be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die,

Fortunately, he was never called upon
To make such a sacrifice
And the anti-apartheid campaign did produce results
A ban on mixed marriages between whites and folks of color,
This was designed to enforce total racial segregation
Was lifted in 1985
Mandela was born on July 18, 1918
His father Gadla named him "Rolihlahla,"
Meaning “troublemaker” in the Xhosa language
Perhaps  parental premonitions of his ability to foment change.
Madiba, as he is affectionately known
By many South Africans,
Was born to Gadla Henry Mphakanyiswa,
a chief, and his third wife Nosekeni *****
He grew up with two sisters
In the small rural village of Qunu
In South Africa's Eastern Cape Province.
Unlike other boys his age,
Madiba had the privilege of attending university
Where he studied law
He became a ringleader of student protest
And then moved to Johannesburg to escape an arranged marriage
It was there he became involved in politics.
In 1944 he joined the African National Congress (ANC),
Four years before the National Party,
Which institutionalized racial segregation, came to power
.
Racial segregation triggered mass protests
And civil disobedience campaigns,
In which Mandela played a central role
After the ANC was banned in 1961
Mandela founded its military wing Umkhonto we Sizwe
The Spear of the Nation
As its commander-in-chief,
He led underground guerrilla attacks
Against state institutions.
He secretly went abroad in 1962
To drum up financial support
And organize military training for ANC cadres
On his return, he was arrested
And sentenced to prison
Mandela served 17 years
On the notorious Roben Island, off Cape Town,
Mandela was elected as South Africa's first black president
On May 10, 1994
Cell number five, where he was incarcerated,
Is now a tourist attraction
From 1988 onwards, Mandela was slowly prepared
For his release from prison
Just three years earlier he had rejected a pardon
This was conditional
On the ANC renouncing violence
On 11 February 1990,
After nearly three decades in prison,
Mandela, the South African freedom beacon was released
He continued his struggle
For the abolition of racial segregation
In April 1994,
South Africa held its first free election.
On May 10,
Nelson Mandela became South Africa's first elected black president,
Mandela jointly won
The Nobel Peace Prize
With Frederik de Clerk in 1993
On taking office
Mandela focused on reconciliation
Between ethnic groups
And together with Archbishop Desmond Tutu,
He set up the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC)
To help the country
Come to terms
With the crimes committed under apartheid
After his retirement
From active politics in 1999,
Madiba dedicated himself
To social causes,
Helping children and ***-AIDS patients,
His second son
Makgatho died of ***-AIDS
In 2005 at the age of 54,
South Africans have fought
a noble struggle against the apartheid
But today they face a far greater threat
Mandela he posited in a reference to the ***-AIDS pandemic,
His successor
Thabo Mbeki
The ANC slogan of 1994; A better life for all
Was fulfilled only
For a small portion of the black elite
Growing corruption,
Crime and lack of job prospects
Continue to threaten the Rainbow Nation,
On the international stage
Mandela acted as a mediator
In the Burundi civil war
And also joined criticism
Of the Iraq policy
Of the United States and Great Britain
He won the Nobel Prize in 1993
And played a decisive role
Into bringing the first FIFA World Cup to Africa,
His beloved great-granddaughter
Zenani Mandela died tragically
On the eve of the competition
And he withdrew from the public life
With the death of Nelson Mandela
The world loses a great freedom-struggleer
And heroic statesman
His native South Africa loses
At the very least a commanding presence
Even if the grandfather of nine grandchildren
Was scarcely seen in public in recent year

Media and politicians are vying
To outdo one another with their tributes
To Nelson Mandela, who himself disliked
The personality cult
That's one of the things
That made him unique,
Nelson Mandela was no saint,
Even though that is how the media
Are now portraying him
Every headline makes him appear more superhuman
And much of the admiration is close to idolatry
Some of the folks who met him
Say they felt a special Mandela karma
In his presence.
Madiba magic was invoked
Whenever South Africa needed a miracle,

Mandela himself was embarrassed
By the personality cult
Only reluctantly did he agree to have streets
Schools and institutes named after him
To allow bronze statues and Mandela museums
To be built
A trend that will continue to grow.

He repeatedly pointed
To the collective achievements
Of the resistance movement
To figures who preceded him
In the struggle against injustice
And to fellow campaigners
Such as Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Luthuli
Or his friend and companion in arms
Oliver Tambo who today stands in Mandela's shadow,
Tambo helped create the Mandela legend
Which conquered the world
A tale in which every upright man
And woman could see him
Or herself reflected,
When Prisoner Number 46664 was released
After 27 years behind bars
He had become a brand
A worldwide idol
The target of projected hopes
And wishes that no human being
Could fulfill alone,
Who would dare scratch?
The shining surface of such a man
List his youthful misdemeanors
His illegitimate children
Who would mention his weakness for women?
For models
Pop starlets
And female journalists
With whom he flirted
In a politically incorrect way
When already a respected elder statesman?
Who would speak out critically?
Against the attacks
He planned when he headed the ANC
Armed wing Umkhonto we Sizwe
And who would criticize the way
He would often explode in anger
Or dismiss any opinions other than his own?
His record as head of government
Is also not above reproach
Those years were marked by pragmatism
And political reticence
Overdue decisions were not taken
Day to day matters were left to others
When choosing his political friends
His judgment was not always perfect
A Mandela grandchild is named
After Colonel Muammar Gaddaffi
Seen from today's perspective
Not everything fits
The generally accepted
Picture of visionary and genius,
But Mandela can be excused
These lapses
Because despite everything
He achieved more than ordinary human beings
His long period of imprisonment
Played a significant role here
It did not break him, it formed him
Robben Island
Had been a university of life for Mandela once posited
He learned discipline there
In dialogue with his guards
He learnt humility, patience and tolerance
His youthful anger dissolved
He mellowed and acquired
The wisdom of age
When he was at last released
Mandela was no longer
Burning with rage,
He was now a humanized revolutionary
Mandela wanted reconciliation
At almost any price
His own transformation
Was his greatest strength
The ability to break free
From ideological utopia
And to be able to see the greater whole
The realization
That those who think differently
Are not necessarily enemies
The ability to listen,
To spread the message of reconciliation
To the point of betraying what he believed in,
Only in this way could he
Serve as a role model
To both black and white humanity
, communists and entrepreneurs,
Catholics and Muslims.
He became a visional missionary,
An ecclesiast of brotherly love
And compassion
Wherever he was, each humanity was equal
He had respect for musicians and presidents
Monarchs and cleaning ladies
He remembered names
And would ask about relatives
He gave each humanity his full attention
With a smile, a joke, a well aimed remark,
He won over every audience
His aura enveloped each humanity,
Even his political enemies,
That did not qualify him
For the status of demi-god
But he was idolized and rightly so
He must be named in the same breath
As Mahatma Gandhi, the Dalai Lama
Or Martin Luther King
Mandela wrote a chapter of world history
Even Barack Obama posited
He would not have become
President of the United States
Without Mandela as a role model,

And so it is not so important
That Mandela is now portrayed
Larger than life
The fact that not everything
He did in politics succeeded is a minor matter
His achievement is to have lived
A life credibly characterized
By humanism, tolerance and non-violence,
When Mandela was released
From prison in 1990,
The old world order of the Cold War era
Was collapsing
Mandela stood at the crossroads and set off in the right direction
How easily he could have played with fire, sought revenge,
Or simply failed; He could have withdrawn from public life or,
Like other companions in arms, earned millions,
Two marriages failed because of the political circumstances
His sons died tragically long before him
It was only when he was 80 and met his third wife,
Graca Machel,
That he again found warmth,
Partnership and private happiness,
Setbacks did not leave him bitter
Because he regarded his own life
As being less important
Than the cause he believed in
He served the community humbly,
With a sense of responsibility
Of duty and willingness to make sacrifices
Qualities that are today only rarely encountered,

How small and pathetic his successors now seem
Their battles for power will probably now be fought
Even more unscrupulously than in the past
How embarrassing are his own relatives
Who argued over his legacy at his hospital bed
Mandela was no saint
But a man with strengths and weaknesses,
Shaped by his environment
It will be hard to find a greater person
Just a little bit more Mandela every day
Would achieve a great deal
Not only in Africa
But in the bestridden geographies
Epochs and diversities of man,

In my post dirge I will ever echo words of Mandella
He shone on the crepuscular darkness of the Swedish
Academy, where cometh the Nobel glory;
Development and peace are indivisible
Without peace and international security
Nations cannot focus
On the upliftment
Of the most underprivileged of their citizens.
Christine Ueri Dec 2013
1976:
black boy, black boy,
we shot you --
nothing left
in your small, shiny black shoes;
your tidy school uniform

2013:
white boy, white boy,
we will not shoot you --
nothing right
in your big, broken black shoes;
your untidy school-form --

instead, we will not teach you

white boy, we will not teach you:
English is for black schools --

Madiba, Madiba:
the jacarandas of Pretoria are dying;
the mimosas in the bushveld
have taken the Acacia tree's name
and beneath the soil,
the roots of South Africa are still
growing, exactly the same?
08.12.2013
whale Dec 2013
O Madiba! Madiba your ship has finally come to rest
Rest now, now rest, for peace was your bequest.
Humiliated, disgraced, yet in captivity you chose
By embracing your enemy, you learnt and rose.
Insulted, assaulted, assaulting, at fault,
Lover, Soldier, for Justice, for God’s sake!
Stop work, break bread, water and salt
And follow in his wake. 

O Madiba! Tata Madiba you who have overcome
A true mandala spun, a Nelson who has won
Overcoming loneliness, cowardice and fear.
Bravery but a blindness brought on by all held dear.
Shame, defeated, blame, defeated, fame -
Let all come, let all shake,
Same blood, same, all the same,
And follow in his wake.
My homage to my hero, Nelson Mandela by way of homage to Walt Whitman's to his hero Abraham Lincoln
Jimmy Herrighty Oct 2014
you were just one man.
jailed for infinity.
you never bent.
stronger than steel.

oppressed from day one.
segregated by your skin.
you were never broken.
stronger than steel.

the odds were against you.
against your entire race.
your faith never wavered.
stronger than steel.

i walked where you laid.
where you eat, where you ran.
your land gave me strength.
stronger than steel.

your love was so unending.
your hate, no where to be found.
you saved a who nation.
stronger than steel.

Madiba. Madiba.
Nelson Mandela
the original superman.
Stronger then Steel.
Dada Olowo Eyo Dec 2013
Away with the angels,
Mandela, he flies away with brilliant wings,
Joyfully smiling with heavenly beings,
He leaves behind, hypocrites, and crocodile spells.
RIP Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)
Jai Rho Dec 2013
What's the Word?
candles lit held high
"JOHANNESBURG!!"
above the marching crowds

What's the Word?
Madiba
"JOHANNESBURG!!"
Madiba
Madiba
*Madiba
HOW I MOURNED MADIBA IN EXCESS


Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya; aopicho@yahoo.com)

Rationality is antediluvian
Emotionalism is post napoleon
Shrewdness comes with the queen
Slyness a game of head boys
Strength ist meine Kampf
Bad dirgical mourning is mine
The dark son of Africa
My billow is love for humanity
Giving a **** the tick where it is due
Mourning heroes of the world
That battled for songs of freedom
In which cradled I the son of zinjathropus
To day Nelson Mandela is born
He is sired a new and again anew
Not the son of a chief but humbly
In humility as son of humanity
Victoria Nojang Jan 2015
A Tribute to Nelson Madiba Mandela

A great hero once born is gone,
His legacy shall indeed prolong
All African leaders acclaim him as a hero,
He is a son of the roots, the African sun
Oh hear his heroic voice, our Idol

Oh let's scream his name, Mandela!
Oh hail the great Iroko, Madiba!
For freedom, did he fight?
He the age old lantern, source of light
His words' a symphony to our delight

Oh you awakening spirit of Africa,
Your voice heard in the Himalaya
Your memories forever in our hearts,
Your legacy remains till we part,
Oh the fighter still fights!

Madiba shall you rise again?
Shall the fighter fight again?
Oh so selfless a heart of love,
He's reached the heavens above
On earth we build him a grove

Oh this tribute We give to you,
Though the sun no longer shines on you,
In our hearts you remain engraved
From dawn to dusk, on your grave,
Shall birds sing of glory, it's true

Oh Mandela, Madiba, we miss you father
For freedom's sake, you did not surrender
Your seeds shall forever bloom,
In heaven the brides await their groom,
Your laughter did erase our gloom
I hope the readers enjoy this piece
NOLWAZI JOUBERT Jul 2015
'Tata Madiba'
Father of the Nation,
Today you could have been 97 years,
but your journey of life was cut so short,
21 years years of democracy is what we will all remember you with,
Nelson Mandela,
the great fighter,
you tought us to love and be in unity,
your works we shall remember,
may your dear soul rest in peace forever,
while we still hold on to 67 minutes of Madiba day,
showing our love and care for our great nation as much as you did,
we love you Tata,
we honour your legacy,
together we still can because of your great dids,
'Halala Madiba Halala!!'
Notes (optional)
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2014
He was the voice of those who had no voice,
The spokesman for the oppressed.
He became a true hero to the downtrodden,
Who had been denied their basic human rights.
There were those who tried to stop him,
But he proved himself a true force of nature.
Because you can arrest the man,
But you can't arrest his vision.
And while they could lock him in a cell,
They could not lock away his ideas.
And while they could put shackles on his body,
They could not put shackles on his dreams.
And those dreams live on,
To the very ends of the Earth,
In every classroom where black and white
Learn side by side.
In every place of worship,
Where young and old gather together,
In every peaceful demonstration,
Where tyranny falls, and liberty reigns triumphant.
And in the cry of every newborn,
That they be born into a world of hope and tolerance,
Where equality and civil rights are the norm.
For you can bury the man, but not his beliefs.
And though his voice may be silent,
His spirit will live on and on.

12-31-13.
This was written for the print anthology..."Mandela, The Man, His Life, Its Meaning, Our Words"...to be released by Inner Child Press in early 2014...
Stanley Arumugam Mar 2014
Your legacy lives on beyond your death
You were constant in prison and palaces
You character was beyond fear or favour
You tempered justice with abundant mercy
You extended your hand of forgiveness
You turned the other cheek in impossible times
You taught us that reconciliation is possible
You saw a future beyond the present crisis
You cast off any illusion of being a hero god
You taught us that freedom comes at a cost
You reminded us that to lead is to serve
You gave our nation and the world special gifts
You gave us gifts of love, unity, faith and hope
Your legacy lives on as a bright light in our hearts
On the passing away of Nelson Mandela. Our beloved first democratic president of South Africa. Thursday, 5th Dec, 2013
Paul M Chafer Dec 2013
Through time,
Stars continue to illuminate,
Billions of miles,
Long, long after death:
R.I.P Nelson Mandela.
His light is not lost, it lives in the hearts and minds of others and will continue to shine everyday.
martin Dec 2013
No words of mine are good enough
I am happy you are free again
Nelson Mandela 1918 - 2013
People attending the London premiere of a new film about Nelson Mandela were told of his death as the closing credits rolled, on 5th December 2013. My new poem is written in honor of the anti-apartheid icon and I invite you to read it here https://www.facebook.com/pages/Lights-Madiba-Action/345492948926266 .

Like it, share it and get privileged access to my writings.

Iulian-Anton Brudiu
LD Goodwin Dec 2013
Who will pick up the torch and light the way again,
keep us on the path of equality and right?
A soldier of love and truth has fallen,
the world is a more fragile place tonight.

Oh young ones look deep inside yourselves with wonder,
at why they could not break this little man.
Take up the reigns and lead the march to freedom,
pick up the torch and light the way again.


*"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."-Nelson Mandela 1918-2013
Ottar Dec 2013
I can't end the year this way,
the title of this piece won't sway,
It is not an anchor to hold the stay,

but wait and listen to the choir singing
as they practice in the church hall down
the road, with too many cars, so listen...closely
and you may hear the high notes on
a night clear like this, just like this,

the information that swirls on and on,
about people, places and events,
homeless people kicked out of the park and tents,
political figures mishapen by absolute power,
absolute greed,
absolution to them a quick rinse in a shower,

more information feed my gluttonous mind,
I absorb none of it as there is newnews to find,
there is a woman out there
who has a reputation for causes,
wicked witch in the East beyond Oz,

gut check as some said
world paused to remember well,
so much left to do there as well,

Oh Africa!

The world's greed for your resources,
makes nasty fodder for the choices,
as to who is in charge this week.

So much pain, it is plain to see I can't write about it all, it would take an eternity.
A loss this year like no other, but a life to celebrate, who will Madiba motivate?

Natural disaster, filled with remorse after the eye of and storm has passed,
loved ones looking their loved ones lost, some evil gang backfills, a brand
of poison into the the void, the pain the anguish, in lives,
to steal the aid and make it their prize, to be aportioned at their will and price.

And George is back in the news...sad, so many things this year that make me
want to ball up my fists and punch the air, walk down the streets until I begin
to shout and let it out, harm no more, harm no more, anniversaries of bullets,

and little ones who touched, so many with who they were, I wonder who they would
                                            
                                                                ­     have been,    

I am not being flip and this is not Christianese, but God knows as the spirits they are
                                                             ­                  and He is.

There is no one poet
who can say it all,
there is no one place
that tears did not fall,
this may be a wrap up,
I have left so much out
and it falls so short,
maybe the ink I spill
is wrongly placed.

Tomorrow night at midnight, let's just embrace REFRESH!
not forgetting
lessons learned
poetic stripes
maybe earned
by writing or typing or wiping away tears
I could go one, but that is one of my fears,
...losing you.



©DWE122013
La Mer Sep 2014
Arrested and convicted of sabotage,
Madiba resists the Apartheid.
We live and rest in good company,
while counterparts seek new shelter to hide.
Time has elapsed, and man discusses these changes,
of the past that has rotted away, which builds upon our ignorance.
Do you not see the same in existence,
the backwards, in truth, which our skin folk arranges?
Rewind or fast forward, backwards will remain the truth,
I will remain Madiba, President of Belief.
Trusting enough minds with similar desires,
may place an unwarranted end to all others’ grief.

Swimming through a crowd of faces,
painted shades I witness unfolding.
We are but fingers on a hand, separate yet together,
Booker claimed this truth as a new era began molding.
Yet is this era really new; Are we to believe the past is past,
as I witness starvation, corrupt education, and abandoned dreams?
My kin folk inform and educate my evolving mind,
of hidden conceptions that my skin folk blatantly screams!
I am able to speak with my mother, knowing she is safe,
grateful that our family must not live in fear.
But why must some of us remain unused,
when our help is called for year after year?
Indira has communicated,
that you cannot shake hands with a clenched fist.
The fingers, which are part of the whole, clasp tightly,
for my skin folk, not my kin folk, are amidst.

There are racial issues, undoubtedly,
in the land of the free, home of the brave.
And all over the world it reigns,
you cannot be blind to it, that we have a modern slave.
This is not a physical destruction,
you will not witness it branding the skin.
But a mental and spiritual deterioration,
directed, and has infected,
most of my kin.
Obama jetted
back to Africa
soaring aloft on
gulf stream swank

a posse of
oil company execs
in tow, intent on liberating
Dark Continent
fossil fuels from unjust
underground prisons

American
entrepreneurs
angling to get the
upper hand in the
high stakes global
resource poker game
pulled a big time race card
to trump China’s
full house

On Goree Island,
political paparazzi
popped and clicked
a perfect image
of the neocolonial
white clad President
framed in a doorway filled
with dark shadows and
heinous memory of the
unspeakable horrors
of global trade

leering from
the portal at the
Gate of No Return
Obama welled with
meditative epiphanies
of personal seachange,
and the vicissitudes of life,
pondering his meteoric rise
from a Land of Lincoln
State Senator to
American President
in the span of
one golden
9/11 decade

At a
South African University
Town Hall Summit,
the fist bumpin,
mike droppin  Prez
telepromted the
star struck folks with
solemn universal civil rights
pronouncements,
wrapped in the riddle of
the pursuit of peace,
hidden in the enigma of  
the reverence for
human dignity

Later in the day
Mr. Obama sat at the
feet of a comatose Mandela;
whispering into his ear
why an Afghan peace
eludes him, why his
drone strikes rain
death upon innocents
and why his democratic
republic defiles
the civil liberties of its
citizens to ransom
a daily diet of fear

But Madiba does not hear
Mr. Obama’s feverish
confessions; his
ears are closed,
he dreams only
of the paradise of
liberation he earned
for his life's hard wages

Music Selection:
Gil Scott Heron
Western Sunrise

Oakland
070213
jbm
Geovanni Alfaro Dec 2013
When I hear FEMINISM, RACISM, SEXISM, IMMIGRATION
or the TORTURE OF A NATION,
my mind cries
and my eyes go blank.

Children ****** waving to their teacher
Their teacher waving back
A grenade is launched
and chunks of her pained memory soar through the windows of the bus.
War just won't stop.

In the Internet,
White-washed Latinos diss their mother's birth
throw stones at their father's graves.
Praise Uncle Sam
Although Caucasians are abusing them because of their skin pigmentation
Oh great U.S.A.
Who incarcerated Madiba and murdered MLK.
Killed more humans than Adolf and now want to buy them.
With a small piece of useless land in New Mexico and Kentucky Fried Chicken.

You PATHETIC CHICKEN
who wants to own the world even though you haven't been here one stinkin millennium.
A decade of power and now you patrol the streets.
please

You can't even patrol your own streets

please
Yenson Jul 2019
why do they bother
when there are four, five and six
when there are pink sky and rainbow
and a bird can skip from black shade to white glow
and federico fellini is on constant standby to do his art
why does a passerby matter in a parade just fitting and free

the hurt was from not finding intelligence in a post colonial sister
of thinking that the yoke of imperialism has been expunged
that the modern contemporary ones have inherent esteem
no longer tied to mental slavery in this dawn of Aquarius
and have grown to know real power is within us all
the hurt was the disappointment this was a fallacy

they still owned the minds and souls of  a lot of the new breeds
perhaps even more than the old brigade who were broken easily
by the Machiavellian Rulers and left to pay the heavy prices undue
I was hurt because I thought I'll find intelligence but met a dud
it was not a romantic liaison with a broken heart at stake
it was the knowledge that some will never be free

I was tired from hoping to know a 'woke" contemporary
and seeing mind blinded and indoctrinated puppets
I made peace with this, finding diamonds are never easy
there may just be one black diamond here
but by jove, its one hell of a gem
Yes, that diamond is priceless
Tell them to make sure they lock it up good!
JAK AL TARBS Jul 2013
A man who fought for freedom
Is frail and old yet remembered
For all his contributions and sacrifices
He made to rid all types of discrimination

In the early years a Law Degree
Seemed perfectly suiting
Boxing made him tough like a brute
But his soul-passive, polite and caring

A role-model to everyone
Who said, "Debate, no guns!"
A peace_maker for all

A teacher for all
Even in darkest hours
His humilty, nobility and responsibility
Is but a few of what we can reap of his success

27years of incarceration
All for the fight of discrimination
His sacrificed time
In quarries of lime

A day that they remembered
A day that they paraded
With happiness and delight

1994
People in queues of snakes
Waited for a chance to cast their first vote

*We salute you TATA MADIBA
Thank you for your valiant services
I dedicate this poem to one of the greatest fighters for peace in the world who is currently very ill according to many reportsd and broadcasts here in London. May he live for many more years and may God grant him health. Enjoy your 95th birthday today!!!!! You oh Madiba have no idea how you are apprecoiated throughout the world. This is my contribution to Madiba Day, it took me 67 mintues to write this poem.
Yenson Jan 2019
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
His light is out
But, the sky is brighter
Prisoner 46664
The Worldly fighter

His battle over
The fight still on
Prisoner 46664
His being gone

A man of compassion
Now at rest
His Legacy now
Will be the true test

His body is resting
His light in the sky
A man of the people
No Madiba....No Cry
MangoMan Apr 2018
A truly great ~promotional item~war hero.
He grew our ~businesses~ country.
A true ~capitalist~ philanthropist in every sense of the world.
You’ve left a mark on our world.
You will be greatly missed.
we have gotten to a point where we use great heroes as promotional items...
They took them…

With a ***, shovel and beards engulfed with disguise,
By fire, by force and harm

They heartlessly took them…

Loading with a military van from the snare, the school
Sabotaging their education and jubilance
At the brink of our oculus, like a hot blade through margarine,
Like the  evanescence of dew upon new dawn,
They were gone…


We cajole to Haram Islamic militants,
Not the slavery we signed up for,
Yet this is our story, but not our destiny.
It is profane and sacrilegious to talk slavery upon our realms.
Our ancestral dormancy and Jesus crucifixion outlines our history.
We were untrammeled...but today,

Our existence is dreary and clouded by mystery
We count minutes turning into tormented hours,
In lament of our own flesh and blood

They took them..
with needles and stylus they pinched poked and taunted us,
Like a bunch of sponges filled with voids,
Our hearts are painfully porous,
Dope them with defects,
Bring back our girls…

Haram saboteurs came in with a saber,
They took them…

How less of a man to not respect the words of the late Tata Madiba,
When he said"Never, never and never again shall it be that this beautiful land
Will again experience the oppression of one by another".
There will be war upon the element of Haram when Jesus intervene..
Bring back our girls..

(Nigreian acsent)

Chinekeee, man of Haram, bring back our girls_oo
I beg, why go they take?
Eeeh, god will go get you one day,

With our teary Nigerian eyes, will we ever see?
Adedagbo, our crown of joy ?
Aduke,   our beloved ?            
Afolayan  Walking in majesty...
Agbogu,  God settles dispute…

Bring back our girls.
" This poem addresses the Nigerian saga of kidnapped girls"
Briz Mar 2014
Big Mama Africa

Poor Mama Africa,
Madiba has gone.
Remember his dream
& move forward, as one.

Don't let his dream
be put down & forgotten;
by the schemes of the greedy,
the rogues & the rotten.

Dear, big Mama Africa,
your beautiful indeed
and rich enough to give your children,
all that they need.

So why is there such poverty,
starvation and despair?
There's wealth enough to go around,
if everyone would share.

But those who can, horde riches,
far more than they  need.
Denying their own people,
with  selfishness & greed.

You must get together
and speak, with one voice.
Across the land, shout your demand;
unite and then rejoice.

Briz 9/12/13
Blooming down in the form of triangle.
Making learners wonder why beetroot is around there
Argument take place,clean there,broom there
but scary to touch.

Sgb were called in may day situation.
Questioning the guard.
What happened but no answers were responded.

Because building were secured and unsecured because of a broken window.

Some said is the period girls
Some said maybe is a cat who was chopped by broken window.

Lingering around like fig fruits,
Ready to fall.on madiba day it became the 67 minutes of watching that miracle blood.

All we had to say was only God knows what happened and only God knows how to deal with it
Likhona Sep 2019
I write with a broken pencil.
Broken like my father’s promises,
he keeps saying he’ll change.
my mother’s virginity
and their 15 years of marriage.

This pencil of mine
is collapsing
like the nations economy,
my love for Madiba,
forgotten culture
and unknown heritage.

It feels like the false truth
of old wars
faught by my grandfather
and his brothers,
who never made it back home
to raise my mother
Maybe this is why
I’m comfortable in the shadow
of an absent father.

Broken and untraceable
like the blood on the white man’s hands.
Lifeless as the coldest of wrists
we have buried secrets,
In search histories.
Trust no one but google
We are lost,deep down
6 feet in coffins.
Masked it all
with a smile
because in the picture
we have to look happier.

I write with a broken pencil
broken,
but still a pencil.
Broken is a do not give up type of poem.This poem looks at South Africa and South Africans as a whole in terms of the history and how we evolving as a nation to becoming more advanced and western resulting in losing our african roots.In this poem we see how women are more liberated (leaving a marriage).It kinds of reflect how the past does creep and shape the future(old wars/absent fathers).It also shows how through all this evolution the generation that is born free is actually dying/suicidal because of social media influences and that living perfect digital lives is our struggle but through it all we still push and make it.Enjoy
Babatunde Raimi Sep 2019
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
Joshua Jan 2021
Dedicated to my daughter.

I once rose as the morning star,
But now am deluded and oppressed.
A wretched senile with pain laden tears.
Enslaved to passion of those days.

My unhappy soul is shaken with rejection.
Stressed with the failure of not to be loved,
But back in the days I was the only alley child.
That all the lass wanted to be with me.

Darkening my heart with passion,
But now am a woe to them.
Nobody to call me his own.
Faded with the calamity of the old age.

         Joshua madiba
Do you know what I will always tell my daughter.
Be famous.
Enjoy being famous.
'cos it won't last.
People are going to change.
The society will change.
The generation will change,
But you won't change.
Enjoy being famous.
Be famous
Joshua Jan 2021
Her eyes were drawing strinking looks to mine.
That I started tripping on her feet.
Worshiping the beauty I had never seen.
She told me to rise,
Entrapped by her voice.
Enchanting me with words of ecstasy.
At the moment I was enthralled by the princess consort's body.
A beauty beyond perfection.

              2nd/01/2021
              Joshua madiba
Joshua Jan 2021
I have been reading every book in a soft way.
Romancing every page I touch.
By the time I would reach the ******.
The pressure would be high,
But when I met you.
You taught me to be aggressive.
Rough and forcing.
Which other books don't want.
I no longer read books in a soft way.
Cause you taught me to be aggressive.

         Joshua madiba

— The End —