Home » subdue
Category Archives: subdue
𝗨𝗦𝗦𝗥 𝗢𝗥 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘? – 𝗨𝗞𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗥 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟮
𝗘𝘅𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗘𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗢𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀: 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗵 𝗤𝘂𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗿𝘆
During my stay in Lusaka, Zambia, 1975-88, some of my most memorable social interactions involved meeting older and veteran, mostly male South African freedom fighters. These were ANC members. Then in their mid-thirties and above, some of them had travelled the world. They would have been in pursuit of various goals, which included:
- Mobilization of international support for the South African liberation struggle efforts
- Military training
- Education
About all the veterans exhibited the abhorrent traits of arrogance, tribalism, bullying, cantankerousness, outright stupidity, and violence endemic of South African kassie/ township life. Hard partying involving huge consumptions of alcohol and drugs and all that it entails were an integral part of the deal. Needless to say. Shebeen culture carried with into exile. Not that Zambians were any less of party animals.
These veterans were people of all sorts, with all sorts of familial backgrounds. They, or we, as individuals or as special-interests sub-groups were motivated and threaded together by the collective higher dream of the attainment of the liberation of South Africa from Apartheid oppression.
Much as they loved to party by default, the majority of these people took their liberation struggle work very, very seriously. They were highly knowledgeable in the various fields of Social and Natural Sciences, including Mathematics. Some had had guerrilla operations experiences within South Africa in the 1960s; also, Mozambique and Zimbabwe in conjunction with fellow freedom fighters in those countries. Others had participated in major international wars, such as the Vietnam war, and in Latin America. These were hard people.
There were three distinct individuals with whom I shared intense mutual dislike for one another. Each in their own ways reminded me of some older guys and grown-up men that were generally not nice people back in my kassie, Thabong, Welkom. These horrible guys hated especially the ever vocal and visible little boys like myself then. It didn’t help my situation being son of an envied foreign man from Zambia. I had already been in Zambia for several years when I heard that, on separate occasions, five of the horrible guys got stabbed to death by younger boys on the streets. Good riddance. For the obnoxious people these men were, their souls deserve neither rest nor peace wherever they may be in after-deathland.
Regarding the three older exiles that didn’t like me very much in Lusaka, I imagine that a mortal confrontation would have ensued at some point had we been in South Africa then. The likely murdered wouldn’t have been me.
Zambia’s relatively laid-back culture had a way of dampening our wild South African township streaks. Otherwise, I got along fine with everyone; particularly those that found me “interesting to talk big struggle issues to”; their words, not mine.
My favourite was Comrade Mjaykes. He was Commander for a unit of younger, recently arrived immediate post-1976 Soweto student uprising exiles. Overriding objective here was to debrief the traumatized youth with various available and relevant medical and therapeutic methods. Intense and continuous conscientization political education was an unavoidable part of the package. And this was the fun part for me. Much of my fundamental geopolitics principles understanding was founded here.
Contrary to many a senior veteran, on the outset, Comrade Mjaykes was an unassuming personality. But he was one the most highly trained and educated around, both militarily and academically. He trained a lot, often alone late at night. He was very fit. And he read a lot too. Of his few personal possessions other than his books, he treasured a satellite radio that he had bought on one of his travels abroad. Commanding English, French, German, Russian, Spanish, and Swahili languages, the super veteran used the radio to listen to current affairs programs from all corners of the world. He was a well-informed man.
Being an exemplary leader with superior oratory skills, Comrade Mjaykes was a complete warrior in my eyes. An enduring source of inspiration that I last saw in 1981. Sadly, he was one of the earliest victims of the scourge of HIV/AIDS pandemic that began to ravage southern Africa and the rest of the world from the 1980s onwards. Comrade Mjaykes died in the newly liberated Rainbow Nation, South Africa, in December, 1994. No doubt, his soul is resting in eternal power. I can’t help but often wonder as to what he would have thought of the South Africa of today.
Acknowledging my Karate prowess already in 1977/ 78, Comrade Mjaykes said to me one day, “Much as I know you’d make a much better soldier than all these young comrades here, I’d rather you went to school first. You have the kind of brains there is a shortage of in our political leadership structures, see? We should be able to organize for you a scholarship for studies abroad. I’ll talk to your parents about this.”
“That would be nice, thank you! You know, my father’s biggest wish for my two siblings and I is that we could go and study overseas. But that’ll remain a pipedream because he could never afford the costs of an overseas education for us. Life is really hard for our family in Lusaka, as you know well.”
“Yes, I know! Your father is a good man. He deserves all the help we can afford him in that regard.”
“Thank you, Comrade! My parents would be extremely happy and grateful if mzabalazo/ the liberation movement can help.”
“It should work out for sure. But, unfortunately, currently available scholarships for full education up to university level are from Yuseserese/ the USSR (The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics). However, no, I don’t want you to go there even if you could leave tomorrow. My analysis of you and how you think tell me that you obviously are not Yuseserese material.”
“Why? How’s that? All I want is to be a doctor. A doctor is a doctor, no? There are Russian doctors at the UTH/ University Teaching Hospital, right?”
“Correct, a doctor is a doctor to the extent that he or she thinks only within the context of being a doctor and nothing else beyond.”
“I don’t understand!”
“Let me explain, Sae: you see, being a doctor, or any other modern, academically attained profession for that matter, is but just one of the multitudes of tools available for us to apply in the overall growth and development of society. You’ll, of course, recall that growth refers to the actual physical expansionary attributes of society; infrastructure, for example. Whereas development refers to the total conceptual and practical work that goes towards visualizing and realizing measurable qualitative and quantitative transformation of society.”
“Yes, growth or lack thereof is a function of ideas and tools constituting a society’s developmental visions as espoused by the incumbent national leadership.”
“Absolutely, Sae. Do remember that the developmental visions are promulgated in national development plans over specific time periods. Your brilliant explanation is further proof that sending you to Yuseserese will be a waste of what I see as one of the most promising of future leadership brains in our soon to be liberated South Africa. You must go to the West. Most of our smart ANC leaders in exile send their children to the West, anyway. There’s a good reason for that.”
In arguing his case, Comrade Mjaykes repeated a summary of standard rhetorical statements I had heard numerous times before:
- The Soviet Union is a Socialist state.
- Socialism is a transition state. Socialism puts together all the building blocks leading to Communism attainment.
- Socialism shall build a strong state designed to enhance optimal economic growth and protection of society and all that guarantees perpetuity of the imminent march to Communism.
- Communism is the highest state of existential wellbeing attainable for society. Under Communism, classes are non-existent; all are equal with equal access to all resources necessary and available for a life of non-ending abundance for all.
- The state machinery, i.e. bureaucracy, has the function of managing efficacy of Communism towards the full satisfaction of societal needs. Under Communism, given certain specific skills according to different levels of societal engineering and resources production and distribution administration, all are at the service of society first and foremost and last.
- Communism has no room for individualism, the basis for societal stratification, or classes creation. When Christianity and other religions talk about heaven, that’s another language for the perfect Communist state, actually. Only that Communism has no overbearing figures of God as portrayed in religious belief systems.
“That is the rosy picture of Communism, Sae. The reality is different. Just like the concept of heaven for the religious, Communism is utopian. The march to Communism starts and ends in the already dysfunctional Socialism, really.”
“But I thought that attainment of the Communist state was more realistic because it was based on the dialectical material world for material human beings without mythical angels and gods in even more farfetched heavens above somewhere in the distant sky.”
“Communism attainment would be more realistic had it not been for Socialism’s killing of the human spirit, Sae.”
“You are losing me now, Comrade Mjaykes!”
“I know that no one here has ever mentioned that last statement to you. I deliberately chose to prematurely take your political education to the next level now. That’s only because I really want the best for you and the future liberated, non-Communist South Africa.”
“If I may say so, you are beginning to sound like a sellout, Comrade Mjaykes. Aren’t you risking condemnation by others should they hear you talking like this to me now”
“No, my views in this regard are already known to even the highest levels of our command structures. My devotion to the struggle is known; I having been tested on many, many occasions over the years. But because we, the ANC, aren’t hard-core Socialists yet, there’ still much room allowed to hold principled divergent opinions in the on-going discourse of how to establish a unique, workable developmental model for the future South Africa.”
“I see!”
“And that is the point, Sae; behind the apparent success of Socialism in the USSR, North Korea, Cuba, and China, to name the most prominent, there are millions of robotized people whose senses of individuality have been broken to the core. Indeed, people may be provided with the best education in the natural and social sciences, producing top doctors, engineers, economists, and many more vocations. But that’s often as far as it goes.
That’s because, through various political indoctrination methods, backed by extremely brutal national security forces trained to think and act as robotically themselves, the ruling elite ensure that the people cease to think independently and critically over existential questions.”
“But I’ve thus far been made to believe that people in Russia and all these socialist places live happily ever after. Moreover, Russia’s support of ours and others’ anti-imperialist struggles were for that the world must unite against capitalism’s exploitative socio-economic relations subjecting us to lasting poverty and subjugation.”
“That’s a myth, Sae. The truth is that us South Africans we are just too free-spirited, too wild to tame for Socialism. It goes without saying that Communism isn’t even worth talking about. Our allied South African Communist Party is a good platform for training in polemics and rhetoric more than anything else. We’ll discuss higher level Capitalism issues another time.”
“I must say that this new side of Socialism has shocked me, Comrade Mjaykes.”
“You see, Socialism works for, and constructs linear thinkers; people who cannot think outside the box. People who think only in straight lines and right-angles in fixed operational spaces. Perhaps that may be one of the reasons Russians are superior chess players! I don’t know.”
It’s at about this time that my interest in chess waned. I dreaded the idea of my brains turning square! Indeed, many a South African liberation struggle veteran is a formidable chess player. If they ruled today’ South Africa as exceptionally as they mastered chess, the country would probably be in a better place. But political leadership is an infinitely open field presupposing capacity for paradigm specific, or beyond as necessary, multifaceted thinking in problem solving and application of solutions derived thereby.
“You have on many occasions demonstrated that you are a more independent and well-rounded thinker than your contemporaries here, Sae. I know that that’s why some of the older comrades here don’t favour you much. They simply hate your guts. Highly educated as they are also, these guys don’t take it kindly when they are pushed out of their intellectual comfort zones, especially by a young comrade like you. They are Soviet educated.
“I’d hate to see you stagnate or degenerate intellectually as you get older. That’s why you can’t go to Yuseserese for studies, Sae, you see? One or two young comrades of your calibre have died out there before. Some have had mental breakdowns. It would break my heart to see that happen to you. Although the truth is suppressed in our organization, racism is also rife in the USSR. Encountering racism out there is tantamount to jumping out of the South African Apartheid pan into the Soviet racism fire, if you ask me.”
At own private initiative elsewhere, the first scholarship chance I got for an overseas higher education was to Social Democratic capitalist Norway in 1988. I got stuck here. Primarily out of idealism and for love. No regrets. Norway is the richest country in the world. All things considered, life is as good as can be in Norway. Of course, never perfect, never fully satisfactory for everyone, but Norway does deliver for its people.
And the country is a leading Foreign Aid nation. Norwegian Finance Ministers have for years been megastars amongst their global colleagues. No Communism here. The few ardent Norwegian communists around are but fringe individuals or insignificant groupings with inconsequential social change impact, if any at all.
I write books now. I am what they call norsk forfatter. ‘Forfatter Simon Chilembo’ sounds ever so cool! I write without fear or favour, freely following my creative fantasies to wherever they take me. I live happily ever after in an effectively non-Communist state. If Comrade Mjaykes could see me now! All gratitude due.
USSR-Socialist trained South African national leaders across the board fail to get the Rainbow Nation out of the mess they’ve plunged it in after the fall of Apartheid in 1994. In big geopolitics questions, the USSR yoke is sitting comfortably on South Africa’s neck. Mzansi drowning with a sinking ship that is post-USSR Russia fo sho.
The USSR fall with the Berlin Wall in 1989 give rise to Russia. In essence, Russia is the ghost of the former USSR. Ghosts are no touch of reality. It’s therefore not surprising that, identical to South Africa contra Apartheid’s subsequent collapse five years later, Russia never could rise from the post Berlin Wall shambles. Oligarchs ruthlessly plundered the Russian state coffers, taking corruption to the next level.
Post-1994 South Africa created its own egregious oligarchic class through the State Capture phenomenon. This has shown many a Comrade from humble beginnings becoming millionaires to billionaires overnight. They have acutely incapacitated the South African state’s ability to optimally deliver the promise of a better life for all in a united, non-racial, non-sexist and democratic republic. The post-1994 South African oligarchic class has given the formally Apartheid state’s corruption colour. The former is living in the past. They have lost sight of the reality that Russia is not the USSR. Dismembering of the USSR is permanent.
In 2022, Russia invades Ukraine with chess moves mentality. Some things never change. It has turned out that Ukraine is not a chess board for Russia to play on as it wishes. Things have changed here. Parochial USSR legacy oblivious to this fact. Just for starters, young men of my age in the late 1970s are dying, falling like sacrificial chess pawns. The rest is a tragic war on a straight line trajectory ending potentially with a nuclear war catastrophe.
World in panic makes noise. USSR legacy ears are plugged. USSR marble eyes see imperial rebirth victory where the odds for survival are impossible to turn around. Meanwhile, Norway gives shelter and protection to Ukraine children and women running away from the ravages of Russia’s war on their country. No better place to be. Communism allergic. Progressive society as close to heavenly terrestrial opulence as can be.
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 23, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths haven’t abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved ones’ lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋: 𝐔𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
𝐓𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭
Looking at
The crystal ball
That was
The full moon
Last night
In the month of April
Revelation is that
If it’s a multiple of
The number six
Year 2022 is
Year of the Beast
On the impending third month
One full moon ahead
Of hot-nutted men’s
Refuse-to-stop war games
Orgies of destruction
Murder and pillage
In Ukraine
The last of
People dying
Dominoes-falling-style
Shall cause
The axis of
Diplomacy
Imperialism
Irrationality
Resistance
Sacrifice
And
Pushed boundaries exhaustion
Tension point
To collapse
Snapping
The blackmail:
𝘊𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘦’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶
The ransom:
𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵
𝘐𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
𝘐 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵
𝘙𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦
𝘞𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦
𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘯
Nuclear war
Brought to life
For one last time
Duration of which
We’ll never see
Humanity obliterating itself
From the face of the earth
In an instant
From the heart of Europe
Stupendous Big Bangs
Excavating the earth
Higher magnitude
Hiroshima-Nagasaki like
Mushroom clouds
Thunder-rolled
Into outer space
Black holes in the universe
Giving our once
Earthly bodies particles
Sanctuary
Reducing us further to
Sub-atomic particles
Heaven to some
Hell to some
Which won’t really matter
Anyhow
Total humanity decimation
Return inconceivable
Reincarnation ideas pulverized
When we’ll have
Already lived all
There was of both
Heaven and hell
In all forms
In our
Pre-apocalypse earth now
Abound with
Godly crap talks and acts
Everywhere
Wrapped up in
Satanic verses in
Proclaimed holy books
Fools don’t even know
How to read
Upside down
Downside up
𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘧æ𝘯
Hear my possible last
Melancholy song now
Those of you
Hooked on legacies
Show them now
Share them now
Enjoy them now
For God’ sake
We all gonna perish
Shit ain’t gonna mean no shit
In post-nuclear war
Apocalyptic world
Bloody ’ell
It is what it is
Worst of humanity
Playing out its ultimate idiocy
To the very end
Obnoxious
Woe betide
Tyrants of the world
Whilst we last
Let us breathe
𝐄𝐍𝐃
©Simon Chilembo 17/04-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 20, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths haven’t abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄
𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞
Please
Give me time
Walking a straight course
Is not
A given for me
Given are
Obstacles
From the first step to the last
I’ve got sores
Under my feet
I walk
Spiked metal
Carpeted roads
In my time
I’ve danced through
Landmines in my time
Bombs clapping sounds
In my ears
Don’t stop
Scars on my body
Don’t heal
I eel through
I scale
Razor wire fences
To get anywhere
My muscles are wasted
I’ve walked through fire
It’s a wonder
I can move at all
My eardrums hurt
It’s a wonder
I can hear
Birds sing
My will is intangible
It cannot be isolated
Cannot be broken
I move as I will
I get there
The elements
Give me no easy task
To set my roots in the soil
Hostility
Above and below
The ground is
A given for me
I must fight
All the time
I must fight
Absolutely
For everything
To reach the top of
The mountains
I climb
As a given
To sustain my life
Even just to serve
From a mountain top
When I’d rather
Rock and roll
Down to home base
In satisfaction
I’m ever thrust over the edge
To tumble ’n roll
Over ’n over
In pain
Hitting home base
Body twisted
A bone or two broken
I’m taken
Back in time
Back in space
More obstacles
To overcome
Another mountain climb
To the top
Where keys to
My well of joy lie waiting
If love
Blanketed the earth
I’d reach for you
My joy
Every step I take
Give me time
I cannot breathe at your pace
I carry
Weight of the world
Laden with hate
On my shoulders
I fight bigots
Hating me
For colour of my skin
They demean me
They seek to dehumanize me
Every step I take
They twist my words
Slander me
Project myths that
Colour of my skin
Facades evil in man
I get enemies for free
They muddy my paths
Spill oil over roads I walk
I slide and fall
I get up
Burn the midnight oil
Keep moving on
One step at a time
Against the clock’s
Sixty tick-tock seconds steps a minute
Sixty tick-tock minutes steps an hour
My steps have time tick-tocks
Of their own
As a given
In my precarious existence
Bigots
They seek
To break my spirits
Every step I take
I am indomitable
My spirit terrifies them
They shoot me
I die
They created Jesus’
Resurrection story
To cover their
Confoundment over
My resilience
Give me time
You’ll see in time
That I really am human too
Everything they can do
I can do better
As a given
I must work
Ten times as hard
Anytime
In my time
There are times
The agony inside
Is unbearable
My head
Wants to explode
At not only
The bigots’ cruelty
But their horrendous
Outright stupidity
When reason doesn’t work
When prayer doesn’t work
Because their God is made
In the image of them bigots’
Collective derangement
I have to stop and cry
From time to time
Please give me time
For my tears to dry
Starting from below zero
With zero privilege
Against these meanest odds
I’ll rule the world
It ain’t for nothing
I’m the oldest
Human being on earth
They created Adam
To sideline me
Doesn’t work
I’m here
As a given
On the eve of
My victory
It’s beyond haters’ imagination
But
I shall blanket
The world with love
As a given
Some day soon
Nothing can stop me
It’s only a matter of time
Brace yourself
My love
𝘈𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘬𝘪 𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪
This Black don’t bend
𝘈𝘪𝘹𝘩𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘬𝘪 𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪
This Black don’t crack
𝐄𝐍𝐃
©Simon Chilembo 06/04-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
April 13, 2022
PS
The pandemic is still in our midst. Fears and factual untruths haven’t abated. In my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories, I highlight fallacies red lights and how to identify them. Order the book, read, and be inspired by my philosophical exposition on the matter. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.
DISCLAIMER: I neither offer nor suggest any cures or remedies. I promote fearless, independent thought and inclination towards pursuing science-based knowledge in times of, indeed, frightening, life-threatening phenomena in the world.
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐕 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄: 𝐔𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐
𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄
High Priestess
Seer
Mother of my mother
Had people perplexed
Sceptical
Disclosing to them
Upon request
Likely future outcomes
In their lives
According to
God’s revelations
In her spiritual outlooks
The 1980’ saw
Television bring
Bioscope and sporting events
In South African homes
A marvel in the townships
Changing people’s lives forever
High Priestess liberated
Television
Gave grandmother’s visions
Explanatory form
God spoke
No longer invisible in the wind
But from a box
The people could relate to
The box in which
God
Performed and revealed his
Future plans for the people
To the High Priestess
Who told that
Television never
Switched off in her head
Empowering the people
For if grandmother saw it on television
It had to be true
The people were convinced
There were no
Fake news
Foxes on television
In those days gone by
Television association helped
Grandmother heal many a hopeless soul
Saved many a despairing life
I wish
She were here
If only for a prayer
On the other side of the world
My 21st Century
Television is in a computer
That under normal circumstances
Doesn’t switch off
Similar to the one
In grandmother’s head
The computer television is
In the palm of my hand
I bring it to my face
So close
I wish it could
Get into my head
Make me speak
With High Priestess grandmother
Who has since
Retired to the
Ancestral sprits’ domain
Call it heaven
That I can’t even
Dream myself to
But I’m here
Television in hand
Watching as it happens live
In real time
In modern television lingo
As a man bombs a hospital
In there died infants
Children waiting to be born
Died in their mothers’ bellies
Bombed in the maternity wing
Of the hospital
Devastating a people
In the worst possible manner
Kill fathers on the frontline
Kill mothers in hospitals
Terminate a people’s
Self-propagation potential at the source
Ultimate cruelty
I heard talk of
Crimes against humanity
On television somewhere
The other day
Other mothers-to-be
On the run
Birth in open spaces
Undignified on rumbled grounds
Trembling from artillaried earth
Dead bodies
In body bags
Name tags amiss
Thrown in a mass grave nearby
As if infectious-disease carrying animal carcasses
Burial rituals won’t do
Missiles thundering overhead
Angels from hell gone wild
Others birth in crowded
Bomb-proof tunnels
Whilst numerous others birth
In lands away from
Their homes
A current people
Losing their present and future
All-in-one to a single war
Holding the world to
Ransom in one country
Fighting for survival
Against the onslaught of
One megalomaniac’s
Murderous land grab antics
Dreaming of recreating
Greatness-of-the-past illusions
Of a once upon a time
Empire built-on-sand
Collapsed under its own rot mass
I fail to make sense of all this
I wish I were
Seeing the future
As the High Priestess’
Television in the head
She’d tell it showed her
In the moment
If humanity is one
Those dead children
Are mine too
Their mothers
Could have been my wives
The troubles of life
Women have to endure
In war and peace
As I see it
Make me want
To go to war
Stop
Mad men
Who don’t see it
That way
I inhale
Close my eyes
I exhale
Open my eyes
I see
High Priestess’
Television in my head
It shows books
Flapping their pages
In the form of
A thousand birds
In a heart formation
In the sky
I see my pigeons
From when I was a child
Grandmother’s face
Appears
It morphs into a white pigeon
Pigeon flies out of
The Pope’s hands on television
Lands on my laps
Becomes a book
My new weapon of war
In the season of death
In atrocious earth tremors
Owing to war machines’
Pyroclastic forces
In the envisaged silence of
Pre-suicide moments
When self-constraint
Channels of no return
Have been traversed
I feel happiness intoxicated
I can’t explain
The sense of freedom
I feel
Chilling my spine
So
I write books with love
I write for liberty
Watch me
Defy death
Stop the war
Save the children
Bring mothers home
Save the people
I ain’t no Messiah
I’m only human
Of flesh on bones
I weep blood
For the dead
Who never saw
Their blood flow
Into rivers of pain
𝐄𝐍𝐃
©Simon Chilembo 11/03-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
March 18, 2022
𝐇𝐎𝐓-𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲
Where is God
When we need him most
One last time
By the look of things
Out-numbered one-to-five
When people work nine-to-five
For salt ’n water on the table
One man against the world
Gives no damn about numbers
People are just meat
Fire power pulling his nuts
Below his desk
Is all he cares about
Reminiscent of a man
With brains between the legs
Fucking AIDS of the world
Indiscriminate
Unabashed
He comes
He dies
AIDS lives on
Grows in numbers non-stop
Until humanity is all gone
From this space in the universe
The one man’s nuts throbbing
Between the legs
He fires his power
His missiles come and come
If numbers count
It’s not about
Nine-to-five work people
Meat
Perishing
But the one man’s need for survivors
To come lick his nuts
For black gold droplets here
Gold dust there
Bling hither and thither
Over enlarged territorial acreages
That God long shunned
Two thousand years
Of between-the-legs-hot-nutted men
Have worn God out
He’s away on holiday
In a place beyond heaven and hell
Countless light years away
These mad men
Having long made planet earth
A place called hell anyway
God doesn’t want
To be here
When between-the-legs-hot-nutted men
Bury themselves
In the illusion that
They’ll screw the world
Fire missiles
Come and come
And nine-to-five humanity
Meat
Shall die alone
When
Just as between-the-legs-hot-nutted other men
Fire back
Come and come straight on
With five-to-one leverage
Retaliatory aggression
No stalemate
No second chances this time
When we’re all gonna go
Dead
Done with hell
Done with heaven
Brains
Splattered
On crumbling walls
On tumbling mountains
Fantasy obliterated
Imagination dissipated
End of the world
Done and dusted
This here defies
All that is God
By any standard
One-point-two megatons
Nuclear bomb
Is universally equal
In the world of man
Men hot-nutted or not
Just saying
This here
Men power mongering on steroids
Playing death games
Can’t be God’s idea of
Being one’s brother’s keeper
Nor love thy neighbour gestures
When we’re all
Dead and gone
Disease doesn’t matter anymore
Mine is bigger than yours is no longer a matter
When our bodies are all
Dead and gone
God won’t have temples any more
When we’re all
Dead and gone
God’s greatest creation’ll be
History to no one
God’s eyes
See in the dark
Where numbers can be anything for man
Foresight long showed God that
The carnage of
One man against the world’s war
Shall smash his eyes
Blind him for life
Pray and pray and pray
And pray again
And pray, pray, pray
Useless
God is deaf
Beyond man’s reach
We are on our own
Now
𝐄𝐍𝐃
©Simon Chilembo 22/02-2022
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
February 23, 2022
AMERICAN NIGHTMARE
DIDN’T GO AMERICA
And, so
I didn’t
Go to America
I felt robbed
Yet again
God had decided
To screw
My wishes
Yet I had prayed and prayed and prayed
Prayed since I was a child
I saw beautiful America
In the bioscope
Swept me off my feet
Made me believe
I could reach for the sky
Higher than him
Upon the World Trade Center
I was smarter than him
After all
If only I could
Get into the screen
Off the wall
All I had to do was to
Go to America
I dreamed
Heard on the radio
As
Neil Armstrong’s first one step
On the moon
Was reported
For mankind
Was recorded
When other children and I
On my township streets
Enthralled
Sang about that moment
Monna wa pele
Ya hatileng ngoeling
Ke mang
Ke Armstrong
It was clear to me that
In America
The world couldn’t hold a man down
I’d go to America
When grown up
I’d be doctor in America
I believed
Science ruled in America
The day
I ate
Father Hammel had earlier
Convinced me that
I was a chosen one
Child of God
The bishop-with-no-name
Later came and
Patted my cheek
Nearer to the heart
My entry
Into the kingdom of God was confirmed
My wishes
Would be her command
For as long as I lived
America brace yourself
But
I didn’t
Go to America
At night
Year in and year out
I slept
Deep as I could
In the event that
Spirits of my ancestors
Came my way
I’d be wholly
Receptive to their guidance
As to how and when
I’d go to America
I went on to sleep
Hours on end
In daytime
Many a year in
Many a your out
To no avail
I didn’t go to America
Dejected
Faith gone
To places I couldn’t fathom
Only God
Only ancestral spirits
Knew
I felt cheated
Terrible
First
They dropped me
Not only
In the darkest continent
Africa
But Africa
Where my blackness
Was a curse from birth
Where
I only dreamt
Blood raining on me
Everywhere
In everything I did
Every bloody day
I’d at times wake up
In a fog of blood
All around me
Hard to breathe
No wonder
Ancestral spirits
Could never reach me
Could never speak with me
In South Africa
Land of my birth
God favoured
White people compassion-deprived
Favoured with greed
Favouring oppression of the conquered
As they knew it in Europe
Where they had been scummed
Their previous lives
The wretched of the wretched
Reproducing the ever wretched
Of the earth
Souls broken
Dehumanized by their own
The original landed
Self-imposed rulers of man
Creators of God
Who ruled
By the sword
Subsequently the gun
Now the drone
Not forgetting
Intercontinental ballistic missiles
No blood, no victory
No blood, no insurrection
No blood , no subversion
No blood, no suppression
No blood, no subservience
No blood, no annihilation
What a bloody mess
In Europe they had kingdoms
They had the church
In South Africa
Kingdoms morphed into Apartheid state
The church remained
Multi-pronged
In the name of God
Of many faces
The wretched of the wretched
Propagating the ever wretched
Of the earth
The only thing they knew
White people spilt
Black people’s blood there
In South Africa
People killing people
Became a way of life there
Not much has changed
So much blood everywhere there
People stabbed
People gunned
People molested
Bled and ran
Bled and fell
People died in pools of blood
When I saw blood
I knew I was alive
I got older
I knew I had to
Get out of there
America calling, baby
Came out voice blazing
Singing
New York
And all my doubts were squashed
I just had to go to America
New York
New York
City that never sleeps
Just perfect for me
Too much blood
In my dreams
During sleep
Mr Black President Mandela
Of South Africa
Came and went
As if from nowhere
Mr Black President Obama
Emerged in America
Went and buried
Mr Black President Mandela
Black Power
Circle of life complete
In Mzansi fo sho
Mr Black President Obama
Of America
Charmed
All charmable people of the world
Incredulous
Angry White people’s worlds
In disarray
Black-people-detesting cells
In their blood boiled
Resorted to the only trait they know
Violence
Pervasive as porn
Diabolical must be a place in America
Where they don’t know a thing
About democracy
Tyrants
Getting kicks out of
Shameless display
Of ignorance entangled in
Bungled communisocialism theories
Heads or tails of which
They don’t know at all
Founded upon slippery
Coagulated blood-paved intellectual grounds
Some gone to school
I can’t help but wonder
From which planet
The books they’ve read are
Their libraries must be
Drenched in blood
They must have been taught by
Crooked professors
Fake
Blood-sucker intelligentsia
Soiling academia of the world
Ivy League universities
I gotta ask
What went wrong
With these people
Or is it you
What’s become of you
Once upon a time
Revered seats of knowledge
Astonishing
Black people of the world
Caught Obama fever
Chronic
Need no inoculation
Obama ain’t Corona
Got
Obama talk
Got
Obama walk
Yah, man
Bob Marley had said it before
No more cry, man
Dry your tears
Black child
Martin Luther King’s
Dream had come true
We had overcome
Free at last
America
Watch me
I’m coming home
Where’s the party, babe
There’s
The Un-United States of America
Amidst the Obama euphoria
I heard a gunshot here
KABOOM!!!
A gunshot there and there
KABOOM!!! BOOM!!!
Black man
Ceased to breathe here
Ceased to breathe there
Die
Nigger
Die
Reality come home
Gruesome
Genocidal Apartheid South Africa
Upon my heels
White America
Not unlike
God-favoured
White South Africa
Compassion-deprived
Favoured with greed
Favouring oppression of
Black people
People of colour
Rose
Showed its true colours
Emboldened
Raw to the extreme
No brakes
No remorse
Despicable
Mr President Doughnut Prump
Hit the scene
Raving mad
Apartheid lunacy
Taken to another stage
Up or down
Just as vile
If not worse
Mr Vice President Pence’ gallows
Spelt it all out in
The Capitol gardens
Obscene
Like they used to
Parade the streets with
Decapitated heads
Of their own
On stakes
In yesteryear’s Europe
Delinquent
White America
Spoilt brats
Seek to burn San Francisco flowers
On Madame Speaker Pelosi’s head
Shut her beak
Meanwhile
Paul Gosar
Unhinged
Animates
Ms Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez
Woman of colour
He could never match
In any way
On the digital world stage
Ghastly
Appalling
Repeating history
As is customary
Killing his own
In 21st Century America of all colours
On the streets
In the name of justice
For paralysed-Kenosha-police-seven-times-shot-in-the-back-unarmed
Delinquent
White America
Spoilt brat
Kyle Rittenhouse
Just normalized
Vigilantism in America
Comprehension bereft
Children of America
Just fallen deeper into
The abyss of hell
Horrendous
Out on the streets
On a
Longevity enhancing jog
Unarmed
Posing no threat to no one
Black America young man
Met his demise
In the hands of
Genocidal white America’s
Travis McMichael
In the murder trial court of whom
The latter’s defence lawyer
Wants not to see
Outrageous
On second thoughts
They can keep their America
My God ain’t too bad after all
Neither are my ancestral spirits
Gonna find me
Pure white as snow
Polar bear
END
©Simon Chilembo 18/11-2021
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.
GUILTY AS CHARGED
Savage As Observed
Savage As Observed
The case was as plain
As the death ground was plane
Blatant murder on display
The view as plain
As on a TV on a wall plate
Everywhere News media stream
Global eyes witnessing in dismay
On a day in the month of May
Hands in cuffs arresting pain
Knee on neck effecting killing pain
Pervert’s fingers in pocket aim
To assuage phallic neck
Squeezing head with no shame
World’s emotions ‘n disarray steam
I would have cried in pain
Tears poured out in vain
Lost in torrential rain
Over hostile terrain
Upon which Derek Chauvin
As with his cohorts they train
How to oppress and strain
Black lives again and again
Had George Floyd been slain
For the murderer to retain
Disdain
For people the colour of whom he can’t drain
Whose annihilation he can’t gain
White supremacy ‘s got no brain
Needs a grain
Of justice every step of the way to refrain
From pushing on the race hate train
The latter effort is mundane
No longer can justice entertain
Black hate reign
Rot in jail
Don’t wail
Watch your pomposity wane
Until you are frail
Perish at pace of a snail
Evaporate as water in a pail
In the shade
No space to contain
Your remains
You ain’t arcane
You’re just stupid, plain and vain
No one could sustain
But abstain
From your racist lynching strain
Psychopath immune to pain
Your white privilege ‘s down the drain
Slow death to your deranged brain
Choke in trenches with the hail
I CAN’T BREATHE
Feel how it is
Who feels it knows it
END
©Simon Chilembo 21/04-2021
SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
Tel.: +4792525032
April 21, 2021
RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!
PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my latest book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories.