Home » Posts tagged 'oppression'

Tag Archives: oppression

ANGRY BLACK MAN – Poem

ANGRY BLACK MAN

Are you afraid now
Have I just
Pulled your illusory
Comfort zone carpets
From under your feet

Have I suddenly become
Your worst nightmare
Come to life
Blacker than
The abyss into hell
Spewing flames of
Raging fires
Splashing volcanic lava
All over your terrified face
Rolling down your
Blood drawn
Protective hands
Your body frozen stiff
As if Sodom and Gomorrah’s
Pillar of salt 

No, it’s not the end of the world yet
You are still alive
I burn you with my words
Salivary showers follow my speech
Not to give you comfort
But to moderate the heat somewhat
You mustn’t pulverize yet
I need you alive
You gotta hear what I gotta say to you
Even if yours are lead-soldered ears
Read my lips, nincompoop  

Fuck ’n ’ell
You bet I am angry
I am fuck ’n furious
I’ve had more than enough
Of your dehumanization of me
Year in and year out
Over five fuckin’ hundred years
Not only do you continue stealing 
Wealth of my land
You have made it your mission to
Eradicate me from planet earth
Only because
You decided to make me
Black and abominable

Whilst you took
My forefathers by surprise
And overwhelmed them with
Your uncanny brutality
I am a different ball game
In my time
I know you
More than you really ever cared to know me

How could you ever
Know me
When you’ve numbed your senses
To the suffering you cause me
To this day

Talking to you
Is like talking to faces
Of a desolate mountain
In the middle of nowhere

Crying in front of you
Is like
Crying in the middle of a desert
My tears evaporate before hitting the ground
The only thing your eyes see
Is the sub-human
Your sick mind has made me into

You don’t respect me
You don’t respect my humanity
You’ve emasculated my forefathers
You’ve raped my foremothers
So much humiliation
Have you subjected my people to
But now you have reached
The end of the road

Read my lips
Yes, I am one
Angry Black Man
My rage is wild
My rage is raw

I’ve harnessed all
The blood and thunder of my people
I shriek with every breathing cell in my body
To thrash your senses back to life
To awaken you to reality
Of my time
I want what is mine back
I want my humanity back

Things will never be the same for you
Your time is up
Shut the fuck up
You’ve said enough
You’ve caused enough damage already
My bitterness is five hundred years old
You can’t stop me now
GRRRRHHHRRR…MHRRR…!!!
You wanna hide now
I’ll search for you 
I’ll find you
This world is mine

©Simon Chilembo  
(19/ 11- 2019)

OSLO
NORWAY
Telephone: +4792525032
December 03, 2019

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XVII

HOME AT LAST! Part 17
WEALTH MANAGEMENT IN THE DIASPORA

Simon Chilembo, Pres/ CEO, Empire Chilembo
For an ordinary Diasporant with humble origins from their motherlands, with no history of family wealth accumulation over time and, therefore, not born with silver spoons in their mouths; as well as not having been raised with soft pillows under their wings by virtue of family status, influence, privileges, and power, the Diaspora can present unprecedentedly huge opportunities to earn money, create, build, and sustain wealth … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon).

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
March 24, 2015

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XVI

HOME AT LAST! Part 16

POWER IN THE DIASPORA: KNOW THYSELF

DEDICATION: To my Brothers, global fraternity of wisdom, my Teachers, my Dear Mother, and my children from other fathers all over the world.

Acacia Lisebo Maria Tree

Acacia Lisebo Maria Tree

Trees and flowers planted round Chilembo Heights residence have each a name, and a story to tell. The Acacia Lisebo Maria tree is Dear Mother’s life metaphor. Her deep loyalty and commitment to her friends I have yet to fathom. She loves her enemies. Over time, she ever actively seeks to bring them closer to her, if not under her wings. Ever benevolent to the enemies and their offspring, if and when they die she will contribute to seeing to it that they are buried with dignity and honour. Amazing Grace.

Forced to close a protracted intense, mutually irreconcilable conflict on certain crucial matters of principle, the great royal prince, his highness doctor professor Mdadakumbakumba Kumdada threw in a verbal salvo … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon).

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
February 27, 2015

YOU GONNA FIGHT, YOU GONNA GET HIT!

WAR IS WAR

©Simon Chilembo,  09/ 12-2012

©Simon Chilembo, 09/ 12-2012

Without being judgemental, and whether or not the poor, weak, and vulnerable are so by choice or by circumstances beyond their own control, they are everywhere, like sand. Fronted by women and children, they are prolific like the stars of the universe. Every explosion collapses them into themselves, only to re-emerge with greater force by way of numbers, condition, and distribution. Poverty sucks; like a black hole.

They are by design, conscious or otherwise, ever on the frontline. Be it in times of natural catastrophes, epidemics, or wars. They are hurt before, hurt more, and die before anyone else. In hard times, only the strong, good and/ bad depending on the eye of the beholder, survive. However, the strong who are fools tend to fall in extreme disgrace in the end. That’s the way of the world.

A Tai Chi Grandmaster, emphasizing the crucial importance of minimizing as much as possible one’s own vulnerability in either or both defence and attack, once said to me, “You gonna fight, you gonna get hit!” I like reminding my Karate students that when armies go to war, they carry with them their own body bags too. Everyone dies in war; it’s only a question of time. That’s just the way it is. On either side of the warring parties, it’s invariably the innocent weak, women, and children who bear the brunt of war: Collateral damage … (Continued in the book: MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)

To the extent that wars are typically bilateral processes once set in motion, carried out in either specific zones, or spread over several geographic locations, the warring parties on either side are equally responsible for the sufferings and deaths of the innocent weak, poor, women, and children. This is regardless of the causes of, or reasons for, the wars. The moment choices and decisions are made such that military engagement becomes the last way out in efforts to solve major national, or regional conflicts, the innocent weak, poor, women, and children are already sentenced to inhuman suffering, and ultimately, genocide: Necropower … (Continued in the book: MACHONA BLOGS – As I See It. Order Simon Chilembo books on Amazon)


Simon Chilembo
Oslo
Norway
March 14, 2013

 

 

TO ALL DICTATORS OF THE WORLD

AFRAID NO MORE 

I have crossed
The threshold of fear
My head is cold
So is my heart
Nothing hurts

No pain no more

On my Freedom march
I do see ahead
Your weapons of mass destruction
I am treading on
The carnage you’ve already caused
My eyes see only one thing beyond you
Beneath the corpses of my slain compatriots

Freedom!!!

I notice the inferno around me
Yet I walk through the fire like Jesus walked on water
I am on a Freedom-yearning high
I am in a Cry Freedom trance
Shoot me down
Annihilate me
I won’t feel a thing
You just disappear
Leave me my Freedom
I want it now
I have blood to drain off the land
I have bodies to bury
Their resting places life-long symbols
Reminders that

Freedom does not come cheap!

Someone has to die for Freedom
Someone shall die for Freedom
Before you kill me on my Freedom march
Just remember
I’m not alone
And, so you know,
The craving for Freedom is universal
My blood will spill to inspire
Other Freedom marchers all across the world
When I breathe my last
Another will inhale my soul
And my spirit shall live on
Much as the souls of my slain compatriots here
Take me higher
I am in a deeper Cry Freedom trance
That’s how we roll
You can’t stop us now

END

© Simon Chilembo, 26-30/ 03-2011

Defiance at home, FREE State Province (MHSRIP) – WARNING! Imagery may be too strong for some.