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Social History Poems | Social Poems About History

These Social History poems are examples of Social poems about History. These are the best examples of Social History poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

The 80's

This is a decade that many wonderful things happened; 
I was born, the reign of hard rock began, 
Michael Jackson began to moonwalk, Cars became smoother 
on the road, Cold War reigned, and also a time that soul music 
massaged our souls and emotions.
This is a decade that never dies. People who were born 
and lived in the 80s still live, the music still exists in hard-drives, 
teenagers have immortalized the fashion sense, and
my yellowing birth certificate still lives on, with one piece.

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi

Details | Free verse | |


~2012 New Berlin Remix~

Rapid Eye Movements
cruise down the Autobahn,
driving dreams of soldiers 
slaying the wicked Beast in the East,
seeds hidden in the cuff links
returning home for the victory parade.

The victory parade of the new millennium
is a mirage, as desert sand blows 
through the desolate streets of Basra,
spray painted slogans of 'Aryan Nation'
scrawled across crumbling walls.
High level Terror-alerts
scroll across the Fear o' Dome,
breeding paranoid glances 
of commercial-class passengers
flying high above barbed-wire compounds:
camps of cells in solitary confinement,
centralized secret service agents
unload the next set of trains.

"Son, do you forget all that we sacrificed?!
Have you lost all of your respect?
Okay, so maybe the Feds
became brainwashed by the Reds,
but this is for our freedom and safety.
This isn't about racial impurity,
but our Nationalist Socialist security!"

"You are all mixed now anyway,
doesn't matter if you are female, black, jew or gay,
we must unite together as a nation,
proudly wave our flags, fight our common enemy!
This enemy is trying to disintegrate
the very fabric of our free society!"

"Son, why can't you just see?!"
"Son, can you not see! Not see-notsee-notsea-notsi-notzi 
natzi-nazi-natzi-notzi-notsi-notsea-notsee-not see!"

....cold sweat.

I wake-up from a horrible nightmare,
remnants of images floating through my head.
Something about flocks of carnivorous sheep,
and rabid wolves for shepherds?
Jumping out of bed,
I quickly look in the mirror
just to make sure.
Everything looks as it should.
Lawnmower growls in the background,
sunshine leaks into the room
adding a warm touch to reality.
Through my bedroom window,
I spy the neighbour's Iron Eagle weathervane
goose-stepping towards the east.

Everything appears normal,
here, on the corner of 4th Reichstag Blvd.


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

A Declaration On Independence Day

On Independence Day
I declare  independence 
from American imperialism.
I declare U.S. out of Iraq.
And while I am at it
the C.I.A. out of the business
of supplying murderous thugs
with rifles and uniforms 
along with the strategies 
to extinguish
democracy in Haiti.
I also call for the pullout
of State Department funding
in the not so secret 
of the fair and duly elected
President of Venezuela.
On Independence Day
I have the right to say
we need a new policy.
Therefore, I call
for independence from oil.
I call for windmills 
and solar panels
and cool looking hybrid cars 
getting 100 miles to the gallon.
I am tired of chanting
No Blood For Oil.
On Independence Day
I look to a nation
involved in war for war's sake
war to simulate the economy
and make our leaders look great
and call for a different fate.
I declare our politicians
give up corporate sponsorship
and live up to this great nation's
highest aspirations.
Freedom from
illegal occupation.
Freedom from 
propaganda and torture.
Freedom from 
criminal actions
on sovereign nations.
I declare transcendence.
I declare we live up to
life, liberty and the pursuit
of happiness
for all humanity.
I declare world independence
from monarchies, theocracies
totalitarianism, oligarchies 
and otherwise puppet regimes.
And I declare we all share these 
inalienable rights. 
Including the right to assemble 
organize and form unions.
Protect the health 
of our elders
newborns and the environment.
And I refuse those who would
deny blacks
the same rights as whites
by suppressing their vote 
with twelve hour lines
in the blistering cold.
Let us all have our say!
And while I am at it
give the poor a megaphone
on mainstream talk shows
let their voices be heard
in the court of public opinion.
I declare freedom from
billionaire owned media
Let independent democracy
infiltrating the television.
Thus let us all speak our truth
and be protected 
from the tyrannical majority
and those empowered by the muzzle.
I declare that our forefathers
envisioned this and much more
in the age of enlightenment.
So that one day
every one of us
on this magnificent planet
regardless of class or culture
national and religious origin
sexual persuasion or gender
would be endowed and empowered
by an independent
yet universal 
human rights agenda.

Dean Walker

Copyright © Dean Walker

Details | Rhyme | |

Lines of Separation

During the Civil War, the Mason Dixon Line 
Divided North from South, separating families
In 1961 guard towers were erected
On the Berlin Wall, separation strategies

Although the Berlin Wall was finally torn down
The Great Wall of China remains a monument
Created to protect the Chinese Empire
Keep out nomad invaders with a firm armament

Now a line spans the aisle of the US Congress
They’re seated to the right or left, never centered
And if a brave independent tries to speak out
Be assured this courageous soul will be censored

Lines are used to separate wholes into sections
What mankind needs is more unification now
Segregation is wrong, regardless of intent
To those who seek to eradicate “lines,” I bow

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Rhyme royal | |

" Bahama Nation"

A nation of peace,a nation of pride
A nation that's spread far and wide.
A nation of hope,a nation of joy,
Thats free for all, man,women ,girl and boy.

A nation to give,a nation to take
A nation filled with reggae,socca,calypso and rake and scrape.
A nation of colors; black,gold,aqua....sometimes called blue
can be seen everywhere above land and under sea too.

A nation of democracy and old english style,but things  sure have changed if you
look up our file.
From outside rock stoves,to TV,radio,computers and wi-fi connectivity.........
I'd say that a long way from July 10 1973.

An nation filled with hospitality,love and history,
Arawaks,Caribs and American Indians are the basis of our nationality.
A nation where Tourism is number one, because of the Bounty of sand sea and sun.

Yes,a nation of Youth,sports ,culture,uniqueness and island fashion trends,
Like native Androsia our own local blend......and straw work and junkanoo,the list has no end.
This nation of beauty,splendor and self defense ;yes its celebarting its own INDEPENDENCE.

Copyright © Quentin Sands

Details | Rhyme | |


From sagging huts up in the hills, 
We watched the tourists flash their bills. 
They piled our harvest on their plates, 
While soup and scraps were all we ate. 

The flames lick up from garbage cans, 
Burnt brown like every working man, 
Who shouts or sings or mutters low 
Of the calluses that come and go. 

They toss in straw, more flames shoot up 
To light the faces, hewn and rough, 
that need a creed, some faith to hold; 
to make their insides proud and bold. 

Right then and there, I stand to speak. 
I will not play the lamb so meek. 
The time has come to take back ours 
from the wealthy dogs with fat cigars. 

First cans, then cars, we overturn. 
Now the boulevard begins to burn.. 
The fools shoot back, forget the cost, 
The naked rage must not be lost. 

We win ourselves some new recruits, 
Some young; some old; some simply brutes; 
I do not care where they heard the call. 
The revolution now will need them all. 

Our cause will die if all stays calm, 
So I send out Juan with sweaty palms. 
He won't come back, farewell, my friend. 
Your blood will flow for greater ends. 

Worn out, weary, our morale grows thin. 
The feeling grows that we can not win. 
We need more guns than we can steal, 
But we do have one crop we can deal. 

The rifles have arrived now. Good! 
Excited now, they crack the wood. 
My loathing of red, white and blue, 
is spreading like the jungle flu. 

Their army scatters, their leaders flee. 
We've brought the country to it's knees. 
With the capitol dead in our sights, 
We'll soon assert the people's rights. 

The grainy film does not portray 
That it was a picture perfect day. 
My second stands there, smart and trim. 
It might pay to keep an eye on him. 

We march them out in single file. 
No need to bother with a trial. 
Their baggy shirts and peasant lies 
Betray them all as filthy spies. 

Yes, the people had decreed this so, 
I speak for them so I should know. 
Your crimes have brought you here to die. 
The people speak through me. Goodbye! 

Their bodies jump in crimson leaps, 
then tumble down in tangled heaps. 
Scarlet skulls and splintered chests, 
They'll surely air this in the West. 

Bulldoze the bones and spread the lime, 
For we all are on the side of time. 
And tonight, we gather in the square. 
Their blood has paid my ruling fare.

Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr.

Details | Haiku | |

It is now

Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust 
for things start to be.

Copyright © viviane leite

Details | Ballade | |


Imagine lakes of dreams 
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose 
Or touch another soul 
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior  is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact 
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress 
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this 
Because that's what life brings.

Copyright © Andre Sanders

Details | Free verse | |

The Evolution of Learning (Part One)

It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Their enemies
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white 
Our commitment to killing each other
Is undeniable
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms 
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space 
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Verse | |

Looks Like Rain

Looks like rain, the old girl said,
As the sky broke stars and bled,
And the clouds all turned black with the swell;
The dingy streets were dim and grey,
The shadow people drained away,
And it seemed as though the town was going to hell.

Looks like rain, the people cried,
As the shop fronts closed and died
And the best days ground abruptly to a halt;
The fairground rides fell still,
And the view from up the hill
Was of streetlights suffocating in a vault.

Looks like rain, I wryly thought,
Just before the first onslaught
Of machinery oiled and primed for tearing down;
With the clanking chains and drilling
Someone made a quick-fire killing
By ripping out the heart from this old town.

Looks like rain, you sweetest child,
I know I muttered as I smiled,
And the oil-paint textures watered in your eyes;
Our own history set to burning
As the wheels they kept on turning,
In the hallowed name of progress I surmise.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Verse | |

Ripping Christ

Holier than thou,
sacred as a cow
  anointed with margarine spread;
a Sunday to rest,
some socks and a vest
  and a penchant for laying in bed.
Sicker than sick
and thicker than thick,
  drugged with a heroin chic,
bright light beams down
through a crack in the crown,
  spearing a spoon-bending freak.
Speak unto thee,
the voice of a tree,
  afire with gelignite balm;
whacky and wild,
abused and defiled,
  born to succumb unto harm.
Lysergic the feast,
the mark of the beast,
  halogen burned to emboss
symbols on skin
as forever begins
  ripping infinite Christ from the cross.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Free verse | |

TV Tremors

Star strung
like Bette Davis Sundays
marathon watching 
and sitting in tears
Wrestling emotions
which calm and confuse us
Confound us and move us
beyond golden years
like black and white vision
fuzzy and stationed
with grey rabbit ears
Lost in commotion
which break and betray us
which bullet gun lays us
compounding our fears.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney

Details | Verse | |

Altered State

Towers collapsed to foundations,
  The planes exploded in air,
To gratify firebrand preachers
  Destruction and death everywhere.

Bus became coffin on byway,
  Train torn up beneath ground,
Fanatics end innocent life,
  Spin godless chaos around.

Child kneels broken at graveside,
  Tears drip down to the earth,
A consciousness of pure evil
  Deems human life of no worth.

Enemies fester within,
  Harbour a doctrine and creed,
Under the guise of religion,
  And nurtures a virulent seed.

Enemies hidden within,
  Feral smiles, baring of teeth,
Approve of a racist agenda.
  Murder by twisted belief.

Why should we drown beneath?
  Fundamental waves of hate,
Why should we have to live
  In this an altered state?

They can go to other places
  Where their twisted creed is rife,
Where martyrdom and slaughter
  Construe their way of life.

The simple, sorry factor  
  The ironic doctrinaire:
The places of their genesis
  Won’t stand them living there.

Thus decent, honest people
  Are left unto their fate,
A homeland under terror
  Remains an altered state.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Rhyme | |


Pretty soon, night will fall upon the city,
And lives of crime animate spasmodically
As Gene Pitney croons “A Town Without Pity”
And the clubs and the gin joints open methodically.

Hepcat jazzmen smoke reefers, shoot junk,
The pimps clean their nails with switchblades laconically,
Fedoras pulled low as they mind-jive to funk,
And the neon lights crackle and buzz electronically,

Breast enhanced blondes catch the eyes of their johns,
Pouting and winking, the sale of depravity,
For a price any vice can be practiced upon
The surface of flesh, any crevice or cavity.

Cops pound the beat twirling nightsticks around,
Turning blind eyes for a bribe taken willingly,
Failure to pay brings the world crashing down,
“It just ain’t your day,” the cops whisper chillingly.

Wiseguys hold court in an old pizzeria,
Smoking and drinking and eating the scenery
Their empire of family governed through fear,
The rule of the gun and Sicilian ancestry.

Corporate needles pierce veins of the damned,
Chalk drawings map lines around death’s ideology
Cigarettes sparked and the siren howls slammed
Through the meanest of streets of pulp fiction mythology.    

In the world of the scribe, this pulp writer hack
May exaggerate slightly for sake of the narrative,
Yet film noir seems grey when reality’s black,
At the end of the day everything is comparative.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Free verse | |

Turning to Cicero

"The budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced, the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign lands should be curtailed lest Rome become bankrupt. People must again learn to work instead of living on public assistance."  Cicero , 55 BC

controversy over government nothing new Civil War? oxymoron in a country divided, there is no civility protestors fume on Wall Street Tea Partiers toss their caffeine into the mix Federal Reserve makes unauthorized loans but to whom we do not know states debate seceding from the union families learn to live on budgets countries spend what they don’t have why don’t we learn from history? “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s” is there anything left for us? look to Cicero and sages of the past Plato and Socrates will set the disenfranchised straight too
*Entry for Brian’s “Anywhichway” contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Rhyme | |

Taxing Benefits

I met a Sheriff the other day.
Just teasing, I happened to say.
I am stopping by to pay my taxes.
Giving you my money before axes,

He said to me, “I get none of that money“.
I looked up in surprise, and thought, how funny.
He and many others forget our taxes pay salaries.
They work for us and their duties are in galleries.

Without working people to pay taxes, they would not be.
They forget these things after office acquired you see.
They pump us up upon the Election Day’s arrival.
Reinstatement in public office is part of survival.

We the people pay for their cars, meals, homes, indeed.
Our money than dispatched into the funds that do seed,
Without the people paying taxes, their jobs would recede.
We the people elect and pay wages, so justice will proceed.

However, many law officials take rules made for all.
Bending them to fit their need, in name of the law,
I have the utmost respect for officers on patrol.
They need to be cautious, to keep crime under control.

However, to break any law, for no reason at all, indeed.
Makes justice suffer, two wrongs make a misdeed,
Their pledge, for no reason at all to break their creed,
Serve and protect, without wrongdoing, as agreed.

An oath, I know they all take and so easily forget after.
Some upon that tomorrow, just ease back in laughter.

Copyright © cecil hickman

Details | Shape | |

The Narrow Path

                       The narrow path
                           to treason
                            is only
                            a word
                           To falter 
                            in your 
                          or explore
                        To question
                      fearless leaders
                        or a decision
                      from the bench.
                      The narrow path
                          to failure,
                       the status quo
                          and down

Copyright © Dean Walker

Details | Verse | |

And You Will Know Me By The Trail Of Dead

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the whistle of wind in cutthroat pipes,
the jolly japes and spring heeled capers
in the sepia pulp of the Sunday papers
and in all the Jack Tar bilge in your head,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead
the gory tales of bright crimson stripes.
the intestinal spool of viscera and gutting,
the slashing swipe of steel blades cutting,
and the opening wounds awash with red,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the love-a-duck and strike-me-blind,
the dear boss letters and cunning stunts,
the hunter or hunted in Whitechapel hunts,
and the feverish sweats in every bed,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

And you will know me by the trail of dead,
the buckle-my-shoe and daily grind,
the Juwes and gin and pea soup nights,
the whore flesh slaughter and ghastly sights,
and the legends of all I did and said,
for you will know me by the trail of dead.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Summer And Fall

From bright colors even the brightest blond turns grey.
Grown men now stand.
Were once young children did play.

 The once new cover.
Is now tattered and torn.
time has all but erased the oaths  once proud men had sworn.

The field now overgrown  still haunts memories of the blue and grey.
Old worn headstones markers of were they'll forever lay.
No bell to ring no voice shall call.
The ghosts of the past erased by spring summer and fall.

The old porch stands hidden by a overgrowth of vines.
Now blank are the boards that once were painted signs.
The blood followed swiftly from the wound of the past.
To forge a path to a time that could never last.

Gone is the tree that once stood so very tall.
Forgotten by time 
So is the legend of spring summer and fall.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

Details | I do not know? | |

Keep My Faith

Lord, I believe in You and myself,
With You I can do almost anything.
Even if I'm overweight...
I believe You'll keep me alive until the day
You want me back home with you.
I'm sorry for my sins
And all of us are imperfect humans:
Debating about beliefs, greedy thieves,
And everything else you hate.
So please forgive all of us and open the gate
To Your Heavenly Kingdom.
Have Your Son save us all.
Sometimes I believe I don't deserve You
And Your Promise for Eternity,
But Your Son's words reassure me.
I feel scared of the destruction in Your Revelation,
But remember You'll keep me safe
If I just forever keep my faith.

Copyright © Marissa Faries

Details | Quatrain | |


He was the bard from Stratford, and as a teenager
he helped his father in his trade; he married and had children
and became the most popular and admired play writer
in all England...acting was also his other pleasurable passion.    

Curious Queen Elisabeth was one of the thousand spectators,
who came to see him in the Globe theater...she shed tears, 
and was stunned by the performance of his timeless plays,
and yet, some of his fellow-poets criticized him for his writings!

I wish I had lived in that Victorian era so intellectual and refined,
and had met him in person and had showed him my ample admiration;
I would have asked him the secret, which made him so legendary and loved...
and he would have whispered it to me, to make me revel in that revelation!     

I have read his inspiring works, and tragedies rampantly occur
from " Romeo and Juliet"...the Verona's immortal lovers, through" Hamlet "
whose insanity was undoubtedly caused by the specter of his father; 
and why didn't Shakespeare choose less dramatic plays not ending in death?

He wanted to teach us indelible lessons to show us how the human spirit
can be passionate, adamant, loveless, envious, cruel, unfair and treacherous...
to outline all kinds of guilt: from murder to envy so well-expressed with eloquence;
it's no mystery to anyone how he conjured up such plots with grief, madness and wit!    

Shakespeare was no ordinary kid, and he played with his siblings on Henley Street,
neighbors saw him trot to his grammar school, later he would make everyone weep; 
early in adolescence, did his prodigious mind envision one from a vague thought?
It's no wonder that he is widely read even today...hear his speak, he'll impart worth!  

Entered in Amy Green's contest, " Wow Me With Inspiration "

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Rhyme | |

...Perhaps Because We Were...

Hiding like criminals, we crouch under this straw heap
It’s the third day in a row that hungry we have to sleep
Mama with her sunken face looks so pale
And Daddy, oh, he seems to be dying as his health has begun to fail
Margaret sits quietly without an emotion on her impassive face 
While her little one, oblivious to the fear, has just started his life’s race

Suddenly, some footsteps make ominous sounds 
In an instant are my parents, Margaret and the little one gagged and bound 
I sit there, trembling, hidden from those brutes’ view
Silently saying in my heart all the prayers I knew
Loading their weapons, they take aim 
Of course, for them it’s nothing more than a catch-and-kill game
I see my parents and my sister dying before my eyes 
But I know I would meet a worse fate if raise my voice 
As for the then surviving little one
There was an even more horrific death than that by gun
He is battered mercilessly against the stony wall
Oh, why is God deaf to his pleading call?

Pity is a great word spelled with a capital ‘P’
But those beasts had no idea what it could be
It’s rightly said that God’s loved ones are few
Among them, my family wasn’t there, perhaps, because we were Jews….. 

Copyright © Navdeep Randhawa

Details | Verse | |

Land Of My Fathers

Arising, splits the purple nuclear sky,
Rends the dark valleys with light,
Spills along footpaths and alleys,
The glory of morning, ending of night.

In sanction, closing of the chaos,
Soothes the hot valves with dragon-heart balm,
Beams with serenity and salves,
In silvery moonlight, infinite calm.

Above, my ascendant sun and moon,
Arc-light searing and platinum white,
Adoration eternal and endearing,
My wondrous morning, my glorious sight.

The land of my fathers lays waiting,
Dispelling the lonely, the welcoming fields,
Whether industry savaged or verdant,
The hillsides of poets, their treasure she yields.

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | Verse | |

One Night In Greece

As the green-blue spread kissed horizon,
The sun died spilled on the rock,
So the crumbling salt-stained towers,
Of marble cracked rigid in shock.
Pointed fingers to clouds on Olympus,
To the old gods now centuries dead,
And their prayers and their desolate ceilings
Decayed as the heavens turned red.
The sweet juniper scents and then honey,
Flamed and bloomed dreams in the brain,
In the aniseed searing of midnight
I sat drunk at the bar once again...

Copyright © Tony Bush

Details | I do not know? | |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:

Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.

He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.

After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.

In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.

Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.

He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.

Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.

On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.

Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.

His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.

In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.

On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:

‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’

Mahlangu died for a cause!


The Struggle Continues…

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

South African Freedom Day

freedom day 
(april the 27th 1994)

far too many brave compatriots died


flooding rivers of tears were cried

far too many families ripped apart


daggers cutting into their heart

the pain is felt still deep today
on this glorious sun-splashed South African Freedom Day

as we pause and remember those who do not remain with us anymore

as we appreciate the fruits that their sacrifice and struggle bore

far too many to count and to name

but we honour them all while we keep burning that eternal flame

...Oliver Reginald Tambo
...Chris Hani
...Solomon Mahlangu
...Prakash Napier
...Yusuf Akhalwaya
...Matthew Goniwe
...Neil Aggett
,,,Ahmed Timol
...Vuyisile Mini
...Hector Peterson
...Babla Saloojee
...Bram Fischer
...Dulcie September
...Sparrow Mkonto

just a few, but so many still nameless

who were brutally cut down
by a racist system that was merciless, and cruelly shameless

we honour you, today
but we remember you each and every day

when we breathe in the air of the freedom that you craved

as we walk the roads of a wounded but healing country that you saved

from itself, for the hate and racism and hushed prejudice of race and gender and religion and sexual persuasion and caste and creed

that you so valiantly fought against, is still with us, as it on fear and ignorance does feed

the odour of racism and hate
of white and black and jew and muslim and hindu and catholic and yellow and brown

is a living parasite that lives and thrives all across this beautiful world, from cities and villages and hamlets, to the smallest rural town

it may become a mark of shame upon us all 

so we have to, today, struggle against and boldly fight

for the sacrifices of the many can never be cheapened, by the polite dinner-table murmurs of hate, try as hard as they might

for if we as a nation, 
a country 
a world 
a people 

one people

are to truly step out of the lashing cold painful rain

we have to continue your struggle

so that your supreme sacrifices may not have been in vain...

and so we say 

'hamba kahle, comrades'

to you who laid your young lives down and slipped away

so that we who remain may in the sunlight and out of the rain live and breathe and stay

in a country, and in a world
where religion and gender and sexual-persuasion and all colourful hues

may mingle and love and laugh and cry together on the sun-filled avenues

so thank you, comrades, for showing us a better path that we must embark on as we shuffle onwards into a brighter tomorrow

away from the hurt of the past, and away from the tears and away from all the sorrow

for the true freedom that we seek now, is the freedom from our own racism, our own prejudices, our own sexism, our own petty hates and bottled-up anger

for therein, lies the fight ahead

for therein, lies the real and growing danger.
Aluta Continua!
Amandla Ngawethu!

The Struggle Continues...

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Verse | |

Struggle for Freedom

Hopeless tears reign marks of 
followed by endless pain
The stigma "nigga" forever 
implanted in my DNA
From black face and sambo to 
mammy and sapphire
some still view us just the same
After years of struggle and 
Not a lot has changed 

They assume stupidity just by 
the tint of my face
and because it's brown, I'm 
a fool, a mistake
I'm the angry black woman 
roll my neck and put my fingers 
in your face
Or he's the one with the bad 
and a gun to shoot up the place
Or the welfare queen - all she 
do is get high
Oh and he's the one that fits 
the description of that black 

Still...Forever struggling for 
respect with no ideas
about what it's really like not to 
be automatically tagged 
So I stopped expecting miracles 
of blacking out racism
and continue the fight for 

Freedom from labels and 
Freedom from dumb ass black 
people who keep those 
stereotypes alive
Freedom from holds like hate 
and negative teachings and
Freedom from ourselves 
because some of us have 
stopped reaching
Some of us have given up the 
fight to be taken seriously
We've disgustingly lost our 
pride and our unity
We've decided to become 
enchanted with the stigma 
so it's embedded in our DNA
Attached to more than just my 
It's my soul that aches

The struggle for freedom will 
never end
Racism will never end
Until the end of existence as we 
know it
Get ready 
because all of the signs that it's 
Is showing 

Copyright © humble b

Details | Rhyme | |

Our Country's Soul Is Being Torn Apart

Our Country’s Soul Is Being “Torn Apart”

The very soul of America is being “torn apart.”
It’s a problem that’s striking at our very heart.

There’s a “blowing wind.”  A “time for change.”
As the country’s moral fabric is being “rearranged.”

As many question what the true meaning of life is for…
Many don’t seem to know what’s wrong or right anymore!

As so much pornography is allowed into our homes…
The moral decay is “eating” right at “the bones.”

Many have a hard time “defining what marriage is.”
So many are really “messed up” in how they live!

The news seems to be “fascinated” by man’s depravity…
Leaving a huge vacuum of a monstrous “moral cavity.”

Many who attend church want what’s
 “soothing to their ears.”
A God of holiness and righteousness
 is what they “fear!”

As we look around as to what our society is becoming…
God’s judgement is soon!  It is surely coming!

We must come back and leave all of our “false idols!”
We must come back to the God of the Bible!

Jesus must be our cord of love the forever binds!
It’s only in him can we find true love for our minds!

It’s only in Jesus that we can find a purpose and meaning!
It’s only in him that we need to put our
 trust and start believing!

He is and always will be the right choice to be taken…
Without him, our country’s is “doomed and forsaken.”

He brings healing and righteousness
“beneath his wings…
He is what we truly need!  

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Concrete | |

The 13th amendment

Footsteps heard from afar 
Caught in the glimpse of 
Strange shadows on walls,
the unknowable visor of 	
approaching men in uniform, 
wedged in the unbroken frames 
of those shadows;
Carrying their guns and arms,
They throw a basket of broken
Legs lost in the war, a dump yard
Of human remains

And there through the window
Struck by the very first sight
Are those pair of peeping eyes
That seek answers for all that is
Left and is yet to come,
They speak of all the pain
Felt in the anguish of the bygones,
A struggle to fight for
All that is fair and just, 
To level the men of his ‘breed’
One amongst many born unequal
They see affected patterns of color,
The raunchy division of scattered

In moments of solitariness, they
Look ahead into the future with a
Vision so pure; 
a utopian ideal it seems
To many of his kind, unachievable yet
Worth fighting for, for years
Of unsolicited beatings, they
Only wish to see a world of 
Equals, the world as a homogeneity of
Dark and blank pieces, 
Men of ‘his breed’ 
Stand up to wrong all the
Blank pieces covered in shadows
By the ‘darkness’ of their own
So a world without
Fear would be created for once,
The end of a gruesome chapter
And the beginning of a liberal one

Copyright © Ankita Dhawan

Details | Rhyme | |

This Memorial Day We Salute Our Veterans

We salute every soldier who’s
 served this great nation.
And offer a heart of thanks
 and appreciation!

We salute each member 
of our armed forces.
And are thankful for their
 efforts and resources!

We salute the many who 
protect our borders too.
We’d be in trouble…  
If not for people like YOU!

We salute every son and 
daughter lost in a war.
YOU are what serving this
 country is meant for!

We salute the officers who’ve 
guided our women and men.
Our prayers are with you!  
And our love from within!

We salute our veterans!  
Wherever they may be!
Those who served on
 land, air and sea!

Offering prayer to the
 Lord is our belief…
That he will guide our

As we observe 
Memorial Day this year…
Let’s offer our soldiers
 love, hope and cheer…

May God bless them in
 all they endeavor
And his peace be with them
 today and forever!!

By Jim Pemberton  

Copyright © Jim Pemberton