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Thanksgiving Social Poems | Social Poems About Thanksgiving

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

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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!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




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


Details | Rhyme |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.


Details | I do not know? |

A Story My Mother Told Me

someone always told me this with tears in her eyes...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


a wife left South Africa in the 1960’s to join her husband 
who was in exile at the time...

in 1970 the husband was sent by the African National Congress to India to be its representative there...

the husband and wife spent two years in Bombay...

one afternoon the husband fell and broke his leg...

the wife knocked on their neighbour’s door, in an apartment complex in Bombay

the neighbour was an old Punjabi lady...

the wife asked the neighbour for a doctor to see to the injured husband...

a Parsi ‘Bone-Setter’ was promptly summoned...

the husband still recalls his anxiety of seeing ‘Bone-Setter’ written on the Parsi gentleman’s bag...

by the way, the ‘Bone-Setter’ worked his ancient craft and surprisingly for the husband, his broken leg healed quite soon...

but still on that day, while the ‘Bone-Setter’ was seeing to the husband...

the wife and the old Punjabi lady from next door got to talking about this and that and where these new Indian-looking wife and husband were from as their accents were clearly not local...

the wife told the elderly Punjabi lady that the husband worked for the African National Congress of South Africa and had left to serve the ANC from exile...

and that they had left their two children behind in South Africa and that they were now essentially political refugees...

the Punjabi lady broke down and wept uncontrollably...

she told the foreign woman that she too had had to leave her home in Lahore in 1947 and flee to India with only the clothes on her back when the partition of the subcontinent took place and Pakistan was formed and at a time when Hindus from Pakistan fled to India and vice versa...

the Punjabi lady then asked the foreign woman her name...

‘Zubeida’, but you can call me ‘Zubie’...

the Punjabi woman hugged Zubie some more, and the two women, seperated by age and geography, wept, sharing a shared pain...

the Punjabi woman told Zubie that she was her ‘sister’ from that day on, and that she felt that pain of exile and forced migration and what being a refugee felt like...

Zubie and her husband Mosie became the closest of friends with the Hindu Punjabi neighbours who were kicked out of Pakistan by Muslims...

then came the time for Mosie and Zubie to leave for Delhi where the African National Congress office was based...

the elderly Punjabi lady and Mosie and Zubie said their goodbyes...

a year or two later, the elderly Punjabi lady’s daughter Lata married Ravi Sethi and the couple moved to Delhi...

the elderly Punjabi lady called Zubie and told her that her daughter was coming to Delhi to live and that she had told Lata, her daughter that she had a ‘sister’ in Delhi...

Lata and Ravi Sethi then moved to Delhi...

This was in the mid-1970’s...

Lata and Zubie became the closest of friends and that bond stayed true, and stays true till today, though Zubie is no more, and the elderly Punjabi lady is no more...

the son and the husband still have a bond with Lata and Ravi Sethi...

a bond that was forged between Hindu and Muslim and between two continents across the barriers of creed and time...

a bond strong and resilient, forged by the pain and trauma of a shared experience...

and that is why, and I shall never stop believing this, that hope shines still, for with all the talk of this and of that, and of that and of this, there will always be a simple woman, somewhere, anywhere, who would take the ‘other’ in as a sister, a fellow human...

and that is why there will always be hope...
hope in the midst of this and of that and of that and of this...

hope...


(for Lata Sethi's late-mother, who was my mother’s ‘sister’ and who took us all into her heart, and for Lata and Ravi Sethi of Defence Colony, New Delhi)


Details | Rhyme |

Let's Praise the Lord

Let’s praise the Lord!
All you people of the land!
Let’s praise him with every
Instrument we have on hand!

Let’s shout praises to his
wonderful name!
A message of rejoicing,
we need to proclaim!

Let’s come before him,
with love from our hearts!
This is where a victorious
life really starts!

Let’s bring him our thanks
and appreciation!
And sing of his tender mercy
and wondrous salvation!

Let’s bring him a heart filled
With hope and cheer!
The coming of the lord,
is so very near!

We bless the father, the spirit
and son!
Through the blood of Jesus,
we have overcome!


By Jim Pemberton


Details | Haiku |

Halloween Haiku (for Linda-Marie the sweetheart of P.S.'s contest)

Halloween Haiku
(9.7.10)

Suburban parade:
A night to transform yourself,
and beg without shame.

Subsequent morning:
Pillowcases wear make up-
Wrappers and trinkets.

The Thanksgiving porch:
Mouth with one neglected tooth-
The jack-o-lantern.


Details | I do not know? |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.


Details | Rhyme |

This Thanksgiving Day


This Thanksgiving Day... During this time known as Thanksgiving Day. I hope you'll give thanks and pray. A prayer of thanks for everything God has given. He has blessed us in the way we've been livin'! Our country is blessed like no other. God has supplied our "bread and butter." He's given us the freedom, we've all enjoyed. Be thankful for your food, home and being employed. For those who've endured hardship... Thank God too! It's no secret how much he loves YOU! We find in the Bible... God clearly said; "I've never seen the righteous forsaken, Nor their children begging for bread." Thanks be to Jesus, for his love, mercy and grace. And for making my heart, "his special place." I am blessed and thankful to Jesus indeed. He's given me salvation and supplies my every need. I thank God for this special day in November. Thanksgiving is a day... I will always remember! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Blank verse |

Paragon Of Excellence

Here stands a fair beauty 
Queen with poise and 
Dignity.
The daughter of an 
Erudite,an erudite herself
One of the three central 
Spoke-persons in the 
Assembly of law-givers.
The defender of the 
Helpless,mother of the 
Motherless. As fearless as 
A lion,who dared the 
Gunners in power,time 
Had she spent in jail, 
Thrown in by the most 
Powerful.
One thought she would 
Cower down,yet more 
Resolute she became.
For stonewalls do not 
Make a prison make.
She still the people's 
Mouthpiece.
Champion of war on 
Gender in-equality,a 
Visionary leader,hope is 
Rekindled-hearts rejoice, 
Tears of joy pour freely as 
She mounts the podium 
Of power.


Details | I do not know? |

For our Father, Nelson Madiba Mandela

For our Father, Nelson 'Madiba' Mandela

you are our eternal inspiration

our hopes
our dreams
our conscience

you gave everything of yourself
so that we may live and love and laugh and dream and breathe the air of freedom, dignity and liberty

you lead us through the darkest days with your unshakeable principles and your belief in us

you brought peace and freedom to us

and when at times we felt all was lost

you stayed with us as a father would

you lent us your wisdom
and you chastised us too

and we are here today because of you
you stayed with us, Nelson Rolihlala 'Madiba' Mandela, through all the crests and valleys of our turbulent times

you stayed with us, father
today, we hope and pray and wish
that you, our father Madiba
stay with us still
stay with us, Madiba
stay with us...


Details | Rhyme |

This Thanksgiving Day


During this time known as Thanksgiving Day. I hope you'll give thanks and pray. A prayer of thanks for everything God has given. He has blessed us in the way we've been livin'! Our country is blessed like no other. God has supplied our "bread and butter." He's given us the freedom, we've all enjoyed. Be thankful for your food, home and being employed. For those who've endured hardship... Thank God too! It's no secret how much he loves YOU! We find in the Bible... God clearly said; "I've never seen the righteous forsaken, Nor their children begging for bread." Thanks be to Jesus, for his love, mercy and grace. And for making my heart, "his special place." I am blessed and thankful to Jesus indeed. He's given me salvation and supplies my every need. I thank God for this special day in November. Thanksgiving is a day... I will always remember! By Jim Pemberton


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