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Funeral Native American Poems | Native American Poems About Funeral

These Funeral Native American poems are examples of Native American poems about Funeral. These are the best examples of Funeral Native American poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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 | Free verse |

death

Time fell fast 
Things became hard
Worries were vast
Lives begain scared

Hopes endlessly hidden
All things seemed forbidden
Days filled with darkness
Lives consumed and left sparkless

Awaiting the doom
Sitting only in gloom
Heaven wept
No souls were kept


Details | Than-Bauk |

Under Ground Cities

A man walks into a new generation gangster town,
there were guns, amoe, drugs, explosives, and allot of bad people, and that's all he found. 
He looked around the streets and saw allot of African American people running the show,
he walks into one corridor and into another city, and he welcomed the flow.

The new city, to him it wasn't any different than the one he just came out from, there were Muslims,
they wore gold chains and hiphop music was playing every where, the mostly dealt cocaine, and said fuk them.
there women were so beautiful, they would walk around in heals and panties were ever they went,
the man walked though all the gorgeous women and thought to him self, "no I can't". 

The man walks into a new city, he walked into "The Slums" it was the hardest and the baddest outlaws of the nations,
the man looked around and right away he did not like what he saw there, everything was dirty and without and patience. 
He couldn't wait to get out of there, the women were nasty and smelled like they haven't showered in years,
The man put his head down and started walking out of the slums with nothing in his eyes but tears.

The man walked into "Siberia" Everyone living there saw the man come in and they all rushed to great him,
at first the man got a little scared, but than he saw there smiles, so he smiled back at them. 
Everyone was living there was dancing to a death mettle Hip Hop music, while drinking and sniffing cocaine with a gun on there sides,
The man walks to the bar while looking at all the beautiful women that are dancing and giving him a sexy look.
Than the BOSS of the city comes up to him, pores him a drink and tells him how he is the BOSS of the whole West Coast, 
the man looked at him and smiled, he put his hand around the boss, looked at everyone around and said, "Let's Toast".


Details | Bio |

2012 Confession

Have you ever been in a situation when it feels like everyone is against you, and the whole world is pressing down on your shoulders? Well this write is about that. 


There is no place to run or hide,
The pain and the agony builds up like a tide.
I want to scream but nothing would come out,
I try so hard a pull so tough that I dragged a gout. 

It's not easy for me to express my feelings just to anyone,
There is allot of security issues in me that are not so fun.
I understand everything clearly,
I just wish to get out of this world and be care free.

It feels like chains have bounded me to the fiery deaths of hell,
It hurt and burns, but I can't break though this shell.
I have hidden my emotions deep inside,
Just so that no one would see the monster I have to reside. 

It hurts me more than other to see myself turn into something that I am not,
I would commit crimes and other illegal thing and would not get caught.
I would hurt myself emotionally so that no one would see my scares,
It would be better is I would just go back behind bars.

Can no one see that I am also human and need some effection. 
Or am I just a toy that people like to mess around with and Be selfish. 
At breaking point I stand, looking at the bottom of a cliff thinking,
Should I, or should I not?

But hay, if I do, I am sure that everyone would be left at peace and care for YOU.


Details | Sonnet |

THE RESTING

         THE RESTING
Our death of soul steals slowly through the years
the fog of mind that's never known to be;
brought on by laughter, love, and hate and tears
the fate of all no one can ever see.

It brings the withering of life, and all its leaves,
once green and shining in the morning sun,
now setting on it all, in evening grieves
for lack of interest in what life has done.

Compassion leaves the mind, once fired and prime
and old and tired now beats the heart we knew
life now mundaned by passing of all time,
there's little left the heart would like to do.

     Old one, you're numbered to your final breath.
      Your rest is not until it's done in death.


Details | I do not know? |

Remembering Him

I can’t pay attention,
They have deprived me of my perception.
My nose hurts, my eyes are sore and my frown is painful.
In a room of people who never knew him.
So sadly only I’ve seen him in eighth grade.
I was the M.C. at his graduation.
He ran up to the mic. He thanked for the award.
“Thank you”, he said.
Everyday in my mixed grade class,
He would sometimes make everyone laugh.
I wasn’t close to him, but knew enough
From seeing him and his crew everyday.