Best Shaka Poems


Testament

My father's abeng blew up my mother's womb
And I was chained there
Nine months in darkness drinking blood
Longing for my resurrection from the tomb
Longing to break the chains
Holding me before my birth to a carnal earth
Longing to stop him pounding
Pounding on the door of my bereft eternity
I carrying the weight of him already
The weight of them against the gravity
Of my life. My wings folded
Longing wield sword edge of flight against the sun
I burdened to undo what already is done
Have no finality here.

Look at me like an eagle flying in the sun
Blood dripping from my talons when the flight is done
O let me cleanse the world again
In the red flood that alters pain.

One day I was born screaming for a cause
I could not take kindly to tradition
Slapping black and blue a baby's **** ... laws
Must have been broken to beat the innocent
Unless it is a crime to come into this earth
To carry so much legacy
From maroon history to Jesus Christ, blacklisted
Like my my forebears: Shaka
Father of my grandfather's mother,
My other grandfather, Accompong warrior
Slain between the stones of Holland Estate and Mountain
Bridging the way for fleeing slaves
I come Cudjo less, Nanny less, merciless
Carrying on the war of generations
Calling no more for repatriation but reparation
Of human rights, human dignity, and racial sovereignty
Where Africa may find again its concord
Without false treaty and flimsy accord
Raping the Congo of natural resources and life
I come, the bushing through guinea grass
Tumbling kingdoms with wisdom and knife.
For this I was born, beaten at birth
Given resurrection from the night of earth.

My father sought to be civilize
Recite poems of Britannia's might and lies
And I, I was singing with the night
Reading a long history of pain to make write
Of my own proclamations, to declare
I shall not bend my knees, nor walk in fear
Where death measure us in dust
And vampires and conquistadores lust
For El Dorado buried in my disgust.
I am a man, and I will make my monument of truth
Upon the gravestone of the brute.
Categories: shaka, politicalme, history, me,
Form: Free verse

Uniwest

Uniwest
Perceived as crown from heavens, mini kingdom of isolated tribes. Its beauty is painted in the wall of beholders eyes. The story of ancient Biblical thoughts. Kingdom of named after stones. Mahikeng camp of jacks and jelly, chain of Gladiator, Bichua Italy land belong to Spartacus. Roman-jungle of miracle.

It’s Powerful and dictatorship is well known by its five kingdoms. Its status is spotted like United States Doll er-sin in every vision. Its mission is preaching keys that opens kingdom of paradise, Mount Kilimanjaro Glory of success.

Its five discipline disciple impregnate every prostitute found on its street, through martial arts. Exam constitute of justice and true. Power and selection of murder. Agle Janam Mohe  king of kings’ shaka to Zulu. Well protected like language Setswana. Uniwest; its kingdom have eleven department of prison.
Start with James entertainment, gift given to Lional messie. Ikanlha, Dr Mandela residence to Hopewell till lost in city prison. Jail of education as a mother of children who need guidance. Laws of success, numbering and commence is their daily bread while agricultural science and technology glorify their success bone with china.
Mortal salute your beauty, oh uniwest coronet. Your kingdom is spread with Fresh active juveniles of Adam and Eve pitch. Crowded bash, event of the year. Sasko bread at its best political success. “Cheese to new comers” Enjoy Full years of searching for key to you Final year to success. Let’s see life to our last journey speed like “Benz” car of a dream: speech from the next president. African boy, Benz I will drive at graduation parliament of Uniwest.
Categories: shaka, business, community, culture, education,
Form: Alliteration

The Mothers Cry

I am tired of seeing our mothers cry;
It’s painful to see their tears.
It’s been happening much too long,
Down through the years.

You don’t want us to chastise them,
Or beat them in our homes.
But you will chase them in the streets,
And shoot them; now they’re gone.

When will this madness stop;
What do we need to do.
To stop the law from shooting our children,
And cease pain we’re going through.

Many of our children are hardheaded;
Disrespectful and they talk back.
They are not the only ones like this,
Do you kill ours because they are black?

We are all profiled by one thing are another,
If shot; all of our blood is red.
When statistics and surveys are taken,
More of your blacks end up dead.

Yes I say they are yours,
Because you brought us here.
If maybe you had left us in our homeland,
No one would have to shed a tear.

But you crossed the ocean waters
Just to bring us to this land.
Because cleaning house and picking cotton;
Was a task for a stronger, hardworking and powerful man.

Now that we are here;
And through being used by you.
You can’t put us on a boat,
So shooting us is what you do.

There is a spirit that came with us,
And it came to destroy,
It did not come to bring unity,
But to take out every man, woman, girl and boy.

If you don’t want this spirit here,
You should have left us in our land.
Because before you went to Africa,
The black man was killing the black man.

Shaka Zulu is a great example,
Of what I am trying to say.
You should have cleaned your own house and picked your own cotton;
And left us in our way.

But since you came to get us, 
And that spirit came here too.
Beating us, shooting us, trying to take us out,
Will not stop what the spirit came to do.

We must come and unite together;
Repent and turn to God.
For only He can destroy that spirit,
Many people in America thinks this request is odd.

For they do not even believe,
That my God is real.
Yet if we turn from our sins trust His way;
Our hearts and land He will heal.

He will destroy the spirit,
That is destroying us.
If we have faith in God;
And truly live….In God We Trust.
Categories: shaka, africa, bereavement, culture, god,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Identity

At the silted banks of river Nile,
I'd sung to the glory of Lucy;
I'd soared high over the echoing Savanna
and fought and bled for Shaka Zulu.
I was first to push back abyss,
the last to be ripped away. I'll
return one day, I'll bring the rest.






------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 12 / 01 / 2016
Categories: shaka, africa, destiny, home, life,
Form: Kwansaba

Africa the Mausoleum of All

THE MAUSOLEUM OF ALL

Africa is the burial chamber of many,
Millions of men and women rested in peace,
The deepest hole full of important bones,
The bones of *****sapiens are in the graves.
 It is the cradle of humankind.

Africa the sepulcher of our ancestors,
“Rolihlahla Nelson Mandela, Emery Patrice
Lumumba, Julius Kambarage Mwalimu Nyerere,
Jomo Kenyatta, Kwame Nkrumah, Samora
Moises Mashel, and Prince Louis Rwagasore.”
Africa! The black coffin for all dies in Africa.

Africa the mausoleum of humanity,
I wish to be buried in Africa only,
The angels are walking free in Africa,
The guardians are guarding the graveyards
Day and night.

Africa! My last resting place, your burial place,
Our burial chamber
The last resting place of many kings:
“Shaka Zulu, Haile Sellasie, pharaohs, Samore
Toure, Mswati II, Tenkamenin, Mansa Musa,
Sundiata Keita, Oba Ewuare, Sonni Ali, Osei
Kofi Tutu, Sumanguru kante, Ngongo lutete,
And Ezana Axum.”

Africa! The mausoleum of many messenger-
Prophets:
“Isaiah Mloyiswa Mdliwamafa Shembe, Simon
Kimbangu, and Jean Mwambi Mulaya Kadima.”
You are our grave, oh Africa.
All will pass there.

By Alfonso II Warally. Chris
Categories: shaka, grandparents, grave, hero, memory,
Form: Free verse

Mother Africa

She is not just images of starving children with bellies bloated with air 
She is not just dry faces and tattered clothes with flies circling her hair 
She is not just voodoo priestesses 
drinking the blood of a fowl
She is not just heartless warmongers 
who shoot the innocent down 
She is not just an impoverished land consumed by HIV and AIDS
She is not just a late night TV ad
requesting 15 cents a day 
She is not just bare breasted mothers carrying infants across her back 
She is not just corrupted dictators 
and genocidal maniacs 
She is not just elongated necks
adorned with rings 
She is not just lip plates 
and other "unnatural things" 
She is not just steamy jungles 
overrun with apes 
She is not just shabby huts 
all in disarray 
She is not just Sarafina 
or the miniseries Roots 
She is not just hotel Rwanda
or Shaka Zulu
What she is, and will always be, 
is the mother of civilization,
creator of humanity.
Categories: shaka, africa, culture, race,
Form: Free verse


Confidential Bars

He said.....
I am Steve Biko..... With a fist; not pointed to the sky but rather aimed at your faced, you see it in the air, the power of a knockout artist...  the revolution will not be televised but felt with senseless missions to bring sense and consciousness as part of your movement.
I am Malcolm X...... fighting the race of time wasted on ******** and battles soon forgotten. 
I am thee most logic writer of this generation; poured wisdom of the past and Knowledge of the future, in a cup..... drank it and it formed an intellectual giant, call all the Davids you know to swing and try rock me down, I will still stand, for  I am not Goliath.... I am Big Foot.... the legend seen through mist of fictional reality, as he words leave traces of foot prints seen in books read by.....  
I am a creativity genius.
I’m the Charles Dwain of poetry  
I’m  Shaka Zulu and the pen is my spear
I control life with buttons; putting you on the roller coast of mental thoughts; up and down we will go through thrones, rocky, dangerous, sandy, iced paths; through the valleys of death; if you really want to reach Zion.....
Where intelligences is sound and ignorance is mute, and the voice is truth is seen......
 I  am the modern Moses; guiding you through the rough and smooth tours of life, all you have to do is read the 10 lettered  commandment scripted in my lyrics..... BE YOURSELF
 No magic, illusions, propaganda
I am not egotistical, not the best; I’m not the great......
I’m just the man you see when you look in the mirror..... I am the truth... which tells you that you.....
You are weak minded, strength it
You are nothing.... and you will always be nothing, if you never see yourself as something
Etc..... etc....
I am human too, I’m fragile, I bleed, I fell pain, I love, I hurt, I hate, I encourage, I discourage
I am........
He said all this through a glass, in an orange suit.......
He just like you is a prisoner of dreams lost....a prison of social perception....a prisoner of society

Lebron Spirits
Categories: shaka, addiction, analogy, anger, cry,
Form: Ballad

Who Am I

Who am I?

I am a lion who comes out as a goat
I am an ocean with waves big enough to drown
I am a child of Mesopotamia 
A descendant of Shaka Zulu
Baptized in the Nile
I depict the sword of Mansa Musa

I am the backbone of civilization
An icon of emancipation
I represent the pyramid of Giza
And the lighthouse of Alexandria
A symbol of hope 
And an emblem of freedom

I am a depiction of Chinua Achebe ink
An illustration of the hieroglyphic 
I am the carapace of Hannibal
And the shield of Tunka Manin
I am a player of the djembe
And the author of Sundiata Epic

I am an inheritor of Timbuktu 
A citizen of Kumbi-Saleh
A compadre to Askia Muhammed
And a son of Mansa Musa
A follower of Kwame Nkrumah
And a kinsman of Ahmet Sekou Toure

I am the native son of Gao
A fisherman of Lake Victoria
A Tuareg from the Sahara 
I hailed from the cradle of life
I am the black in Panther
And this is really who I am, A black man.
Categories: shaka, absence, adventure, africa, anger,
Form: Free verse

No To Xenophobia

HEAL THY SELF O WOUNDED AFRICA 
                (no to XENOPHOBIA).
      
Wake up a voice shouted 
You slept like a pregnant woman 
While the drum beat of my assagil sounds like trumpet 

With fear and deep chill I listened
The ghost of mighty black warrior standing in shiver
As I face the Great Zulu warrior lost in fear
I saw him Shaka cry to the members of Mambers the great Gods of Africa

There before him stands the Mighty Nile in disbelief 
With the Niger filled with bloods disagrees to stay calm 
The Senegal and the Congo revolted with flood
The orange and the Limpopo grumble and cried as the sky shared their pains with continuous rain pour. 
O you failed cried d Zambezi as she invades her neighbors with flood

A knock on my door I heard a voice shout
Speak out for Africa 
It is I Kwameh Nkrumah speaking 
This is a sacrilegious act echoed the Mighty Zik
When the house is not in order the cockroaches becomes violent 
Cried out the anguish voice of Awolowo
From afar I saw a running giant coming with the force of a chariot 

Then I heard a voice so mighty was it that the visitors chased it with fear
He a mighty figure decorated and protected by glory of stars
Stood there is burning eyes of anger 
Cover in the black glasses with general pride

As curious as a questionnaire 
I ventured in to the glorious illusionary scene 
Standing before my trembling eyes was The General Abacha in his full stature
Like a Ligtening spark the mighty figure bent his head in shame 
As I looked to behold who thou art
There before me I saw The Mighty Mandela in tears of betray

Weep no more thou wounded soul
The thunderous voice of King Sailaise shouted
In council with the great Ghaddafi as furious as 
Idi Amin
Sankara frowned like a disgraced old man 
While the ghost of Seda Sengho felt it lost its victories like Anthonio lost all his titles

In schock I turned as a firmed hand gently parted my hand 
It was a mighty spirit with two heads 
It is the heads of the great secretaries 
Achebe and Giwa
Handing me a pen a paper 
Written on it 
Heal thyself O Africa before yesterday bleed to death.
Categories: shaka, africa, betrayal, conflict, corruption,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Small Mercies

He holds his head and lifts his eyes to the sky
Where are you when i need you Lord.. Rama
He intones the creator in a strange tongue
Rama karama ye na shaka yo... Rama

He offers supplication in a strange tongue
Actually its as if the words are coming out 
From a well a cistern of his soul.. deep inside
He continues his supplication and in his minds eye

He exits the third heaven approaching the throne
The throne of mercy is unveiled and he enters
In worship he is dedicated and in prayer
He gains transcendence.. to the throne

We thank the Lord for small mercies and favor
We thank the Lord for the unveiling of the throne
The throne of mercy in the transcendental realm
We intone in worship thankful for small mercies




(His mercies are new each morning.. He is Jehovah Roi)
Categories: shaka, prayer, religion, religious, spiritual,
Form: Blank verse

Lugano

Life has brought a good friend
U're truly adored
God knew what i wanted
A love i truly longed for
Now as we lay
Ondoa shaka tupo pamoja.
Categories: shaka, friendship
Form: Free verse

Transcending Minds

I'm looking for a place where greater minds unite
where maybe I could kick back relax and examine Mandelas' plight

where maybe I could compare the theories of Socrates, to your thoughts
or to the thoughts of Plato

or we might just examine the creativity of Van Gogh or Michelangelo

we might want to think and try to sum up all that they said Pharaoh did
or we might want to imagine what the Queen of Sheba as a young princess did

and if time travel is cool with you let's go and chat with Einstein
and as I tie his shoes let's listen to his blues and find out what troubled such a great mind

before they light the torch let's see if we can find any innocence in Joan of Arcs'
eyes
powerful woman, full of ambition, I wouldn't be surprised

maybe we could travel and try to unravel the mysteries of Stonehenge
then find out from the Indians whats up with the circular graves

then maybe we could travel south in time via way of our minds and undo the mysteries of the pyramids

then find out from Shaka Zulu Warrior King why attitude was all his

as we transcend lets find out rom King Solomon when he first realized he was wise, he was deep

then i'd take the balm from that sinner girl and I'd wash my own Masters feet

and as Delilah cut Sampson's hair off after she put him to sleep, I swear one of his dread locks i'd keep

I need a mental massage y'all I need to stimulate my mind an all
I need to know that right here, right now, we're all of one kind you know

one love, one peace, that will never cease

I need you to kick some knowledge to me and I'll do the same back at you
I'm just an average black girl, but in this world my ego is black and blue
So heal me, feel me, but by all means keep it true
Poets, Queens, Warriors, and Kings

Agape Love to you.
Categories: shaka, africa, analogy,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Zulu

The tribe of tribes of South Africa
Lead by their king Shaka
1816 they formed their state
As they head into history
What be their fate
 
British Conflict, internal rife
13 kinglets loss of life
Rorke's Drift 1879
Mission manned, all was fine
 
British soldiers, African colonials
Squared up to the Zulu swell
Attack after attack, 
Murderous aggression
Who really won
This theatre session
 
KwaZulu homeland, now KwaZulu-Natal
Buthelizi, Inkatha political hell
Members of the above and the ANC
Fight amongst themselves
For the country they want free
 
This mighty tribe, over a century ago
Powerful and strong, as their neighbours would know
But in this modern world, as history has told
Another tribe no longer the bold.
Categories: shaka, angst, death, history, life,
Form: Rhyme

Confidential Bars

He said.....
I am Steve Biko..... With a fist; not pointed to the sky but rather aimed at your faced, you see it in the air, the power of a knockout artist...  the revolution will not be televised but felt with senseless missions to bring sense and consciousness as part of your movement.
I am Malcolm X...... fighting the race of time wasted on ******** and battles soon forgotten. 
I am thee most logic writer of this generation; poured wisdom of the past and Knowledge of the future, in a cup..... drank it and it formed an intellectual giant, call all the Davids you know to swing and try rock me down, I will still stand, for  I am not Goliath.... I am Big Foot.... the legend seen through mist of fictional reality, as he words leave traces of foot prints seen in books read by.....  
I am a creativity genius.
I’m the Charles Dwain of poetry  
I’m  Shaka Zulu and the pen is my spear
I control life with buttons; putting you on the roller coast of mental thoughts; up and down we will go through thrones, rocky, dangerous, sandy, iced paths; through the valleys of death; if you really want to reach Zion.....
Where intelligences is sound and ignorance is mute, and the voice is truth is seen......
 I  am the modern Moses; guiding you through the rough and smooth tours of life, all you have to do is read the 10 lettered  commandment scripted in my lyrics..... BE YOURSELF
 No magic, illusions, propaganda
I am not egotistical, not the best; I’m not the great......
I’m just the man you see when you look in the mirror..... I am the truth... which tells you that you.....
You are weak minded, strength it
You are nothing.... and you will always be nothing, if you never see yourself as something
Etc..... etc....
I am human too, I’m fragile, I bleed, I fell pain, I love, I hurt, I hate, I encourage, I discourage
I am........
He said all this through a glass, in an orange suit.......
He just like you is a prisoner of dreams lost....a prison of social perception....a prisoner of society

Lebron Spirits
Categories: shaka, addiction, analogy, anger, cry,
Form: Ballad

O Shaka

O Shaka, my father, my father, fallen
To perfidy of deception
My amputated glory
On the golden glow of autumn
My terminus and my rejection
O Shaka, great Zulu, warrior, chief
Momentous man of destiny
That rode her horse unsaddled
Why did you trust that half hearted brother
After they gospelled him
The missionaries in false feathers
Promised thrity pieces of unpaid silver
And never paid again
Neither forty acres or the mule 
I cannot measure you by mass of their myth and history
So that I do today
Have nothing to show my children but a tale
Your daughter, my father's grandmother
Like a crumpled paper of genealogy avails
Little for the glory of a throne
And the private wonder
Who throw the dice for man's fate
Who before my face
Closed the undiscovered gate?
Categories: shaka, holiday
Form: Free verse
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