Best Soweto Poems
the rainbow is out now,
I saw it this morning on my way to school
the rainbow our heroes of old died fighting for
died believing for
died praying for
died hoping for
it is out now, I see it in that school bus painted Black and White and Indian by its passengers
I see it, you can see it too mother just open your eyes and sight beyond the obvious
see it in that black child eating a samosa over there
oh the beauty of its splendored colors.
I see it, you can see it too brother just open your eyes and see beyond the nose:
see it over that white soul walking the streets of Soweto freely
I see it, its splendor like a flower garden in the sky
I see it on that public toilet with no inscription: “whites only”
I see it: you can see it too father in the faces of the so called “born frees”
I see it in the tongue of that Indian man speaking Zulu
see it too buddy? On that black dude sharing a rugby field
i see the rainbow wonderfully engineered by the selfless life of
Nelson Mandela
Walter Sisulu
Ahmed Kathreda
more like painted stars in the sky but only in the skins of a people-a rainbow natio
Categories:
soweto, africa, black african american,
Form:
ABC
Aluta continua
Was that word another message replaced
And the room spun dark as web
The tree no longer walks the night
The bush is silent on the veld
Madiba has passed the lion sleeping
Has left the fruit falling
Has left the children walking by the light
Of stars
Like Biko, telling him to come
And the women crying in Soweto
Azania like a long shadow falling
On our frozen consciousness:
The great man is free at last.
This freedom is a new kind without a new to come
Dawning on the memory of the world -
I stood for a minute when I heard
Broken again in my silence
By the subtle return of my chain
Of mortality, suffering under that brutal heel
And could not shake this death out of me
All of us dying eternally -
For the wages they paid, the pittance
That could not feed us
For twenty seven years of fragments
That reduces a man’s life to bandages of accolades
Madiba is gone
And I will not say farewell to a struggle that wears
Out a man, but will not retire itself.
It was a long sleep, comrade
But we will wake again, we wake
To the consciousness of your absence
That we must dig the hole for you
And plant the legacy tree of your courage
Inside the village of tomorrow.
Tired, I would sleep too, I would lay
Down and dream of Fidel outside Pretoria
That my chains are only cloth
And my dreams are balls of fire
Too far away, too futile
Twenty seven years of anger, where I
Shoot and die, another star like Biko
We all are dead long before you left
I knew that when I stood
For a minute silence and did not breathe.
Categories:
soweto, death,
Form:
Elegy
The Blood of Youth
16 June
sad tune
visible blood
visible flood
our beloved were killed
we need to be healed
an oppression
discrimination
the Soweto uprising
the Soweto protesting
so sad
so bad
when pain was against students
when tears were on their parents
many students died
indeed parents cried
so sad
so bad
things were very horrible
all was really so terrible
June 16
hear our cry
lest we die
because of apartheid
lack of help, lack of aid
students died
parents cried.
Drencho POET Loads.
Categories:
soweto, violence,
Form:
Narrative
Hey!
are
you
a
Zulu?
Am
a
Bushman...no
you
are
a
Bantu,a
Bantu
or
Hottentots?
Maybe
an
Afrikaner.
I
came
from
the
Cape
Colony...not
from
Soweto
where"balck
animals"are
Dwelling,
pathetic
Creatures
formed
by
the
Hands
of
Hades.
Beast
of
burden
for
the
Afrikaner.
Bound
with
fetters
and
Chains,it
ploughs
the
Field,cultivates
and
plants
The
seed
of
sedition..alas!
These
beasts
un-
wind
their
yokes;to
be
human.
Can
a
leopard
change
its
Spots?
Yes
these
animals
Prophesied.
Lo!
what
do
I
now
see?
No
Beast
of
burden
to
till
our
Land
rather
they
dwell
Among
us.
Alas!
their
prophecy
lives!
Categories:
soweto, hate, inspiration, inspirational, satire,
Form:
Prose Poetry
A Comrade like Ben
A statesman like Mandela diplomatically
suspended the necessary struggle of opposites,
gummed his fragmented land together with reconciliation….
exploiters to exploited , murderers to martyrs
imperialist to invisibled indigenes
lives in Sandton and councils Bill Clinton
and Naomi Campbell on plush carpets
a sinewy activist, hard as nails, like yourself…
Ben Palmer Louw, always
cajoling
conspiring
criticizing
organising
uprising
forever
beautiful in your pregnant concern
that freedom , dignity and justice
is tangible and beautiful as black skin, kinky hair
is real when a continent’s wealth is fairly shared
is manifested when the state collapses in selfless deeds
old man Nelson turned ninety and is now a teddy
to those who feared the terrorist at forty.
He no longer speak for himself but for his party
and the party is a self-serving affair.
Pity your death at thirty-something
when Nelson started talking to his racist oppressors.
For ten years you and your young militant army
punctured holes in the racist ideology,
marched flames and thunder through townships,
died in your thousands,
stopping with blood and bones
bullets casted for centuries by the fascist
in black holes of greed and fear.
“A shame … but subversion is to blame ”
`` the defenders of law and order loudly exclaimed
“Not good for business”…the moneybags conceded
“ if Soweto bleeds , profit –rates receeds . ”
“Give black chiefs and compradors the garrotte
and stick the small change of capital under their nose .
They will throttle the radical noises at the root ”.
Wounded deeply, your rapid-firing baritone voice
still thundered on battle-fields and in halls,
urging us to destroy mental and wage slavery.
I saw you fight for freedom
the whole scorching way,
every hour of that long bloody apartheid day…
but one night
you leaped ,
proud black brother of mine,
right into the sky…
fist raised high as heaven with a two-hour smile
whispering re-assuringly “Don’t ever give up, gents…
the harder they come , the harder they fall.
See… brothers and sisters…revolution is!
In memory and respect to Ben Palmer Louw (1950-1987)a student leader of 1976 soweto insurrection
Categories:
soweto, history, inspirational, loss, political,
Form:
Elegy
Let me play you violin
I hope you will dance
Don't mind how to begin
Till you loose all steps into trance
And wonder if you've been therein
I don't mind if it hurts
My fingers and my back
What if I got some concerts
Won't I keep oiling to avoid setback
And complimenting the overall efforts
Zero stress, keep calm
Let down the foes watching
To laugh steps long embalm
Tagged "SU dance" somehow gauche
Explode surprise into their mind bomb
Be at the top
Supply the tap
Fresh water behind
Running ever nonstop
Till standing ovation clap
And your fountain is enshrined
Rinse the pot
Set in each potato
At the reach of intense fire
Burning down chemical's dot
For all invited guests in-out Soweto
Before all to their dear houses retire
Happy birthday dear
Thrill the amusing thriller
And watch the wonder with cheer
For all cool teases to become chiller
As you await nice experiences of coming year
CHEERS! ?? ??
Categories:
soweto, africa, art, birthday, celebration,
Form:
Rhyme
From the “jungles” of Soweto
To the “lakes” of Kalahari
Come!
Let us adopt grey children
Call them Mogadishu or Benghazi.
Donate your second hand underwear
To the west
Stand up! Let’s go
Attack undemocratic countries
Beyond the Mediterranean
Let us go monitor
Their elections and
Determine who wins or just
Declare rebels the rightful
Leaders of a country.
Let us go buy some humans
From across the Atlantic,
Chain them and make them
Work on our plantations.
If not, let’s go buy land in the isles
Start up banks in that land
And make the Afro world currency
Let us hold
Charity walks for sick
Hollywood stars
Along the streets of New York
Also rear goats as Pets
And hold tomato fights at Buckingham palace.
Categories:
soweto, social, symbolism, vanity, world,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Hey blokes…do you really know what life is…?
Like living in the ghetto…any memories of Soweto…?
Maybe you can’t…make me a chant…
Yes…I know…because I grow…
In the streets…where my feet…
Would meet…the dead…and the underfed…
Where food variety was scarcity…like living is atrocity…
Where poverty…like a sin…makes u thin…wary and dreary…
Like soldiers in Iraq…on the attack…from Sunnis, and Shiites…
But have to fight…with all might…not knowing when…it will end…
The audacity of hope…or is it dope…the scope…?
The choices have limits…gods dam it…just give it…
Sufferation...infection…addiction…
Prostitutions…institutions of frustration…
Thugs…drug…bugs…some hugs…
Shoots…loots…rapes…some escapes…
Prison walls…jails calls…sleepless nights…fights…would frights…
When police…with sirens…is the signal…to stay in…
The guns…the cries…the lives lost…can you tell me the cost…?
From ashes to ashes, dust to dust…my homie…it does get foamy…
His blood…on the curve…it shatters…my nerve…
And so is my faith…will I await…my date…?
With history…which often seem like a mystery…
Is revenge the only consolation…as reflected in the penal conditions…?
What did I do mate…hate…?
My will was to kill...but still…any adrenalin fills…?
The crack…no lack…of stack…
To execute the mission…what is the decision…?
Snorts…gets torn apart…
This homie…he knows me…from birth …
The same school…the rule…from my parents…and his…
Live and let live…learn to share…and care…like boys…with toys…
Remember Slomy…he was before me…
Lock away…everyday…in handcuffs…
It’s tough…the stuff…in my hand…no contraband…
It’s a weapon…it’s loaded…it’s heavy…like my heart…
Beating…competing…a life…to take…
Whilst he dies…I awake…the stake…
It is high…why…?
He’s gone…am I a pawn…or a victim…of the system…?
What will be the gain…only hurt…and pain…?
While my memories linger…what was the real rearranger…?
Of my destiny…does it sit next to me…?
And what is your view of the danger…stranger…?
Categories:
soweto, analogy, anger, appreciation, change,
Form:
ABC
How long shall we try to convince her to see the truth?
How long would she pretend, when the truth sits in-between her breast cursed?
Deception and lies she fed her children but she hypocritically crave for peace in the midst of injustice
She is an adulterous who slept with corruption, tribalism, nepotism and soiled her white garment on the day of marriage to truth
At the dawn of her great tribulation, she clandestinely assembled all her bravest children i.e. Nkrumah, Haile Selassie, Lumumba, Kenyatta and lied to them about how corruption, tribalism and nepotism of the white man raped her of her virginity
They started an uprising with burning flame of emancipation in their hearts because they were willing to shed their blood for the pride of their deceptive mother i.e. Africa
I felt thunderous roars from Cairo to Soweto that broke the cord between mastery and slavery
The awaken of a lost history
Restoration of a broken dynasty
The nations ruled on the moral fiber of love and unity
Their own hailed them but their own also murdered their dreams because they stood for something that was more powerful than blood diamonds, oils, and dictatorship i.e. the truth and serving humanity
Wipe away your tears for there is no reason to love and fight for Africa; when tyrants like Mugabe, Al-Bashir, Museveni, Biya, Eduardo Dos Santos, Obiang Nguema are stealing and oppressing their own
Oh! No truth for her
No truth for Africa
BY: KOJO POET
Categories:
soweto, black african american, children,
Form:
Children of Xenophobia
Children eating bullets and firecrackers
Beggars of smile and laughter
Silent corpses sleeping away fertile dreams
Povo* chanting new nude wretched slogans
Overstayed exiles eating beetroot and African potato
Abortions and condoms batteries charging the lives of nannies and maids
Children of barefoot afternoons and uncondomized nights
Sweat chiselling the rock of your endurance
The heart of Soweto, Harare, Darfur, Bamako still beating like drums
Violence fumigating peace from this earth.
Kinder der Xenophobie
Kinder, die Kugeln und Feuerwerkskörper essen
Bettler von Lächeln und Lachen
Stille Körper die fruchtbare Träume wegschlafen
Povo* die neue nackte elende Slogans singen
Zu lang wegbleibende Exilierte die Rote Beete essen und Afrikanische Kartoffeln
Abtreibungen & Kondome Batterien die die Leben von Kinder- und Dienstmädchen aufladen
Kinder barfüßiger Nachmittage und kondomloser Nächte
Schweiß der den Fels deiner Ausdauer meißelt
Das Herz von Soweto, Harare, Darfur, Bamako schlägt noch wie Trommeln
Gewalt die Frieden wegräuchert von dieser Erde.
Translator's note:
* “the povo (the 'people' - referring to the low-income majority)” – This definition was offered in 1994. Cf. “[...] it has been frequently asserted that the access of the povo (the 'people'. - referring to the low-income majority) to the University of Zimbabwe has improved .” (Paul Bennell and Mkhululi Ncube, “A University for the Povo? The Socio-Economic Background of African University Students in Zimbabwe Since Independence”, in: Journal of Southern African Studies, Vol. 20, No. 4, Dec. 1994, pp. 587-601. – A skeptical asssessment of povo is offered by an apologist of the West who asserts that “the Povo masses are not attuned to the western format of democracy.” (Charles W. Duke, Zimbabwe: The Land That Weeps. Yeadon, Leeds, West Yorkshire : Best Books Online/ Mediaworld PR Ltd., 2003, p.83.)
Categories:
soweto, abuse, addiction, africa, allegory,
Form:
Free verse
Storm rages brimestones from ages to ages.
The earth quakes from its foundation,flakes of hell erupts from the depths beneath.
Seed of discord blossom
In the very cord of the society as nightfalls in soweto forestalls the dawning of a new era.
Blaming mankind's curiosity or nature's complexity.
This is my first attempt on couplet,critics are welcome to air their minds.
Categories:
soweto, change, conflict, environment, imagery,
Form:
Couplet
Used to be a happy go around…later shrouded in frowns…?
For many a birth places…what are the shades of their faces…?
A log of many a cases…where are the words of their paces…
Memories of a ghetto…not in Soweto…
But it is located in Jamaica…some call it ‘Jah Mek Yah’…
Right there in Kingston…where the 70’s ‘kill some’…
With smears of being all poor…what is there to adore…?
Is there any glowing in their growing…or is it a constant lowing that is flowing…?
Incense of some violence…at times very intense…
Why question from whence…the condition of your fence…
Some work for minimum wage…till their children comes of age…
Some may try a ‘hustle’…amid times of a real tussle…
A school is the real tool…not to be classified a fool…
How many took the opportunity…was it there in its entirety…?
Expectations are low…within the underlying glow…
If you noted some highs…many people might accuse you of lies…
But what about some doctors…what are the determinations of their characters…?
What says of the lawyers…any semblance to Tom Sawyers…?
The list of engineers…worthy of professional scares…?
What of other professionals…would you question their rationales…?
What do you expect…outcasts in select…?
To put it in context…a myriad of rejects…?
Like some ‘Shotters’…what are their real matters…?
The diary of their jotters…to splatters…the brain of ‘ratters’…?
What of the common people…any conclusions from their STEEPLE…?
A ‘transfer’ will be good for him; or her survival…are there many a rivals...?
Through Western Union…is this the symbolic source of a reunion…?
Or through Money Gram…is it the lamb within a damn…?
Within the spacing of the land…are there any sightings of bland…?
Good gods of Moses…will their limitations exposes…?
Can they escape the brand…is there any magic in their wand…?
Within the society…what are the flavours of our notoriety…?
You are not from ‘uptown’…will I make you a frown…?
What’s the expectation of your game…any flame; or is it plain lame…?
Like ‘boys in the hood’…can you ever come good…?
Questions to a faction…what’s the typical reaction…?
Will you move beyond the seeming limits of your scope…?
Or will you condemn yourself to the notion of no hope…?
Jones Town…it once was my playground…
Categories:
soweto, memory, , western,
Form:
ABC
Goodbye, Grand Warrior of Mveso
Of Qunu, of Transkei, of Soweto
Grand Warrior of Rivonia and Robben Island
Goodbye, Grand Warrior of Azania, of Africa
Fare thee well, beloved icon of the World
Fare thee well, resilient Madiba
I speak not with anger though I ought to
I speak not with bitterness though I should
These you banished, Grand Warrior
When you embraced humanity and hope
You battled anger, bitterness and vengeance
You won peace, truth and freedom
And you won Africa and the World
Grand Warrior, you won them all
You won me over, too, Madiba
For while you were on the Isle
Frozen in time and space
Anger and vengeance we embraced
Where are our people? (Silence)
What have you done to our people? (Silence)
Where is the justice for our people? (Silence)
Can silence answer me? (Silence)
What’s that you say? What?
And again they responded with silence.
Why, we asked, why this impunity?
Why pretend to be a Nation
A Nation, that is, without a State?
Was that not, we asked ourselves,
What you were prepared to die for?
What you were frozen in time and space for?
So, anger we seized, arms outstretched
And stoked the fire of vengeance, yes
Many were the casualties, as you know
And much blood was shed and limbs broken
As witness the myriad battles and battlefronts
That turned South Africa into a war zone
Then finally and triumphantly, Grand Warrior
You and the thousands that were incarcerated
For giving voice or limb to our cause
Returned home, Grand Warrior,
As free men and women of a Nation
In need of a leader and a Vision
(Please continue to Page 2)
Categories:
soweto, tribute,
Form:
Free verse
P.O.E.m 2013
I.
---
Pretoria isn't far from Soweto yet
Earth's curve still hid each from the other
As blind eyes denied the other's pride
Colored only, European only - apartheid
Eradicated, chance for understanding
Only blood and bombs could determine
***** and white would kill or unite
Events can tangent to unexpected turns
And lead down paths we wouldn't bet
Reconciliation became a possibility as
The village elder Tata gently guided
Hatred and fear toward a new Peace On Earth
II.
---
Pennies rattle to the bottom of the pot
Each time someone tosses their change in
Assets casually or hopefully tossed aside
Cash-n-carry with bags of Christmas pride
Eager to get home to cook up a hot dinner
Only Eunice stands stoic in place
Nary a passerby looks at her face
Eunice has been there for twelve seasons now
And tonight is no different because snow changes to
Rain and then tapers to a west-blown wind
To her, it's the heart that owns the spirit and
Her "Happy Holidays" bell rings of Peace On Earth
III.
---
Punching pink nose through the slight snow
Early on the cold winter's morning
As dark Lapis sky grades to brighter dawn blues
Creatures peer from slumbering hideaways as
Earth slowly rotates them toward old Sol
Oak of red, Aspen of white or Spruced up
Needles greening under the dry-snow branches
Each and every snow-crystal glistens prisms
All colors, all directions - all is quiet
Rabbits, squirrels, and other fur-creatures
Together with many birds come to witness that
Humans are absent from this Peace On Earth
© Goode Guy 2013-12-12
Categories:
soweto, christmas, earth, peace,
Form:
Acrostic
AFRICA’S PUBERTY
When puberty sets in,
The wind feels good on
A little leg and thigh,
Some belly button
And budding bottom.
Tattooed dames,
Sexily renamed
From Elizabeth
And Isabelle,
To Lizzy
And Bella,
Storm into the world;
Boobs growing as fast as hearts
To be squeezed and broken.
Carrying heads of baskets
Filled with liquid counsel,
Speeding off on the fast lane
On the high way to remorse,
Surely to crash home
On the streets of Accra Ghana
Or the ghettos of old town Bamenda
Like those of downtown Soweto
As teenage mothers
Or as daughters of prophets
With gowns and scarfs
Over their scars.
Palms raised in supplication
For husbands of any sort
For whom they know
They will never bear kids.
Categories:
soweto, woman, youth,
Form:
Blank verse