a body on a table in middle of Gaza
shaft of golden light pierced apex
from Heart Centre grew a beanstalk
onto which InnerChild ascended
saw white sails of boats in blue-green ocean
they took our homes away ~
Dr j marion sims
The 'so-called' father of gynecology
Built of the lie of ethics
Built from harvested black bodies
No permission, just 'science'
An excuse just to abuse black women -
Treated as 'experiments'
To him we were never human beings
Just a new toy to play with
No anaesthesia, just pain
His work wasn't revolutionary - it was just inhumane
Does he really deserve the honour of being labelled as a 'father' -
When behind closed doors he abused his 'children' who gave him that name
Pushed them out of the door
Then slammed it in their face
No thank you, no gratitude, no rewards
Just a lifetime of scars and trauma
Treated like a disgrace
Treated the enslaved as if they weren't apart of the human race
They didn't just invade our lands -
They colonised our bodies
Dissected us like a scientific study
No consent, no permission
Just a scalpel to cut our skin
Not even out of curiosity
Just to beat the 'competition'
He was known as the father of gynecology
But in reality -
Many of us will see him as the father of stolen autonomy
Treating our bodies like property
Studying us as if he were learning archaeology
Out comes the storm
In a galloping parade
Of silver and iron
Honour masking the greed of men
In the rattling and dim wilderness
The rituals and the songs
Are ready to be extinguished
By those who rule over gods
And then a fatal sob
Pierces through the still ether
And the keepsakes of ages
Are washed away in a river the colour of blood
- A paradise is lost
And she dashed out of that darkness
Leaving behind her potions
And the archeology of knowledge
Clotted with blood of the wise and the heathen
Sacrificed onto an unfaithful god
On top of a sun-brimming temple
But the men came for her
As they always do
Filled with lust and rage
Gnawing, ripping, mutilating
That dark sacred flesh
Discarded on the wet ground
And she strode deeper and deeper
The wild one of her tribe
With only traces of echoes
Of the only voices she had known
But there are no voices here
They remain only as effigies
On dirty marble of the victors
- Silencio.
Greenland will be our posh winterland plaza
Blueprints unfold for a Riviera Gaza
Just hot air baloneyism
Or old-fashioned colonialism?
Panamanians shout leave! Viva la Raza!
We have had nightmarish experiences,
Of fighting two worst world wars already.
Both wars involved military alliances
Between different groups of countries.
The first one was fought against colonialism;
The second was due to ideological differences.
Though, the methods of warfare were different,
In these wars, millions of people lost their lives.
Yet, we haven’t learnt any lessons from them.
A critical phase, now the world is passing through;
Based on religions and regions nations are divided.
For silly reasons, one country hates the other,
One nation occupies the territories of others.
For selfish motives, one intimidates the other,
Cooperation and coordination, they know not.
Proper friendly relations, they maintain not;
Exhibiting nuclear power, one threatens the other.
Today, the world is on the verge of World War three.
It’s time to stand united and fight against wars,
For the welfare and survival of our future humanity.
Life is nothing but learning good lessons,
From our past irreversible bad experiences.
Maybe
It’s best
Or maybe it’s better to believe
God wishes
To spread His spirit
Like dandelion seed to wind
Where it lands
It should stay
Resist the story of Ham
Embrace Eve
Mission not
In masts of ships or cannons shots
Nor with whips, coins, crowns, holy books, fighter jets
Or in a noose of love
Allow
The flower
To settle with its own face
To root and sow in a fertile place
Bloom in heart
Take shape with all its local smells and colors
A bouquet just for you.
Individual monotheistic health
hungers for
and,
in regenerating return,
gratefully feeds
polytheistic
polycultural
polypathic
polyphonic
polyvagal
neuro-social wealth.
To all the freedom fighters who fought,
We say thank you for bringing us into light,
Today we honour you for being independent,
Freedom is the greatest accomplishment,
You made us live in a peaceful environment.
We remember you as we bask in the sun,
For you fought with an arrow and not a gun,
Working hard until the whites were overrun,
Spending nights in cold forests and mountain,
Teaching us to be one 'n' united as black skin.
You live in our hearts and remain heroes,
They used submarines but you used canoes,
In the forest you're attacked by mosquitoes,
You had no doctors to treat your sicknesses,
And you chose freedom over your families.
©Kelmwa
African Child
Blessed beyond bounties and boundaries,
By the love of Mama Nature,
Drinking from her nursing breasts,
Like a drunkard.
I rested on sapphire and emerald,
Dug from the pit of Paradise.
The golden noon dazzled my sight
Beneath a smiling sun.
I strolled along the riverside,
Watching maidens mirror the lushness of mermaids.
Casting my hook,
Trying to catch a fish.
The first gunshot demystified my godliness,
From the barrels of Western scavengers
Who scattered our peace
With acid from their brazen mouths.
I am not corrosive,
As some of you believe.
I rose from the charred remains
Of Nebuchadnezzar's flames.
It has been two thousand brutal years.You have gone too far
Without tasting the human in me.
Till we meet again in solemn silence,
I will tell you
How forgiving I am.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie
The last poem I submitted here, perhaps in February 2021, can be misunderstood by careless readers. I may be wrong in wanting to sometimes offer pithy poems. If readers are not familiar with the darker races of the global village, and how they achieved independence from European and US colonial rule, they miss the many nuances.
In that last poem I also showed my ignorance and knee-jerk reactions in the youthful days in my native South Africa, by "hating favoritism and 'FAVOURites' in public discourse." Now that I am an evangelist, Pentecostal, I teach how to remain in God's grace and favour - by relying on Jesus' finished work on the Cross of Calvary. It is both imputed righteousness and imputed favour one enjoys as a believer in Jesus and the efficacy of His blood sacrifice for sinners since Adam and Eve.
Fighting apartheid, hating privilege:
Having "favorites" (?) - thus hating Favor
Until Jesus THE WORD showed me
Anoints His children, any color
we are puppets
and
we are paintings of puppets past
historic yet breathing
living but not alive
we are dancing upon your no mans land
and we are spinning to the melody of the tears our mothers shed
upon the same
no mans land
history is a wind up doll
history repeats itself
like the hiss of a broken music box
the sound
the clamour is silent
but the white noise that rises from the ashes of our mothers cry is
deafening
past is prologue
our tongues are tied
chained to the rhythm of
breaking through but not breaking free
our hearts are sinking in the trenches of yesterday
our minds are reaching for the scraps of tomorrow
and we are still
spinning
but we are spinning into focus
our smiles are wilting
our eyes are gathering dust
our war paint is fading
our war is over
because we were never really at war with you, puppeteer
because you too are a puppet
of many puppets
of many puppets
of many puppets
of many
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night,
They came, greedy and insatiable white creatures,
Cloaked in prim pretense,
Every curve of their features seemed to express a fine arrogant acrimony and harsh truculence.
Expectation darkened into anxiety,
A thousand unutterable fears bore irresistible despotism over our thoughts,
Men, ladies and children collapsed into a dreary and hysterical depression,
Leaving us drowned in the deep reticence of the colonial sea.
As arbitrary as a cyclone and as killing as a pestilence,
With a sweet voice caroling like a gold-caged nightingale,
They looted our abundant resources,
And abolished many of our African customs and traditions.
They enslaved us!
Underdeveloped us!
And reduced us to nothing.
Gleams of sunlight, bewildered like ourselves, struggled, surprised, through the mist and disappeared,
Half choked by a rising paroxysm of rage,
The hollow ring of their fundamental nothingness were defined,
With the blood in our eyes, matchets, bows and arrows and diplomacy,
Then the fight and chase began!
We should have let them stay,
Since they brought Christianity,
formal education and civilization.
We should have let them stay,
Even though they made away with African valuables such as gold, ivory, rubber, palm oil, wood, cotton, artifacts, etc.
We should have let them stay,
Even though the reason for their mission was for slave trade and cheap labour.
We should have let them stay,
As able-bodied Africans were amassed to the European tobacco plantations by force, deceit or exchange.
We should have let them stay,
Even though they saw Africans as barbaric and uncivilized;
And considered African culture as inferior to their own and therefore needed to be replaced.
But it hurts so deep like a knife,
That they left but still controls the politics and economy our country.
Six decades after the slavers were gone
Came along the dragon
With fire to melt our mineral ore, trees to chop
And heat for a sweatshop
Politicians shake hands with eyes closed, as few hands get oiled
So they build the castles, as the majority poor toil
Nothing to show in the 21st century
A homeland is no longer a sanctuary
There is a death toll at shores of the Mediterranean sea
If we are not filling up forms for green visa lottery
It started on D - flat,
succulent & succinct
soft & rhythmic
loaning hearts pats.
the wail of the piano
caressing the voices' glissando
riffs tampered with the tune,
notes trailing tracks of crest,
demisemiquaver pruned
by the demigod crochet:
parts of belts
accompanying baritone,
baroque & tormenting bass
nursing decrescendo,
an atlas
And then clef,
embellishing the melody,
encore spill the best,
swift fortemente
Hearts lured,
esophagus of the musician
shifting. Pure
steps moving in pleasure,
as the lyrics complimented
the melody
A coda:
a flat accompaniment
severed the passion
as the keys & notes did melt
tumult in rhythm,
sundry languages inflected
the lyrics.
like concerto grosso
of courante on
bagpipes, accordion,
harps, obeos & paino.
now we're stuck
in the maze of this music,
no virtuoso could make meaning of
the tune, lyrics or melody
but we're moving our bodies,
till those that gets weary
goes to hear death's string.
19:09:22:18:47
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