Colonialism Poems

The UK has blood on its hands

Slavery solidified the UK's place in the world 
Earning recognition, power and control 
The foundation of its empire 
Built by slave labour

Stolen wealth sat in their banks
Invisible blood covers every coin and note
Hard earned black money
Given to the rich, white and upper class society
Spending our wealth
On buying more slaves
So they can sit and roll around

The Wild One

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

Yankee Go Home!!

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!

World War Iii

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

Apotheosis

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

Resilient Earth Culture

Individual monotheistic health
hungers for
and, 
in regenerating return,
gratefully feeds 
polytheistic
polycultural
polypathic
polyphonic
polyvagal
neuro-social wealth.

Happy Mashujaa Day

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

African Child

Blessed beyond boundaries and bounties,

 African child grew on sapphire and emerald,

The spark of Gold riddled our sights under the smiling sun

And pure fountain rolled with aquatic children beneath green grasses.


Big fleet branched and called for surrender ,

 Gun powder scattered our peace asunder,

They told you about us,
 
 You believed and you were deceived.

I

Favouritism Part 2

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

History Is a Wind Up Doll

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

The Insatiable White Creatures

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

They Didn'T Leave

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

Daddy Dreams

Strange dreams last night
include gathering enthusiastic consumers
to shepherd and possibly own
cheaply decaying properties,
ghettoes of hopelessness,
ungodliness.

And, later,
an all male bacchanal
of real estate agents,
toned agencies for commercial acquisition,
surrounded by witnessing properties
of no sensory interest 
to any realtime guy,
straight or gay
or in-between.

Gathered to teach their purchasers' desire
and demise
while getting naked
in a boorishly unsexy way,
while dispassionately watching
in time's eternal

Elusive Fate of Africa

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

Holy Windstorm

These are post-revolutionary gay '20s,
without pre-revolutionary SpeakEasies,
replaced with ListenHard
to global climates of LeftBrain dominant despair.

Margaret Meade encourages
invites
urges small winds
assembled in privatized circles,
yet still dreaming of love's great evolving liberty,
winning healthy democracy
to win wealthy economies
to win resilient ecology
to win resonant polypathic theology,

To remember
small compassioned groups
are the only Holy Winds
to ever have started cultural revolutions
more matriarchal,
less patriarchal,
more

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