Marching dead (In response to Singing fools by Don Mattera)

Crimes committed disguised as political battles
An overuse of racism in the realm of freedom
What Uhuru? A countless voting cows waiting in line
For a command to shoot whatever that breaths and breeds
Non conformism


They want us to kneel before their slander
They want us to surrender to their Mob justice
They preach reconciliation while they teach racial hatred
Young man, ticking bombs waiting for orders in frustration

Their tongues so sweet, such that they have made us confuse
The sweetness of Uhuru, with the bitterness of being sell-outs
They cannot command us as they are waiting for their orders
From Washington, least they are brutally removed from posts of glorious messiahs

Our minds are continuously spring cleaned with myths that even
Greek mythologist would not have imagined
Have you seen how weary their eyes were in the middle of a storm in a tear cup?
They had pointed their spears ready to vomit
Their Venom is like the carrion vultures’.

I hide behind my computer
Knowing that there is a single soul that will heed my call
To sing in unison against Economic Slaves of my land
Double extra-large is the size of their average MPs
As they are scornfully fed poisonous ideals

Singing Fools (Don Mattera)

The mockery of fondest love
And exhibitions of peace
Behind private dinner halls
Must crushed for the lie the perpetuate at the altar of Uhuru

There can be no peace
Nor genuine love
While our minds are policed
Homes raided
Leaders jailed
And our sons and daughters murdered

O where are the minstrels now,
Those complaint clowns
Who jest while scarvengers tear at our eyes
To trace the soul of our rebellion

Where am I
That I may shout defiance
Emerging from the hidden furnace of my spirit
Calling an aggrieved people towards rebirth
And insurrection
Against these nocturnal beasts
Who guard our dreams
And command our poems
To kneel before their guns.

Hell

To a sinner it is pure repayment of the deeds
It is what heaven is to a saint
The ultimate price one pays for having conspired
To have his people enslaved
Captured
Tortured
And often starved to death

Hellish flames the only language Seth understands
An illusion that Crusaders keep the world under its spell
Once we overcome that there is no one to hold us back anymore
As we stand ready to march towards a free future
Free from fear
And free from consuming their deceit.

Sobukwe (by Don matera)

On his death

It was our suffering
and our tears
that nourished and kept him alive
their law that killed him

Let no dirges be sung
no shrines be raised
to burden his memory
sages such as he
need no tombstones
to speak their fame

Lay him down on a high mountain
that he may look
on the land he loved
the nation for which he died

Men feared the fire of his soul

Ikrexe

Akukho nto ilikrexe
Athi amadoda ehamba enkomponi
Kukhale izitixo krixi
Athi obephangele afike lingaphambili
Athi ebeyokukrexeza afike selikhona

Aloneli linetliziyo ende
Alithandwa ngamanye amadoda linezothe
Litya amanye amadoda izithende

Yinto ongasoze uyazi nokuba ichanwe phi
Kuba bonke abafazi bamadoda asenkomponi ngabayo

Bekumele sithini kuba inja nenja ifela ebunjeni bayo.
Kambe ke irhuqwa ngumniniyo
Sitsho siphumle elalini, atyebe amadoda

Kuba kaloku umshologu umnkile
Ombelwe owona umngxuma mkhulu,
onzulu khona ukuza asokole nangovuko lwabafileyo