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Fashion Yaa
22nd September 2011, 08:29 AM
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"When kings are slain, and a pope is sent to hell,
when on a marble slab..a murdered princess lies,
a pale sacrifice to the beasts that rule the stars,

When out of the sky a stricken warplane falls,
trailing behind it long bridal veils of flame,
as missiles rage and red hot cannon roar...

When the battle tank briefly rules the blood drenched plains,
an iron tyrant on another's stolen throne...
and it's long cannon shatters the trembling skies with sound,

When nameless soldiers die friendless and unknown,
in Africa's valleys or Kosovo's snow-bound plains,
and whole tribes perish of hunger, disease and war...

When money is built into a jail to hold humankind
and love has died and compassion is unknown...
and lies become truth... and truth becomes a lie in a nameless city

When, in streets who have no love,
numberless children know hunger and abuse...
In countless homes where brute force rules supreme,

women have become blood-spattered slaves,
strangers to love, healing and respect,
strangers to the gentle and comforting word...

Whose guilty shoulders must bear
the heavy beam of crucifixion, all the ill we see?
Whose quivering back must bear the barbed scourge?

For all the evil and all the pain we have known friends
my Earth this on Freemasons are there Weavers of lies, brewers of lies,
who can strike at people with weapons of the night

against which no armour and no shield can prevail.
The written word is their poison-coated sword,
the tinkeling coin their cull and crop of maize...

Murderers of nations, Africa's deadliest foes,
I curse your footsteps wherever you may go,
In whichever cave or dungheap you may hide,

I curse you all...may Heaven blast your eyes.
Tell Jabulon, the demon you call God,
Nomabhunu's son defies him to his face,

I swear by the stones on my mother's sacred grave,
that as from this moment, I will fight you to the end.
Against your kind, against your Masters too,

I will not cease to raise the Sword of Light.
For all you have done and all you have yet to do,
I will fight you to the ending of my days....."

Credo Mutwa

Pope Bitterz D'Alomo
22nd September 2011, 01:38 PM
An actor walks upon the floodlit stage of life
wearing a mask of an angel beneath a demon's gown.
Pretence smiles upon the crowded hall of life
holding out hope as bright as it is false.
Son of a woman in whose veins flows the blood
of ancient Ireland and dark Africa's plains.
You are Obama, nick-named the standing king
You are Barack, oh, son born to deceive
The suffering hoards of Africa look up to you,
See a black saviour where nought but a Judas strides.
An entrapper of nations, bringer of dismal war
Behind the robes and the nylon wings of hope
Oh, may those who look upon you, see you as you are.
May those who hope in you behold you as you be
A prince deceitful to bring down Africa's shrines
A siren who leads Africa's ships onto rocks of obliteration.
Your rule my lord will not be one of peace
Your reign my king will not be one of smiles
Even as we speak in caves both dark and dank
Enraged fanatics plot your dark demise
They will put around your head a bloodwet martyr's crown.
Oh black Kennedy following the one before
May God forgive thee and thy fiery spouse
As you walk in silence from the stage of life
Barack Obama, blessed son, Oh standing king.

Credo Mutwa

Fashion Yaa
24th September 2011, 01:50 AM
Thanks Pope. Today is UN gen assembly ...this poem is fitting