Mzansi Afrika

From Johannesburg South Africa, a window on the world

Monday, June 06, 2005

A poem

Let poets close their eyes

For the ghost of the third force
To wake us not from the comfort zones
Or for the atrocities of the koevoet
The crucifixion of dissent at quadro
And the miscarriage of people's power
Not to linger in the minds of the people
Let the past burry itself
And take memories of inkathagate and the codesa farce
With itself to the grave


For the armsgate to be
An issue no longer at your gate
Pour water on petrol and
Hunt apartheid spies to burn them on public stake
Yet exonerate corporate capital
From facing the music
For sucking workers' blood
In cahoots with apartheid-capital


For the travel gate
Not to open floodgates
Of inquiries into the transformation
Of former guerillas into gorillas
Feeding on struggle credentials
To feed on public funds
Instead of feeding the population


For the oil gate not be an eye opener
That corporate capital is the lock and key
Of the gates into political office
And for the people not to know
That the piper in parliament
Only plays the tune decided by the corporate masters
Let poets shut their mouths
And allow money and not conscience to do the talking


For the story of land plunder and the rape of cultures
To be purged from the pages of history books
Bring and end to history and let cultures clash
And civilizations crash and dissipate
On the ashes of the twin towers


For the Watergate to be bridge over troubled waters
Pour water on petrol and shift the focus overseas to
Export peace and prosperity with rockets
Simultaneously dropping down bombs and food parcels
For America to be oiled
Blood gulf oil and allow no scribe to ink pages of tabloids
With tears of village babies
Whose deaths have become statistics
To be tip-axed by the stroke of the pencil
And erased without the blink of an eye

poem by Mphutlane Bofelo

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