A Poem by Andre Izaaks: Iron Hand

Iron Hand by Andre Izaaks
(Mariental, Namibia)

Disgruntled, dismayed in hopeless despair
Surefooted the mob makes its way.
Disowned by the masters who now run the town
The struggle kids have something to say.

Destination; a bacon-strip of red, black and blue
The party some say you can trust
The demonstrators beg to differ somehow
'Said they've been treated unjust.

Suddenly they're there;
Batons, clubs, the boys in blue
There to keep the order
An old instruction, nothing new.

The kids though are restless
Fed-up with the status quo
The Force draws live ammo
Suddenly all gung-ho.

Pandemonium ensues
Both sides at full blast
Going at each other
Onlookers stand aghast.

Amidst the chaos and mayhem
A casualty, someone said,
Behold, when the dust had settled
One of the struggling lay dead.

A commission of inquiry
Walters is tasked to probe
The police shrugged shoulders
Been playing rope-a-dope.

The verdict is scathing
Beyond belief almost
Struggle kid Frieda
Was shot dead by a ghost.

Disappointed,
Justice perceived disjointed
Reviews suddenly not rave
What will be the saving grace for her children
In the land of the brave?

© André Izaaks 2015

This poem was published by Book Buddy Namibia with permission granted by Andre Izaaks of Mariental, southern Namibia, with whom sole copyright rests. This poem was published on this platform subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, published, plagiarised or otherwise circulated without Andre Izaaks' prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on subsequent readers and digital consumers.

For comments and inquiries: andreizaaks@gmail.com

Comments

Children's Story: The Sleepy Owl (Zulu Folklore)

Zulu-speaking people ( Amazulu ) belong to one of the largest cultural and linguistic groups in southern Africa. There are an estimated 12,5 million Zulu-speakers currently thriving in South Africa, Lesotho, Zimbabwe, Swaziland, Malawi, Botswana and Mocambique with the largest concentration of people in South Africa (approximately 10,5 million). The word iZulu means 'heaven' and the word zulu means 'rain', if translated into English (Amazulu means 'rain people'). The Amazulu is not a homogenous group of people and consists of different clans who had settled in the mountainous and hilly rural areas of northern KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa. This cultural and linguistic group is patrilineal and had migrated in a southerly direction along the eastern coast of Africa from the 9th century onward. According to notable archaeological finds, they initially came from an area in modern Cameroon. The largest of these clans was established by Zulu kaMalandela around 170

Poem: I Am An African by Professor Wayne Visser

I Am An African I am an African Not because I was born there But because my heart beats with Africa's I am an African Not because my skin is black But because my mind is engaged by Africa I am an African Not because I live on its soil But because my soul is at home in Africa When Africa weeps for her children My cheeks are stained with tears When Africa honours her elders My head is bowed in respect When Africa mourns for her victims My hands are joined in prayer When Africa celebrates her triumphs My feet are alive with dancing I am an African For her blue skies take my breath away And my hope for the future is bright I am an African For her people greet me as family And teach me the meaning of community I am an African For her wildness quenches my spirit And brings me closer to the source of life When the music of Africa beats in the wind My blood pulses to its rhythm And I become the essence of sound When the

Book Review: Being Chris Hani's Daughter by Lindiwe Hani and Melinda Ferguson

'I guess the best place to start a story is at the beginning. My name is Lindiwe Hani. I was born on 27 December 1980 to Limpho and Martin Thembisile Hani. My father was also known as Chris. My parents named me Lindiwe, which in isiXhosa means ''the daughter we have waited for''. In that year, a leap year, the world's population sat at 4 434 682 000, the Voyager 1 space probe confirmed the existence of a moon of Saturn that was to be named Janus (or Janusz) - how's that for prophetic - and Robert Mugabe was elected president of Zimbabwe.' It took me a day and some to get over reading Lindiwe Hani's autobiography, Being Chris Hani's Daughter , because I desperately wanted to hang on to the fuzzy feeling of being a confidant to its brave author that developed as I read the book. This is precisely why some biographies are pure magic. They take the reader behind the scenes of major socio-political events and in the process, create a sense of t

BrightLights@BookBuddy

Search This Blog