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If I sang you a song
A song from your hymn book
Wrote mindless lyrics
A summer anthem
Pretended all was well
Became an ostrich
Like the rest of you
A parrot of the status quo
Aped mainstream society
You’d love me
Throw panties on stage
Download my music
Purchase my books
Follow me on social media
Stay glued to my reality show
Lucky me
If I learnt to shut up
Grew big fat ass
Entertained plastic surgery
Bleached my beautiful Nubian skin
Danced like I was on the moon
Altered my mind set
Betrayed my conscience like rap
I’d be a star
Walk the red carpet
Pity I am not interested
So keep your façade
For I am a child of hip hop
A movement of consciousness
Reaching out to a glorious history
Toiling for a greater future
Cos my red carpet is a glorious path
Colored with the blood of loud mouths like myself
People who chose to speak their minds
Educated niggers
Smart natives
Who irked the comfort of the powers that be
Died for the cause
Maybe they’ll send me to the gallows
Like Solomon Mahlangu
Send me a parcel bomb
Like Bheki Mlangeni
Or a drive-by
Hit me on the drive way like Medgar Evers
Or I could fall at the hands of a Judas
Like Sankara
Cos they always get one of us to get to us
If you sell out
How much is the price of your conscience
Just enough to buy you pseudo comfort
Tell them to pay you in gold bars
Cos the Dollar is paper money
Tell them I’ll be waiting my turn
Doing my best to meet that fateful day
When it’s my turn to water the tree of freedom
Like too many to mention
People whose names were written on bullets
Better to die a better man
Like Sobukwe
Cos when I look at Tiger
Jordan, Kobe
Mr Money himself
I see a dearth in talent
Better to be enslaved against your will
Some are slaves of the almighty dollar
Investing in the enslavement of their people
I yearn for the greatest of all time
Abdul Kareem Jabaar, Muhammad Ali
Superstars from another galaxy
Icons who left a legacy
Champions of our struggle
Who never forgot their people on their way up
Principles have no price

knox mahlaba
Author – Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Copyright © 2015

7 Poems Our Youth Should Hear And Discuss


poetry blog

Poetry. One of my first loves. When done properly, it is one of the most effective  vehicles for deconstructing illusion and misinformation. It admonishes, scolds, sympathizes redefines and interrogates knowledge and understanding.

Our youth have poetry just like prior generations did. The most popular and accessible form is Hip Hop music. Less popular but possibly more compelling is what we refer to as “Spoken Word Poetry.” In honor of Amiri Baraka the great Black poet, intellectual, activist, I present 7 poems Black youth should hear and discuss in an effort to deprogram themselves from the inundation of nonsense graciously provided by those who devalue them.

1.” I Am The System” – Prentice Powell. Brilliantly and creatively performed poem in which “The System” speaks to Black people exposing how it deceives, exploits and oppresses us.

2. “Imagine” -Black Ice. A critical portrait of life for Black youth in America contrasted with how…

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Embattled Brazilian coach says he feels Afro-Brazilian because of the beatings he takes! Movimento Negro repudiates his comment as Brazil’s National Team disappoints again

Black Women Of Brazil

capaNote from BW of Brazil: The fall from grace is often very painful. Brazil has been known as the country of the “beautiful game” since winning three of four World Cup titles between the years 1958 and 1970. But since its last World Cup victory in 2002, the Cup’s only five-time champion has seen a hard fall with the three straight disappointments in 2006, 2010 and 2014, the last of which the country spent billions on as the tournament’s host. Last year, after the loss of superstar Neymar due to an injury he sustained from a controversial collision with a Colombia player, Brazil’s shortcomings on the pitch could longer be hidden by the will and talent of their only certified superstar. The seleção (national team) was humiliated in the team’s worst defeat in its history at the hands of the eventual winner, Germany, and then went on to lose the runner…

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black christmas


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i’ll never forget
running from school
shoes in hand
hippos roaming the dusty streets
soweto up in flames
teargas in the air
i’ll never forget
the anger of the students
the fears of the parents
the hope of the struggle
though i never threw a stone
i certainly did my part
comprehending the necessity
for a black christmas
i did my part
nurturing my afro
raising my fist in defiance
saluting the power of the people
black power
soweto riots
call it what you may
when black consciousness
planted hope
defeating a complex
i’ll never forget
steve bantu biko
victims of hippos
in the township
and on the border
i’ll never forget….

knox mahlaba
Author – Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Copyright © 2015



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As Africans we need to start looking within for solutions and stop doubting our existence and perspective. Our spirituality did not arise through contact with foreigners but arose from our deeper consciousness!

knox mahlaba