Unity

gifted hands

keep your eyes opened
sometimes gifted hands
are poisoned tongue
full of venomous propaganda
pity how gifted hands can disappoint
guilty of drinking from a poisoned chalice
suffering from the comfort of the mansion
under the control of glorified slavery
forgetting those picking cotton
in the sweltering heat of the plantation
pity how potential can disappoint
glorify slavery for a few minutes in the spotlight
ridicule ancestral pain
sometimes the tools of the system
look like me and you

Knox Mahlaba
Author -Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Copyright © 2015

‪#‎bencarson‬ ‪#‎trump‬ ‪#‎republicandebate‬ ‪#‎islamophobia‬ ‪#‎slavery‬ ‪#‎obama‬ ‪#‎hillaryclinton‬ #bencarsonforpresident

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cry wolf

The world is silent to my tears
Deaf to the plight of the voiceless
Blind to cries for help
When my voice loses its pitch
Decreases in volume
Drowned by the establishment
As I try to breathe
Gasp for a pint of air
Will you recognise my goat wails
My pleas for help from behind the veil of a choke hold
Should a strong uniformed arm over power me
Place my fragile neck in a vice grip
Will you document the proceedings
Just in case the surroundings decide to do me in
Should the most probable occur
Don’t look away
Place your recording on record
As my corpse is placed on trial
Castigated for my dress style
Persecuted because I wore a hoodie
Please highlight my side of the story
Or at the very least
Allow me to state my case in absentia
Tell ‘em I ain’t no thug
When the world ignores my cries
Trying to breath is no crime
Mistaken for resisting arrest
Tell ‘em I have ghetto mentality
I don’t do no fairy tales
I don’t play no cry wolf
I am dying

stars & stones

We so blessed
Our skin is the blueprint of our beauty
Resembling black gold
Smooth like crude oil
A back drop for gold
Oh my
We so blessed
Essence of beauty
A universal complexion
Dark skin
So beautiful
Our skin a solar panel
Absorbing the sun with ease
No wonder we warm hearted
We so blessed
Coffee coloured
Covered in melanin
Nature’s indulgence
Jet black
The colour of the gods
Onyx, Tourmaline, Obsidian
Gemstones
Lauren, Alek, Viola
Stars
Nature’s desire
A variety of black
Damn!
We so blessed

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

the spoor

my search continues
seeking mammals amongst reptiles
scavenging the hills for pretty words
looking for the comfort of fragile settings
beautiful landscapes
though thorns reside
side by side
with colourful flowers
leaving no stone unturned
scowering the terrain
searching for for people amongst the mainstream
kind hearted individuals
following the spoor
footprints left by my nomadic ancestors
like the Amazon i carry baggage
sediment from where i come from
a chequered past
a history rich with experiences
scar tissue from life’s lessons
heritage from chromosomes
forensic evidence of where my people come from
somewhere in Africa
deep in a forest
under a mound of rocks
lies my title deed

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

overseas

I leave my land
To live in a foreign land
Unlike my forebearers
I didn’t come here by ship
No shackles either
I flew here
Enticed by a scholarship
In search of knowledge
Intellectual capital
I leave my land
To live in faraway capitals
Lured by material
Entrenching a colonial path
Taught in an alien lingua franca
Forgetting language is a carrier of culture
Forgetting everywhere is overseas
I left my land
In search of an education
Only to return naked
Stripped of my perspective
My identity drowning in the oceans below
Am half the person I was before I left
Though I flew here
Like a free bird
I return with shackles in my mind
Like a caged bird

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

motherland

They plunge hers wares
Embroil her in their wars
Steal her jewels
Dishonor her name
Misrepresent her history
Little do they know
Material matters not to her
Despite their attempts to rape her soul
Separate her from her offspring
Little do they know
Her children matter most to her
Whether they adorn themselves with beads
Attire themselves with hoodies
Her children matter most to her
Black lives matter
No matter their location
Their pigmentation
A reminder of a mother’s love
Blessed with melanin
Africa is more than a landmass
She is a congregation of souls
A village filled with hope
Black men united
Sounds of blackness
Sisters with voices
She is a survivor
The voice of love
The face of humanity
A resemblance of the supernatural
Knox Mahlaba
Author – Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit
Copyright 2015