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Poems On / About MURDER  7/22/2014 2:19:53 AM
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  293.     

From pools of blood

From pools of blood bushes, trees
and aloes grow in the veldt
where British soldiers
fired on my countrymen
and some bayoneted them.

Concentration camps where twenty thousand
women and children died without dignity
at the hand of foreigners,
who claimed to be fellow Christians
are now covered with grass
and that past are being blotted out
as if the misery, the indignity,
the mass murder
never happened
and great Queen Victoria
is still dignified

and still I hold Great Britain responsible
for the murder of my great grand mother,
for the destruction
of my great grand father’s farm,
for the seizure
of my other great grand father’s property,
for sending him to St. Helena
as a prisoner of war,
for invading my country
for making profit from the minerals
and the quarter Scotsman in me
together with my three quarters Afrikaner parts
forever wants to be free
from the enslavement
which that foreign nation brought.


[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
 
Gert Strydom

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  294.     

My Prison of Visions

Another bomb explodes, bodies far and wide;
The concussion spreads, resembling a tide.

These terrorist, murderers they are, soldiers not;
Targeting the young, old, murder they plot.

These visions I have seen, imprison my mind;
In a world of evil, the pits of mankind.

Where children are slain, used for their purity;
Terrorist know the good, saving the young is surety.

The prison that holds my mind is hell;
Where the evil call home, long they dwell.

This prison was created, by the sons of the devil;
Terrorist who seek many deaths, organized to bedevil.

They murder their own, who just seek peace;
They only want a vote, of who shall police.

Over and over, I see it, over and over;
People mowed down by this concussion.
 
Joe Moore

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  295.     

bLoodlEss tHIngs

furnished is ear any beyond dead
world squeals skin and bone die
anything leaf through worship fine
this fabricated universe sweet standing pale
where to alone fades love gassragged and rare
and motionless silence dared
could sing to above
miraculous razorblade love
doodles figit scarring books and poems
and dreams and unseemingly things
scribbles dot dot scribble drone
the sky falls out through your telephone
marching a faceless stride
blots of WAR abbreviate unfounded pride
scribbles dot dot scribble drone
the worldly world raggedly alone
clumsy miracles fist first leap thrown
into ENORMOUS dying immortal loans
murdering wilt and drowning dizzy tones
oblivious>
hideous luminous howish dones
and a million whispering white suns
singing to a million breathinglessly lungs
rugged shadows damned they humm
rugged shadows hide damned in the sun
murdering music
they sing unsung
death dies patiently
and drunken;

the sky is reborn

(4\18\01)
 
dale garris

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  296.     

Goka And Five Others

Tossed to and fro with my mind,
One father to all to share a view;
But murder she wrote on this love.

The moment of grief and the moment of love,
And of their bodies in blankets without DNA test;
For we are now greeted by the ghost of our past!

Godwin Mawuli Dra Goka,
Yaw Brefo Berko,
Kojo Kyeremeh Djan,
Samuel Charles Aforo,
And Richard Charles Koomson;
Murder she wrote but,
The killers are still living among us.

Goka and five others,
In miniature coffins were their names inscribed on!
And this is the monument of my grief at last.
 
Edward Kofi Louis

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