OUR history begins before we are born. We represent the hereditary influences of our race, and our ancestors virtually live in us.
quote by James Nasmyth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Tell Me Of Your Australian History
You tell me of your Australian history your ancestors were British and Irish pioneers
But your history in this Land is not an old history just two centuries and twenty years
And in time that may seem quite a long span though the combined life spans of three people nothing more
Your ancestors hardly were Aussies they came here from a distant shore.
The first Australians have lived in this Country for longer than most care to know
Their ancestors came here from Asia more than sixty thousand years ago
They are indigenous to this Country all others have links to elsewhere
Yet they still struggle for recognition and that to me seems quite unfair.
Dispossessed by the Northern invaders they never did get back their Land
And that they are now ruled by white people I find that hard to understand
You talk of the history of this Land as if it were only two hundred years old
But then suppose the history of the ancient Dreamtime by white people will never be told.
I was not even born in this Country which makes you more Aussie than I
And though I'm not Nationalistic or Patriotic my heritage I won''t deny
You talk of your pioneering ancestors but why talk of Human history at all
If the history of the first Australians you do not see fit to recall.
You tell me of your pioneering ancestors but one fact you tend to ignore
That they were not born in this Country they came here from a foreign shore
You''d swear by you the Human history of this Land was only two centuries old
But the true history of this great Country by your type will never be told
poem by Francis Duggan
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Black History
Boom, boom, boom!
That was in 1530 to the Slave Trade;
My Mama told me so,
My Papa told me so,
In the name of our ancestors gone by;
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for powder,
Slaves for hardware,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! !
All over the West Coast of Africa!
Today, i am a Blackman to tell you a story.
Black History, the Black African, the Black Race;
Of my ancestors gone by,
Boom, boom, boom!
Black head, black sugar, black coffee;
Where are the true identities of the Blacks?
That was in 1530 to the Slave trade.
Black History, black love;
A Black Race to a call.
Tap your fingers and do think about it,
My Mama told me so;
Bllack shoes, black phones;
With the Black History gone too soon,
My Papa told me so.
Black hair, black eyes;
The black coal to steam up the engines!
In the name of my ancestors gone by;
But, where are the black pens of love to share?
Do think about this and learn from it,
Boom, boom, boom!
A Blackman in the house to tell us a story;
Where is William Wilberforce?
Where is Thomas Buxton?
Where is Granville Sharp?
What about the Slaves? !
These men need to tell us more;
They killed my ancestors softly without compensations!
Black love, black stream, a black home to live in;
Like 'Naughty By Nature',
I've got 'Queen Latifah' to tell us more.
Of the Black Songs,
Of the Black race,
With a Black-Limo to keep us going;
This Slave Trade was a Black History to us all.
Boom, boom, boom!
Do contact Africa to learn more from this;
Like a black bird, a black cat and the black fingers! !
Do contact Africa to see things for yourselves.
Oh Blackman,
When are they going to admit to what they did?
Like a Black Ninja in the house,
Do know your history before you destroy yourselves.
Boom, boom, boom!
The very sound of the Slaves marching on;
This is our colour and, we have to respect it.
Black Cop, Black Soldier;
A Black Marine to a call,
We still have more to learn from each other.
Black wine, Black Doctor, Black People;
Know all about your history.
About where you came from and,
Where you are today;
Black seed, black marble, Black Prophets!
We still have more to learn.
Slaves for arms,
Slaves for hardware,
Slavces for powder,
Slaves for spirits;
Boom, boom, boom! ! !
Black beauty, black sea, black pot;
Black Nurse, black melody, black stamp;
Know your history always.
Of the freed Slaves from England to Sierra Leone,
With those from America to Liberia! ! ! !
Today the Black Panther is here to stay like,
The Black Writer.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Today You Guys Are Just Going To Have To Wait
At times I feel,
I provoke the ghosts...
Of my ancestors.
Especially when I know,
I am not at my best!
And rest I'd rather get.
Than to impress with those gifts,
From which I did get,
As a result of my ancestors blood and sweat.
Never did I wish,
To sit...
In the taking for granted,
Of those I represent and miss.
But I do admit,
A feeling I provoke...
The wishes of my ancestors.
Those ghosts within me that make visits.
Awaiting impatiently to do...
Not what I want.
But what they insist!
'Today you guys are just going to have to wait,
And sit.
I am tired.
I need rest.
And rest I am going to get! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This record has a lot of influences that I'd love to cover, like Marvin Gaye and Earth, Wind and Fire. Maybe I'll do some covers of my major influences during my live show.
quote by Jon Secada
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kept Integrity
I remember early in my expressions as a writer,
I was told I did not represent my plantation roots.
I didn't depict those sufferings,
My ancestors experienced in the fields...
As they plotted to set themselves free from slavery.
Well...
All Black folks weren't shackled and chained.
Quite a few Africans sailed the seas with the Chinese,
Long before claims were made and history re-written...
By the 'others' who say to have discovered what they didn't.
I come from a long line of pioneers.
And there is nothing in my heritage,
That keeps me tied to paying an annual homage...
To being oppressed and grateful,
While I address this on a daily basis.
As I display a disrespect for myself.
And express a lack of identity.
None of my ancestors,
Would have never allowed me to reflect...
That kind of ignorance.
They may have been tricked and deceived,
To abandon their palaces and kingdoms...
But a kept integrity will never be diminished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Child Of Febuary
Sweet beautiful intelligent divine being
Created by two hearts with lost souls
Combined in one body
Care was taken to take and place your heart into it
A soul born by society
Raised in hellish half-ways or half of a home
Not knowing where your history began
The future pathways you would take were set clear
By others of lighter color
But you chose different
You walked right with your two left feet
On shards of glass you tiptoed
In muddy waters you swam
Like your ancestors in the 1800's before slavery was slammed
You sped through stop signs
And race riots and sit-ins
Speeding pass 100
And jumped into the public pool
That was once a colored pool
Screamed at the top of your lungs in the school library on Malcolm's birthday
While ripping up history books
Cause what the white man took
Cannot be sealed in a history book
Of chapters 13 and 14
Or in an annual parade
Cause what's in your heart wasn't made to be celebrated in just February
poem by Zainab AbdulMalik
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The book begins and ends with the visits to give the impression of a tunnel into their ancestors and family history. I believe in going backwards into the past - I felt I was digging a tunnel back to the past.
quote by Anita Desai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Bush Begins to Speak
They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.
poem by Henry Lawson
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As If A Needed Must To Have Is Trusted
When one begins to establish a history
One's choice to be deceiving,
Does not mean those activities go unseen...
To be disbelieved.
When one begins to establish a history,
Misdeeds like these...
Clarifies one's identity.
Packaged within an unmistakable personality!
And why this is a mystery to one so obvious,
Can not be explained.
Even though a pattern has been created,
That maintains its sameness.
When one begins to establish a history
One's choice to be deceiving,
Does not mean those activities go unseen...
To be disbelieved.
And accepting environment,
Has a way of making anything tolerated!
Even one's disgust becomes tradition.
As if a needed must to have is trusted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We Trace Our Roots
there are ways of tracing our roots
where we come from
why we are here
how our forefathers braved
the seas and survived the big waves
of uncertainties
the cold, dark nights of their fears
how they all believed in dreams
how they trusted the direction given by the stars
how they solidified their hearts
with faith and hope
and love
as i listen to all of you talk about the stories
of our ancestors
my mind begins to to grow and travel
like roots
deep down the earth
tracing some humus
where i must live again
perhaps ever braver than the pioneers
they are our ancestors
and i think, they still believe that since we come from them
we must all be like them,
my dear cousin, now we have become the roots ourselves
and another child shall come
in the future
and listen some more, wanting to become branches and leaves and flowers
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sympathies For the President
The problem plaguing Barack Obama
any political candidate, anyone preaching need for change
the need for change, the will for progress,
Is chiefly individual
all beings most strive from within,
seeking compassionate solutions
to those problems keeping any being
from getting their basic needs met.
Sad but the president always goes grey
growing old, thinning out,
wearing the mask of desperation, while in office.
A single man given too much range
expectations idealization polarization division
when is the president ever more than money's puppet
or a nations scapegoat?
Beyond congress, constituents must come together
set aside divisive ideologies, act out of cooperation and compassion,
beyond big government spending its up to citizens and corporations alike,
acting as equals to insure the basic needs of every being are being met
Anyone man trying to convince such a large of number on constituents
something that begins from within stands powerless
President's seem always best to represent, a country's great unrealized potential,
integrity, positive influences informing decision making,
the president shed's one positive light, as a person always has the potential
to act heroically, woman or man, when race and religion are set aside,
everyone has the power to be a hero.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Preferably When The Lights Are Out
In these times we live...
Men are having sex with men.
Women are having sex with women.
They are bi-coastal...
Bi-polar,
Bi-sexual
And as dysfunctional as everything they represent!
Even those sneaking around in the halls of government...
Don't use the term 'gay'!
Even though their ancestors
Whose standards they are trying to cling onto...
Labelled the 1890's as the Gay '90's!
And they weren't attempting to surpress anything,
Back then!
But today?
Any and everything is accepted!
As long as it is done 'undercover'.
Preferably,
When the lights are out!
Or...
In bathroom stalls that are cleaned!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Obama does not represent America. Nor does he represent anything what our forefathers stood for. This country is basically built on an attitude. It's a way of life. It's not because you're born here. It's not that you're supposed to take from those who have and give to those who haven't. That kills a country. It killed Russia.
quote by Luke Scott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then There Were None
Though it be
That life be short
In the eyes of history
In the eyes of the human race
It be long
Prosperous
Inspiring
Which one is correct?
History is incorruptible
From truth
And we live knowing
That at any moment
our long
prosperous
inspiring
could end
The human race be stagnant
persistent
We all end
But as we focus
On the moment comforts
That protect what we want now
Not the things that
Made us
Will end us
poem by Connor Brown
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I Am Apart Of History
I am apart of history
History lies deep down inside of me
I am like Martin Luther King
Just like him I'm going to let freedom ring
I am like Mary Bethune
Because like Maya Angelou I walk like I got oil wells pumping in my living room
I am apart of history
History is important to me
I am like Charles DREW
Like him I can be a scientist too
I am like Malcolm X
Come on my sisters and brothers we have to stop that
I am like Chainey, Schwenger and Moore
I will get people to vote I will go to every door
I am apart of history
I accept the rights my ancestors gave to me
I am like Jackie Robinson
Lokking in the sky at my home runs
I am like Harriet Tubman
Taking slaves to their freedom land
I am like Medgar Evers
Like him I too can be clever
I am like Barack Obama
Rising above to greatness despite the drama
I am apart of history
History is deep down inside of me
poem by Jeanette Matthews
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Maybe I Know My History A Little Bit Better Than You Do (In Answer To Sipho Sepamla)
Maybe I know my history
a little bit better than you do.
My friend, you are talking
about stories being heard
around coal-stoves
concerning animals
and no real facts
are expressed in your poem.
I know when my ancestor Joost Strijdom
arrived in the Cape of Good Hope in May 1678,
that I descend from the lovely brave Maryna Ras,
when your ancestors
were migrating from a place called eMbo
at the big African lakes under
leadership of chief Dlamini
and later under chief Nguni.
I know how my ancestors battled
against wild beasts, fought the zulu-impi
at Blood River
and overcame by the help of
the almighty God
and that I would not have existed
if they died at the hands of the Zulus.
I know how my ancestors build
farms, churches and houses
while yours were living
in thatched grass huts.
I know how my great grandfathers
and one of my grandfathers
was enveloped in a war against the British,
how they survived
and how my great grandmother
died in a British concentration camp.
I have even faced Cubans
under Soviet command
in the largest mechanised battle in Africa,
apart from those in the Second World War
and we had a decisive victory
that is now being denied
while history books are being rewritten
and fiction is creeping in
and maybe the new propaganda, the lies
of the new history suits you far better.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Civilization is not a spontaneous generation with any race or nation known to history, but the torch to be handed down from race to race from age to age.
quote by Kelly Millar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Mongrel Witnessed
From the shores of Danish harbors,
I live my Viking past.
And I hear the words of my father saying...
'You are not pure.
You are a mongrel.
You represent ancestors...
On your blood line that will last.'
And I listen to those speak of their ancestry,
As if they were as pure as they could be.
With most of them wishing they sat on thrones,
Depicting their connection with royalty.
But as for me I'll take being called a mongrel, .
A moor who is black or a more not without that.
It doesn't matter to me.
Since this 'mongrel' witnessed to be observed,
IS going to achieve with a doing done to be believed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I put together the influences of my life in as clear a way as I possibly can, in the same way that Beethoven or Schoenberg or Bach put their influences together.
Ancestral domain my quest
history tells on people, geography, race, culture and
events, is a wonderful topic for, the process gives
meaningful aspect of human sphere
great civilization started in common principle, an
inherent idea, that all men are created equal, above
other living animal who lives in this wonderful earth
a unquestionable notion that all species are free to
procreate, free to exist, free to subdue of what is
given and has all the opportunity to live in any given
time
the land is the only living testimony that witness the
existence of our races in many ages, for it is the race
who own the land, any dishonor of the human race is
worse than death
not need to go, beyond cultural languages and principle
but only we need to know the basic principle that before
the culture comes to existence the human lives, owns
the land
defination of terminology, even indigenous people as
defind has nothing to say on the real meaning of race,
words definition, hutchs the essence of human race
it is now the quest of every race, to praxis and achieve
our meaningful existence, for only our race lives forever,
and zeal by time in the history of ancestral domain,
a quest of our human race.......
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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