Consolation
How great it is not to be going
to Zimbabwe this summer
not having to go through
a packed border post,
the ruins that’s left of her cities,
or visiting friends on their farms,
since they have all being driven away.
No need to hunt for petrol
from fuel station to fuel station,
no need to find your way
through a crowd of hungry children
and no need to feel guilty
because you have food
and a car and a place called home.
There’s no Victoria falls here,
no Zimbabwe ruins built from rock,
no Kariba lake to live in a boat on,
no great Zambezi to white river raft on
and no need to be afraid
because you are white.
How much better to take the familiar highway
past Durban down to Margate
or to go somewhere on the South coast
and not to study outdated maps
of the unknown to find a place
called Mana pools
on a dirt track
in the middle of the veldt.
How much better to eat in great
familiar restaurants,
that does not charge in US dollars
and to holiday
right next to the big blue ocean
and to tan on a choice of beaches.
Robert Mugabe can have his whole damn country,
even if he’s not the chosen leader
as long as he keeps
his population there,
but everywhere I look
there’s Zimbabwean aliens appearing
out of the blue
and even on a lovely beach
a Zimbabwean girl
swims in panties and a bra
or walks without any.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Zimbabwe frightened you
Zimbabwe frightened you,
Zimbabwe where we could be alone
and in a way I felt at home.
The dark black faces,
the savagery, hunger
and wretched poverty
were more than you could take.
You panicked thinking
that the unruly young teenagers
and so-called war veterans
would not just drive
the farmers away,
but were sharpening
their Panga-blades
even for white tourists.
Everywhere you looked,
you saw death, destruction
and black rule taking its toll
and the ever hungry
begging people
was like a prophecy
of what in the future
may be waiting for us
at home.
Visiting the places
we had dreamed of,
the Zimbabwe ruins,
Mana pools, Kariba lake
and the Victoria falls
was like a nightmare to you.
Even the African art carvings
of people and animals
and rural paintings
of the Ndebele people
hardly caught your eye
and you would rather die
than stay a day longer.
African dancers screaming
around a fire
and dancing like shadows
on the beat
of ancient drums
drove the fear home,
so that you wanted to get into the car.
[References: To Minette, of whom there is just memories. You Hated Spain by Ted Hughes.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Human Blood Is Shed For Power
Human blood is shed for power in the African Sun
In Zimbabwe the only law is by the gun
Robert Mugabe now Africa's greatest despot an old man in years
Has turned his Country into a Land of oppression, hunger, Bloodshed and tears
A so called freedom fighter behind his so called military he cower
The awful crimes some do commit for to hang on to power
Arguably Africa's worst living despot where many despots are
For to hang on to power Mugabe has gone far too far
Most poor people in Zimbabwe do not have God on their side
By a power hungry octogenarian their lives have been destroyed
No fool like an old fool some are known to say
With Robert Mugabe it sure is that way
Despite his education he is not a wise man
He has not learned from life in his lengthy life span.
poem by Francis Duggan
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African Identity Is Lost
Thank you South Africa Thank you
Today I don’t know why should I cal myself an African
South Africa I am afraid
I don’t know why you have killed people of Zimbabwe
You have exposed this mother land
It is like what Hitler was doing to the Jews
Why, Why, Why? ? ?
Yesterday we were depending on Zimbabwe for liberation struggle.
We had no fighting machines, no residences and no identity
Robert Mugabe Sacrificed all of his power, just because he wanted to see South Africa out of its previous crisis
With the lapse of 15 years?
Why don’t you look at United State of America?
United State has truly become a Model Liberal Country
Its President is a black person
It is a mixture of different people – none of which we have ever had such South African Tragic Killings
Today I am telling te whole world that I am so embarrassed
Ladies and Gentlemen: South Africa is a Xenophobic Country
If you think to pay a visit for study there: please take another option
I had never think that a person can be boiled with fire for no reason but Xenophobia
I wish you a very bad lucky
Perhaps God can give you a Tsunami over your bad reputation
South Africa does not only needs to apologize to Zimbabweans
It needs to apologies to the whole world
It needs to apologies to the whole Africa country
It need to apologies to God himself
It need to apologies to itself for having lost consciousness
I want to warn South Africa with one thing
Fire is not the end of the world
It is not to terminate the Zimbabweans by burning them alive
God has always been there before the fire
I remember when the King ordered fire to kill three men in the bible
God came out to be a shield
Just like he protect people from the lions he can be an answer to what South Africans have done to Zimbabweans
It is like there is absolutely nothing happened to all over the country
Nobody is feeling the sense of pity about these people
They are being treated as the dead dogs
Eve the policies who were there to mediate seem to smile, during event.
The religious groups who are always regarded as holy have not even gathered to express words of regret not only to Zimbabweans but to God himself.
I don’t know which country I can run to
Because I can hear the anger of Gods –talking to me
I wish I can fly away because the pain that South Africa will feel is more that the fire
I am not talking about a joke, I am talking about god
Africa what you have done is to challenge the Lord himself
Since God is able to protect a person that people are playing with
What about those South African who have decided to kill people the image of God himself.
I don’t know: but I think it will be better to be at Zimbabwean Starvation that to be at tragic South Africa
Don’t you remember what happened when people steal the covenant of God at Middle East Countries?
I am yours and you are not mine
No we are not the same
I am not xenophobic
I believe the extended hand is more blessed with receiving hand
I reconcile the process of giving the poor Zimbabwean the food they deserve
No I am an African; It won’t be Africa to me to kill another African
I cannot stop thinking about this
I have several friends and collogues that are coming from Zimbabwe
I am shame of myself
I don’t know what kind of friendship I have with them if my Brothers are killing them
I don’t know whether I will see the in future because of these continuous killings
Thank you South Africa thank you
I did not realize that you have lost the covenant of God
I don’t know whether you are prepared for God’s reaction
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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In Margate
The curtains in the bedroom
are drawn close
and you lie
in semi-darkness.
Through the open window
I can smell the sea
and hear waves breaking
beyond the road.
The wind pulls at the curtains
and every now and then
the white beach
and the blue ocean peeps in.
We came to Margate
for a holiday at the sea
to bathe is shallow waters
to swim with the surf,
to have some fun
and tan in the hot sun,
but darkness hangs
like a shroud over you
while the white beach,
the bright blue sky
and the dark blue ocean waits
on us to come.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnets of home
I
I dream of building
a mansion, villa
or big white house
with a lot of space,
or maybe a Tuscan place
or two set on a terrace
on a mountain
with a wonderful view
overlooking the ocean
with a ivory white beach
that runs as far
as the eye can see
and to make it home
just for you and me
II
The birds will be our companions
and whales and dolphins
will pass in the bay
and a garden
as big as a park
will run all the way
down to the sea
and every plant and tree
that you like will be there
and vegetables will grow in patches
against the hill and there will be orchards
with juicy red, yellow and orange fruit
and plantations with big green pines
will cover the rest.
III
The house will be a white pillar
that towers like a castle above it all
and a place where any wary traveller
will be welcome to visit and rest
and there will be steps coming down
to the bay and a lift or two or three
next to an azure lagoon
where a cool river splashes down
in a big pronged waterfall
and we will be able
to lie in the bright sun
and run with the dogs
on the white beach
like children having fun.
IV
l’Envoi
Let others live in big crowded cities
and be packed into matchboxes
reaching up into the sky
and have more neighbours
than they care to know
but you and I
will be able to watch
blue waves twist and break
and hear the melody
of the rushing sea
and your studio and our home
will stretch from the hill
down to the aquamarine ocean
and touch the big sapphire sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Undiscovered Soul
R.sambora
She was standing at the station
Small town suitcase in her hand
There were dreams she found inside her
That no one cared to understand
She never talks about her childhood
So much past to leave behind
Shes so scared to go
But still she says goodbye.
When you walk that road
You walk alone
Just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
When you only hope
Is to find a home
Just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
In the great unknown.
Born and raised in poverty
Daddy died when he was young
All the fears that raged inside him
His spirit need to overcome
Each day he tears down the reflection
Of who he used to be
And with a little luck
Hell rise eventually.
When you walk that road
When you walk alone
Just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
When you only hope
Is to find a home
Just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
The great unknown.
Solo
In the search of our salvation
Relentlessly we climb
Just looking for a reason
In creations grand design
If patience is a virtue
Then let us humbly begin
Well be here waiting
til our ship comes sailing in.
When you walk that road
We walk alone
Just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
When you only hope
Is to find a home
Youre just an undiscovered soul
In the great unknown
The great unknown
The great unknown
Dont want to walk through life
And undiscovered soul.
Searching for the road
Looking for a home
In the great unknown
Dont want to walk through life
An undiscovered soul
Searching for a home
Looking for a road
In the great unknown
Dont want to walk through life
An undiscovered soul
Patience, virtue, identify, soul
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ocean Blue
Well you took me home
And you took me back
But deep down inside
The feeling just died and i
Couldnt see why
From indigo to royal blue
I travel far but no one will do
Anytime, anyplace
Every shape every face
Brings memories of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Fair weather friends might drift away
When summer ends and skies burn grey
So I walk to the ocean
Pilot these shores
Just thinking of you
Its time we kissed the clouds goodbye
From now on its strictly blue sky
Come rain and shine
The outlook is still fine
Im thinking of you
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean blue
Ocean blue, ocean ocean
Ocean, ocean
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue
Blue to be blue
To be blue
Ocean blue - ocean blue
I stand at the head of the queue
Theres mutinys every crew
Wishin and wonderin bout you
Ocean blue
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For The Turnstiles
All the sailors with their seasick mamas
Hear the sirens on the shore,
Singin songs for pimps with tailors
Who charge ten dollars at the door.
You can really learn a lot that way
It will change you in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence may be shattered,
It doesnt matter.
All the great explorers
Are now in granite laid, (in granite lake? )
Under white sheets for the great unveiling
At the big parade.
You can really learn a lot that way
It will change you in the middle of the day.
Though your confidence may be shattered,
It doesnt matter.
All the bushleague batters
Are left to die on the diamond.
In the stands the home crowd scatters
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles,
For the turnstiles.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Famous Tv Station
A Famous TV Station
She has the bland face of a Fox newscaster, not a hair
out of place; yes, and shapely legs too. Faithfully she
repeats the station’s political opinion, not a word out of
place. The male commentators are even worse as they
try to look intellectual, lies through their teeth but they
are well paid and careful of having an original thought
under their coiffeur heads. Like actors, in a Technicolor,
Cary Grant movie of middle class USA, a mono culture
that never existed. Voracious meat eaters with gigantic
white teeth which sparkle under studio light as fake pearls.
Yet for millions of viewers this is where they seek the news
and think they are served the truth. Is this what is called
the great American dream?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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There's A New Sign In Australia
There's a new sign in Australia
That's there for all to see
It informs the population
When a beach is riot-free
This land of snakes and spiders
With lethal poison in each bite
And massive sharks and jellyfish
To haunt your dreams at night
Has found a brand new species
A throw-back some would say
They're called the white supremacists
But have they ever been away?
It seems they stockpile weapons
Baseball bats and guns and knives
To do battle on the beaches
With the wog and lebo tribes
They're protecting their Australia
From foreign influence
They seem to want this great big land
Split up with some fence
That will keep the ethnics separate
Unless they all adopt our ways
It's called assimilation
And reflectecd in the phrase
That once described this country
And its migrant policies
They want a 'white Australia'
Full of pure white dumb Aussies.
poem by David Keig
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Great Blue Sky
watching the great blue sky recede into the black space it really is,
listening to the lapping of an active lake under the great blue sky,
feeling the soothing warmth of an active lake under the great blue sky,
smelling the lotion passing into the soothing warmth of an active lake under the great blue sky,
tasting the freedom of summer as the lotion passes into the soothing warmth of an active lake under the great blue sky,
the great blue sky which recedes into the black space it really is.
poem by Kale Beaudry
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The white man is not indigenous to Africa. Africa is for Africans. Zimbabwe is for Zimbabweans.
quote by Robert Mugabe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both Sides Now
So long, big city; it's time to say goodbye.I'm longing for those country roads;I need to see the sky.Think I'll take a swing down south, visit Tennessee.See if that girl Annie still remembers me.
Gonna take that blue highway and leave this sorry town.Stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.I don't wanna take the interstate; it represents all the things I hate.I'm rollin' down that blue highway.
So long, confusion; it's time to slow things down.Say goodbye to my old friends, ease on out of town.I made me some money here but paid for ev'ry day.And ev'ry mile just makes me smile, 'cause I made my getaway.
Gonna take that blue highway and leave this sorry town.I've stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.I've had it up to here with worry.From now on, I'm in no hurry, rollin' down that blue highway.
I'll be ridin' that blue highway and leave this sorry town.I've stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.I've had it up to here with worry.From now on, I'm in no hurry, rollin' down that blue highway.I'll be rollin' down that blue highway.You can find me on that blue highway.
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blues Highway
Words and Music by Neil Diamond and Harlan Howard
So long, big city; it's time to say goodbye.
I'm longing for those country roads;
I need to see the sky.
Think I'll take a swing down south, visit Tennessee.
See if that girl Annie still remembers me.
Gonna take that blue highway and leave this sorry town.
Stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.
I don't wanna take the interstate; it represents all the things I hate.
I'm rollin' down that blue highway.
So long, confusion; it's time to slow things down.
Say goodbye to my old friends, ease on out of town.
I made me some money here but paid for ev'ry day.
And ev'ry mile just makes me smile, 'cause I made my getaway.
Gonna take that blue highway and leave this sorry town.
I've stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.
I've had it up to here with worry.
From now on, I'm in no hurry, rollin' down that blue highway.
I'll be ridin' that blue highway and leave this sorry town.
I've stayed too long, but now I'm gone, and I know where I'm bound.
I've had it up to here with worry.
From now on, I'm in no hurry, rollin' down that blue highway.
I'll be rollin' down that blue highway.
You can find me on that blue highway
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seasons of Zimbabwe
The country newly-born, we were younger still
Jacaranda blossoms paved the stone under our feet
We drank the bittersweet coffee of the Chipinge hills
By the roadside in the glow of Independence
As we explored the central park's every hidden corner
The miniature Victoria Falls, the botanical treasures
And the open-air soapstone sculpture displays
You told me tipsy tales of Mzilikazi
We rode the flying bus down to the old Zimbabwe
And walked among the peaceful ruined walls
As peacocks strolled insoucient in the gardens
We climbed the fortress to view the rolling plains
The corn was white and tall the month we married
In an improvised bare office filled with laughter
Animals graced the hills above our reception
Music drifted to the border with Botswana
We made love in the wedding suite, high above the city
Embelished by the gentle blues of Cape China
With joy I entered you as your husband
And sunrise filled our window with its glory
Today we're not so young, Zimbabwe is much older
Its splendour is revisiting its ruins
In Namibia's childhood you were lost, your sweetness
Is held only by the warm earth of Mochudi now.
For we have all been claimed by our addictions
The richest topsoil worn down into powder
Dreams of liberation have been stolen
And seasons of young love are past their flower.
poem by Frank Bana
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Blue Highway
(featuring chet atkins) written by: neil diamond and harlan howard
So long big city
Its time to say goodbye
Im longing for those country roads
I need to see the sky
Think Ill take a swing down south
Visit tennessee
See if that girl annie
Still remembers me
Gonna take that blue highway
And leave this sorry town
Stayed too long, but now Im gone
And I know where Im bound
I dont wanna take the interstate
It represents all the things I hate
Im rolling down that blue highway
So long confusion
Its time to slow things down
Say goodbye to my old friends
Ease on out of town
I made me some money here
I paid for every day
And every mile just makes me smile
cause Ive made my getaway
Gonna take that blue highway
And leave this sorry town
Stayed too long, but now Im gone
And I know where Im bound
Ive had it up to here with worry
From now on Im in no hurry
Rolling down that blue highway
Ill be rolling down that blue highway
You can find me on that blue highway
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pleasure Beach
(words & music by john oates)
Pleasure beach
You may look but never find
That neglected place in time
Like a dream just out of reach
Pleasure beach
Not a place you left behind
Or a place youll ever find
Its a dream just out of reach
Its a place called pleasure beach
There aint no waves in a swimming pool
There aint no fun til you break the rules
Were ever young but never free
I guess thats how it was meant to be
On the beach our thoughts were hot
But our hearts were cool
We fell in love
But we like to fool around with everyone we meet
Its you for you
And me for me
Pleasure beach
You make look but never find
That neglected place in time
Like a dream just out of reach
Pleasure beach
Not a place youll ever find
Its a dream just out of reach
Its a place called pleasure beach
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I See A Boat On A River
He left on a boat
Just to follow a dream
He had to find.
You can't hold a man
When he follows a dream
That's on his mind.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I waited for him
Such a very long time,
Don't know what for
'cause i should have known
When he left on the boat
We'll meet no more.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river.
You're bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
There were people who came
And said it's really a shame,
Why did he take off
To follow just a dream.
But i guess they were wrong,
In life you're sailing along
And things don't turn out
As simple as they seem.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I see a boat on the river.
You're bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Home
How do I find my way back?
I've strayed too far from home.
I've gone so many places
for so many days.
I've even been to Rome.
I have seen so many sights now.
It seems to me that somehow
that every place I've ever seen
were places in-between
from the place that is my home.
My search for brand new places
and all those other places
never filled the gap
as I crossed the map,
so far from my sweet home.
For I missed the landscape,
the place that I grew up in.
The old familiar faces
were not in the places I've been.
And now I must retrace my steps.
I've searched this world all over.
Too long I've been a rover.
I'll take a trip on back
for I'm on the wrong track.
I wonder what I'll find at my home?
Nothing seems the same now.
Familiarity has changed somehow,
except for the peace I feel around me.
'Cause in my memory I still can see
the place that is my home.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Harare
The midsummer sun hangs flaming
over the capitol city
which is painted white,
(the same colour as the graves)
in a country
stripped from the white man’s might,
stripped from providing
and exporting food, minerals
and products
where the value of the currency
changes faster than the billion dollar number
printed on the worthless bills.
Just here and there a car moves
as the country is without fuel
and even the traffic lights
are not working
(and neither are most people)
as the electricity is down.
.
The rural farms stand stripped bare
with primitive peasants
living there in utter poverty
and the fertile soil is vacant
as everything has being taken
by the people
(by force from farmers)
and now nobody has anything
and nothing has being planted
on a commercial scale
and famine is getting
to chaotic lengths
and the people
have returned to the land
to find a resting place there.
Children play under flowering jacaranda trees
in a light hot breeze
with stomachs swollen from hunger
and slime running from noses
and flies wandering over their faces
and some men urinate
against the nearest tree.
The street is filled with fear,
poverty, hunger, pestilence and death
and soldiers stand around idle
smoking cigarettes
longing back to the days
when they went as the fifth brigade
to the south west regions
and killed Ndebele people
plundering their villages,
raping their woman
and slaughtering the children.
Still there’s no sound
of real opposition, as apposing politicians
are arrested and beaten
time after time
by the police
and an out voted president,
a man proclaiming to be a Jesuit,
remains in the ruling chair
and the secret police is everywhere
and he holds out a begging hand
to neighbouring countries
for fuel, electricity, food and medicine
and whatever he wants
and it’s quite easy to head south
even if you have to crawl,
walk, take a bicycle,
a car, a bus or a train
to a neighbouring country
where the colour of your skin
counts much more
than a place of birth.
poem by Gert Strydom
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