The Church street bomb
What a hell of banging sound resounded
in the inner city
on that day.
The air rushed turbulent
past me and the blast
made glass and concrete
shatter and rain down
in a deadly hail.
Innocent men, woman and children
who where on the street
where scarred, mutilated,
maimed and slaughtered.
Later the sirens of the fire brigade,
ambulances and police wailed past,
sounding like machines mourning
the inhumanity of a political cause
and of man killing man without any remorse.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw
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In The Time That It Takes To Park A Cream Coloured Car
On a autumn day in the time
that it takes to park a cream coloured car
a devastating ball of fire, of flame
detonates shattering
in Church Street, Pretoria
on the twentieth of May nineteen eighty three
causing shrapnel to fly down in the street
splintering, scattering
flying, piercing glass
from all the buildings facing the street
in a deadly shimmering rain
murdering, maiming blowing to bits
the innocent civilian men, women and children
passing by in the street
for a political cause
giving a loud hell of a bang
of a applause
as if the whole of humanity
has gone insane
leaving blood, guts, body parts
and the survivors in terrible pain.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Fire Brigade
Cast your mind back ten years
To the girl whos next to me in school
If I put me hand upon her leg
She hit me with a rule
Though tomorrow wont be long
Youre gonna have to play it cool
You get fascinated by her
She could set the place on fire
Run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
See the buildings start to really burn
Get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
If you jump youve got to wait your turn
Friends all seem to laugh
I fear Im apt to make a compromise
Try to reassure myself
My head must need some exercise
Half past ten in the morning
She just took me by surprise
True she set the place on fire
You get fascinated by her
Run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
See the buildings start to really burn
Get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
If you jump youve got to wait your turn
The lights across the street throw a rainbow
Id love you all to meet her
Ill be there, Ill be there
Notice that my eyes have been
A misty place since saturday
Brings a feeling we might lead
The fire engines anyway
Though tomorrow wont be long
Youre gonna have to play it cool
You get fascinated by her
She could set the place on fire
Run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
See the buildings start to really burn
Get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
If you jump youve got to wait your turn
Run and get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
See the buildings start to really burn
Get the fire brigade
Get the fire brigade
If you jump youve got to wait your turn
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Timebomb
If God would be a liar
He would be just like us
We think he knows of madness
Who says hes got to be real
We cant wait another day
Where do we go from here
A sin is not the only way
But thats how it seems to be
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
The world is spitting fire
On sun and moon and stars
It cant be our desire
Writing the rules on the wall
We cant wait another day
Where do we go from here
A sin is not the only way
But thats how it seems to be
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We cant wait another day
Where do we go from here
A sin is not the only way
But thats how it seems to be
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
We are timebombs- cold killing machines
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Skeletons
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people small as ants,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
lost between ovens that cook glowing,
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
I saw people struggle in the dusk
and this morning I came
past huge, long pipes that hiss like snakes
between yellow cranes groaning and bended.
Where white smoke are stoked through round chimneys
people were trapped and caged
between hell-hot fires of iron and metal
busy with their work as if dumb,
as if only machines with their humanity missing
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
through walls, doors and roofs that block off
lost in the circles that the city draws,
people were trapped and caged
with crying, screaming, gnashing machines everywhere
without any natural refreshment or relief
between yellow cranes groaning and bended
with tiredness, disconcert, alienation on every feature
they kept building
lost in the circles that the city draws.
Like beings coming from another planet,
ghosts just waiting for a coffin,
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
while some were clinging to black pipes
and children were laughing without concern
they kept building
on terrains with danger signs on the outside
without worrying, with there destiny determined.
Between yellow cranes groaning and bended
I saw people gather at skeletons of steel and concrete,
with their lives tinned, day and night
lost between ovens that cook glowing
and children were laughing without concern,
I saw people struggle in the dusk.
[Reference: Past skeletons of steel and concrete by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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As if the beast in man is loose (Terzanelle)
Where in the night shells are shrieking
past and overhead
and the tracks of tanks are creaking,
corpses of the dead
I see in flashes thundering like lightning
past and overhead
and the howl of war machines is frightening
as if the beast in man is loose in all devilry,
I see in flashes thundering like lightning
as if madness has awaken in sheer revelry
and man has loosened destruction and inhumanity in his wars
as if the beast in man is loose in all devilry,
and on shores, in and out of doors
implements of death are falling like rain
and man has loosened destruction and inhumanity in his wars
and even the innocent civilians are crying in pain
where in the night shells are shrieking
implements of death are falling like rain
and the tracks of tanks are creaking.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Crying against the wind
I
I saw boys growing up as
Christians,
learning about God,
being taught at school,
to respect
about discipline,
to stretch the mind
and the boys were young and innocent
and for us there were peace.
We slept with unlocked doors,
the police did their job
to the best of their ability,
but the world changed.
II
I saw the effects
of the terrorist bomb
in church street
that smote the innocent
people in the street
and young and old
men, women
scarred, mutilated, maimed,
and cut into bits and pieces
by shrapnel and the deadly
rain of flying glass.
I saw an academic hospital
filled in every hall,
and the few doctors
and paramedics and sisters and nurses
and accountants, clerks,
and office people
issuing disaster cards
and admitting the living.
III
I saw young boys forced to become
a part of a deadly war machine,
and they were barbered, drilled, cursed
and trained to be the best soldiers,
learning discipline,
the strength found in oneself,
about friendship
and suffering the consequences
of killing humans beings.
I saw young men
playing Russian roulette
and at times
wishing to be dead
and I saw boys
becoming better persons
than they were
and starting to be
true believers
of the almighty One
and others turning
into the worst
kind of human beings
and losing all religion,
Integrity and decency
and the madness of hate
taking its toll
I saw boys going
through dense bush,
living in the field,
tracking and destroying deadly terrorists
as just another day’s work,
driving armed vehicles
and battle tanks,
fighting against great odds
and winning every battle
and the war.
I saw war,
the destruction,
the desolation that it brings,
the suffering of the innocent,
the savage carnage
and dead enemies
in great numbers
and people with shot off
legs and arms.
I saw friends die,
shot to pieces,
toasted by prosperous projectiles,
smashed by mortars
and killed
in most of the ways that war brings
and politicians lying and deposing
each other
and the world changed.
IV
I saw religious fanatics
killing innocent people,
crashing planes into buildings,
getting the war
that they begged for,
dying the death
which they sought
and innocent bystanders
paying the toll
for their deeds
and the world changed.
V
I saw the borders being thrown open
to all of Africa,
criminals streaming in,
selling drugs, running prostitution,
lost two cars
to robbers that the insurance
did not pay
and my best friend
left the country
after a hijacking.
I saw children
smoking marijuana, doing crack cocaine,
injecting themselves with heroine
living like vagrants,
whoring around,
robbing from their parents,
braking into houses,
escaping from rehabilitation,
going to jail,
losing the reasons to live,
desperately trying to get the next fix
and dying from drugs and Aids.
VI
I saw reverse racism
that changed laws,
discrimination,
white people with degrees
and experience without work,
while untrained black people
brought every government department
but the taxman
almost to a standstill
and foreign black aliens from all over Africa
having greater rights
and electricity being cut
and the country was in darkness
and the people lived in poverty
and tatters
while they thought about what they had lost
and nobody was counting the cost
and the oppressed were crying in vain
against the wind
and waiting for the rain
that brings life back again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Church Street, Pretoria
Right down the street the traffic lights are green
and a couple of homeless men stand around a fire
in a half drum and ambulances and police cars scream
while they past rows and rows of flats for hire
and a couple of kids stand smoking at the stream
and this is reality, the heart of the city.
On the sidewalk pedestrians walk in crowds of men,
women and some children, some booted up to the knee
others with mini skirts short enough to condemn them
and my city stays lovely to me.
People queue for fried chicken, fish
and chips at shops and cafés and the smells fill my nose
and tomatoes and onions, lamb and steak are fried with a hiss
and in the traffic an angry speed-cop tries to retain his pose
when a minibus taxi almost runs him over, gives him a fright
at a flickering traffic light
and cars stream by into the coming night.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Winter Song
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people's feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Will the Winter never go?
What do beggar children do
With no fire to cuddle to,
P'raps with nowhere warm to go?
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Hail and ice, and ice and hail,
Water frozen in the pail.
See the robins, brown and red,
They are waiting to be fed.
Poor dears, battling in the gale!
Hail and ice, and ice and hail.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Inhumanity Still Like Before, Marches On
The killing of six million innocent people,
did not make the world stop turning,
it was hardly comprehended
and the inhumanity and the deeds
of Adolf Hitler, Paul Joseph Goebbels,
Adolf Eichman, Franz Stangl, Franz Murer,
Erich Rajakowitsch, Hermine Braunsteiner,
Karl Silberbauer, Josef Schwammberger
and many more people,
today is only a postscript in history
and wherever war rages, where bombs rain down,
the innocent pay the price,
where nations die of hunger
inhumanity still like before
marches on.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A shot rang out like lightning out of a gun
Goodbye to the land where the sun always shine,
to the blue sky that always is bright,
goodbye to the light that comes every day
and hello to that midnight which is cold and dark.
A shot rang out like lightning out of a gun
fading the sun while white vapour rose
out of a shot out armoured car,
I couldn’t close my eyes or look away.
Goodbye to that enemy tank stopped in its tracks
against a bank of earth
while my armoured car’s gun rang out
sending a phosphorus shell with fire from hell.
A rocket flew past with a flaming tail
like a star falling from the sky
before exploding against a tree with a blast
and goodbye to the enemy soldiers who fired it
while we moved past at speed
with a machinegun howling a great cry.
I heard that enemy commander weeping over the radio
while his frequencies were blocked
being in shock
and sounding like the voices of many men
crying in the anguish of death
as if a deadly net had been cast
and I wish that I could understand Spanish
but the noise was ear-splitting
and it was goodbye to tank after tank
and goodbye with blast after blast and going in quick
stopping, firing and running away fast
and every enemy armoured car we found
only got one shot
till the last shell had being fired
and tired we went to fetch some more,
ate in a hurry before being wished good luck
and going back to war.
poem by Gert Strydom
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City on Fire! ! ! ! !
City on fire,
As red flames leap from
Gulmohar tree in May.
No cause for dismay,
It lifts the mood
And fills with cheer,
The clusters
Of red blossoms,
I smile, as
I drive past,
No fire brigade
Required.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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An Accident
Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure of a woman
hazy in the rain
against the furious lights of the car
in the middle of the city
it is tense
i mean the feeling when you are
in the middle of the street and it is raining
and there are furious lights of the car
on a busy street
and what you see
is the figure of a woman
against the howls
of the sirens of the ambulance
and people running
wanting to see
what happens finally
inside that
yellow line
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grieve England
Grieve, England, and hang your head
in utter shame,
as the tale of your inhumanity
rings to this very day.
Grieve about your fallen brave, England,
for no glory did your heroes bring
back from the battlefields of South Africa,
where they killed children
who did not want to betray
the whereabouts of their fathers.
What glory shines
in pillage and rape
and how does lament ring,
with the utter destruction
of farmsteads of a nation?
Grieve about the soulless slaughter, England,
of most of a nation’s women
and children in your cruel concentration camps,
where you fed glass mixed with meal
and let thousands of the innocent die of pestilence.
Cry, England, and hang your head
in utter shame,
as the tale of your inhumanity
rings forever more.
[Reference: => To the Anglo-Boer war where thousands of innocent woman and children died in British concentration camps.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Detroit City
Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
And let the Silver Bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, Shady wore a bib
And the Posse wasn't even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovin' it in to overdrive
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
There's a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin' red and gray
But the Riff kept a rockin'
The Creem kept a talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City
Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile ten mile eleven mile
Detroit City
Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Gonna die there
We don't belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
Well, I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Spirits Will Rise
No one dares dream of beach houses
While walking on these dirty city streets
In the misty sullen rain
Where the children smile despite some new despair
That is always lurking around the corner.
A mother will drive home from work
And brush her hair
While listening to police sirens
Invade the open air.
Drug deals and daily violence
Mar the already bleak surroundings,
But someone will help an old lady
Cross the street
And all spirits will rise above the sadness
Of struggling survival.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Detroit City (Lyrics)
Me and Iggy were giggin' with Ziggy and kickin' with the MC5
Ted and Seger were burnin' with fever
and let the Silver bullets fly
The Kid was in his crib, shady wore a bib
and the posse wasn`t even alive
Shock rock choppin' block, songs to make your heart stop
Shovie it in ta overdrive
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
There`s a riot raging downtown
Tryin' to burn the place down
Skies glowin; red and grey
But the Riff kept a Rockin'
The Creem kept a-talkin'
And the streets still smokin' today
Playing loud and fast
Make that guitar blast
Playing like today will be your last...
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean streets
Detroit City
Six mile seven mile eight mile nine mile
ten mile eleven mile Detroit city
Louder
Faster
Louder
Detroit City
Well I was born there
Gonna die there
We don`t belong here
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
Hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
Well I was born there
Probably die there
With all my long hair
Detroit City
You feel your heart beat
You hit the concrete
Dance the mean street
Detroit City
poem by Satan's Sibling
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May God Help The Poor Children
He help the homeless children the children of the street
He give them clothes and shelter he give them food to eat
He try to shield them from police the police no mercy show
And the glue sniffing children of the streets at their hands suffer so.
I watched a documentary on Guatemala the saddest I've seen for years
The crimes against the children moved hardened heart to tears
The police of Guatemala beat the street kids to death
How can men do such evil things and not live to regret? .
The street kids of Guatemala they know Bruce Harris well
He try to keep them from the streets from life of crime and hell
He try to shield them from police from cruel inhuman men
His is an uphill battle a battle hard to win.
He help the homeless children the children of the street
He give them clothes and shelter he give them food to eat
And may God help the poor children such suffering they go through
And God bless all those who help them and God bless Bruce Harris too.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Schindler
Spielberg's little girl in red
Walking through the ghettos to hide under a bed
Must children suffer man's inhumanity
Every child's face around the world should lead to humanity
The signs of our time in now
Remembering the futile past and how
Every child's heart is a heavenly host
Not a spirit to be slaughtered at a post
A little girl in red slaughtered and hauled away in death's cart
Every child born into this world must live to play their spiritual part
Multicultural endeavors must take a place
Man's inhumanity towards man a true disgrace
Spirituality through cultural understanding every child's face
Hatred through violence will not win the struggle of that child's facial pace
I reach far into my heart when I cry of a child's need
A child must always remain the fruit of our sacred seed
Every child's heart is blessed with the color of red
Facial expressions so bold and sacred
In every child's heart there is God's testament written in gold
Multicultural hearts of God's most heavenly mold.
poem by Robert G. English
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Blown Up Slaughtered
the blood of innocent
men women children
blown up slaughtered
by your fancy jet planes
is sick neutered political point
scoring of cruel worst kind....
air force stealth jets scores
international political points
for infamous shadow masters
poem by Terence George Craddock
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