The Patriot
I am standing for a return
to the mighty Bible
which our forefathers tried to obey,
for every Afrikaner to pray
to the almighty God
who had protected us before,
but the modern generation
is without discipline falling apart,
following the foreign American culture,
believe that only the fittest will survive
and living as if they have no conscience
are responsible to no one but themselves
and violence, robbery, murder and rape
is at the order of the day
with foreigners streaming in
from all over Africa
and day by day
we play a deadly game
with criminals and crooked politicians
and my patience is running thin
and the situation I am in
cries out for war and much more,
but still the words of Nicolaas van Rensburg
has power to them
while the Afrikaner remains
subjected to unfair laws,
leaderless and weak,
our power still comes
from the almighty Lord
who sets kings to rule, rulers in their place,
who destroys nations and whole armies
at the time that suits Him
and at a time freedom will again come.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
An elegy for South Africa
Weep South Africa
as you are no longer my country
and I live here
as if I am
from another planet
as part of a small minority
in a country where dark Africa
declares murderers as heroes
and act like barbarians
and dance and scream.
At a time the orange, white and blue
streamed proud over you
and people at work,
school to parliament
bended their knees to God
who was their supreme leader
right through hordes
at blood river,
the onslaught of the British Empire
and with God on our side
we would quarter
for nobody and nothing.
Our own culture flowered,
children went through schools
right through university
to distinguish themselves
and you could even leave the doors unlocked,
could make a living somewhere,
the police were a servant and a friend
and we under our own rule.
How many times our ancestors
tried to teach other people of God,
distributed medicine and food
and we even faced
the communists and Cubans in Angola,
till on a day a man
for the wide world a hero,
out of our own ranks betrayed his brothers
and he laid the whole country lame
and didn’t sell it out,
but rather gave it away.
Today incompetents are everywhere in control
of state departments
right through into the parliament,
money is squandered,
a whole generation
through their own choosing
did not receive any school education,
whites are affirmed and impoverished by the law
and criminals and foreigners stream in
from all over Africa
to start a new life here.
Today another Afrikaner son is slaughtered
(one of more than three thousand) ,
what happens tomorrow and the next day?
[Reference: Murder on Eugene Terreblance. General condition in the country.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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South Africa Is Also My Country
From my birth South Africa is my own country
and my people can flee to an island
but my own culture and language stays holy
although this place is not safe,
I still trust on a much higher hand,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
even if the struggling government gives me resistance,
do oppress me with unfair laws,
even if nothing can stop the disintegration,
even if I am not safe against the onslaught,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country,
even if some act with effrontery against my people
I come from a noble heritage,
I am proud on my Afrikaner lineage,
even if people and buildings are set alight,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
From my birth South Africa is my own country
with no other place I have such a deep bond
and even if here I will never have any job,
I believe in God and a Christian church,
God himself still keeps my ways intact,
from my birth South Africa is my own country.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Many voices sing a song (in answer to HA Fagan)
Many voices sing a song
that asks the blessing of God
over the whole territory,
the continent of Africa
and there are millions standing there
everyone settled in one continent
Zulu, Xhosa and every Shangane
as if planted by Your own hand,
but where is the place of the Afrikaner,
where the Afrikaner can also flower?
Of the white woman and man
that comes from this earth?
We are down trodden, everyone expelled,
Boers, that You Yourself cause to sprout here.
[Reference: ‘Nkosi Sikelel’ i-Afrika by HA Fagan.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Lord, I know that even in impossibilities You are able to act
Lord, you rescued my nation
when a onslaught of thousands of Zulu’s
came at Blood River
against less than five hundred
with flintlock rifles
and when Cubans with armour under Soviet control
drew up in divisions
and a war about Africa was loosened,
we trusted You
but now the Afrikaner nation has been brought
under rule by another culture,
that does not regard You
and murder and take whatever they want
and see the lives of others and possessions
as their own.
l’Envoi
Lord God, I know that even in impossibilities
You are able to act
and ask that You remember
the covenant of our ancestors
and take note of this injustice
and that You in Your righteousness
cause this oppression to end
that the sun may shine as well
over my people.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Freedom (in answer to A.G. Visser)
Lord, You have formed our nation,
out of various nations You have built the Afrikaner nation
and led them miraculously to here.
The command comes from You
to get a own freedom,
that urge resides in You
and then our people trekked north
with some up to the equator,
defying barbarian, beast and every other danger
and at the onslaught at Blood River You became involved,
even when the British tried to force us into a kingdom
we later got our freedom, but now:
we are trampled; some of our people are scattered worldwide
and the urge to be free comes out of Your hand, almighty Lord.
[Reference: Vry! (Free!) by A.G. Visser.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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In the early morning
When a god in the early morning
descended from the east
he wanted to find
a farm girl
and to get a Afrikaner girl
as a mate,
but no Afrikaner farm girl
liked him.
He got really angry
and went to the old Orange Free State
and there he scorched the earth open
with lightning bolts
and blasted every thing flat
to be able to see miles far
when an Afrikaner farm girl passes.
He farmed as well as he could
and fetched his sheep
from the fields
and one day
when he was standing in the field
between the blue bushes,
he saw an Afrikaner farm girl going past
and on his horse
he rode as fast as the wind
with dust hanging
twisting behind him
to get his girl.
l’Envoi
With time a nation
emerged like giants
out of that dry earth
and they work
before the sun rises
farming in that arid region
and here and there
a boy
watches a girl...
[Reference: The Orange Free State is province in South Africa, which is very arid with a flat landscape.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Power Age
Key:-a - anita r - ray
R: welcome to the power age
Money, money, money
R: the power age its the new generation
We are the ones with no limitations
We had the iron and the stone
Now we got a new age that we own
But its not about the power that makes you blind
Its all about the the power thats in your mind
This is the time to get the power
The power age, this is the hour
So let the _ take you on _
A: woow...
So release all the pain that stood there before
A: this is the power age
So get with it, oyeah, you belong
Theres only one force that makes you strong
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: break out of your cage; into the power age
R: the age of destruction, the age of hate
And the age of violence and the ages of late
Greed and gain thats all they care
Money, money, money, with enough to share
So get with it feel the vibration
The power age its just a sensation
You can feel it down in your soul
When you let the force take control
So by now you better know the deal
A: woow...
You gotta to get high to get real
A: this is the power age
Free you mind to disgage
Welcome to the power age
A: oh.. oh...
This is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
R: this is the power age
This is the power age
Swing it
Swing it
A: get in to the power age!
A: cause we part of a new generation
R: the power age
A: woow.... this is the power age
R:yeah! the power age
A: woow.... this is the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
A: were reaching for the final destination
To break out of the cage
Get in to the power age
With all of the brand new generation
Its time to turn the page
We living in the power age
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Got The
Who got the chance to make things right?
Why the politicians always want to fight?
The Christian coalition and the right wing ooooh!
Let me tell you what you can do
Step outside the cone of silence
Too much hatred and violence
It's time to rewind
We need a military decline
Got the power of the mind focused
Government like a locust
Are we gone or just going?
Time to act on what we be knowinh y'all
Who got the power to make a difference?
Who got the power to make a change?
Who got the power to make a difference?
We got the
We got the
We got the
Eyes on the prize and never wane
Take the bull by the reins
If you want it be the change
Like Ghandi and MLK
Wait up, got to change the system
Need knowledge, power and wisdom
Same way I rock this microphone
Speak up, just let it be known
Hey ladies, fellas
And everyone between
Take the power back, let them react
And let's show them what we mean; Check it out
Who got the power to make a difference?
Who got the power to make a change?
Who got the power to make a difference?
We got the
We got the
We got the
We can work, walk, march and protest
Think about how we approach this
Ask questions but they keep frontin'
Due time we change a little something
Hey yo don't you know
Won't forget Amaduous Diallo
To the crooked people and the crooked cops
Got to spread love before the world goes pop
Never again should we use the A-bomb
We need an international ban on
all W.O.M.D.'s gone
We need a multilateral disarm
Who got the power to make a difference?
Who got the power to make a change?
Who got the power to make a difference?
We got the
We got the
We got the
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Will Africa Unite
Down below the ground come the voices of the great heroes
The pillars of Africa in those days........
From the west come the cries of grief
From the horizon flows the blood of Africa
Children with tattered clothes roam about the the streets
Innocent people are neglected at the mercy of death
Under the African sun, nations are fighting nations
While tribes are also fighting each other for leadership
Seemingly superior and mighty ones look down on the
seemingly inferior
Brothers bury their own relatives out of hatred and jealousy,
not to talk about chieftainship
Favoritism and nepotism is the order of the day.......
Gone are the days when the forefathers were around
Those days when they were the pillars of Africa
Theirs was a plethora of sacrifice, the kind Africa is lacking now
Africa whose hope and glory is vanishing into thin air
Africa whose own people are against each other
When will Africa unite to fulfill the promise of long ago?
When will Africa learn to love and desist from hatred?
When will Africa stop and repair the destruction caused by the ignorance of her own people
Be united and defend yourself
And know that 'Together we stand; Divided we fall'.
poem by Bartholomew Arkoh Boamah Sarbah
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Don’t Cry For Me Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
I see pain in your eyes people of Africa
It is hard to describe what you people of Africa are going through
Poverty strikes you all people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will keep you in my prayers people of Africa
Power to the people of Africa
People of Africa lift your spirit higher
Lord is the light and truth people of Africa
The Lord sends you a message from his heart to you people of Africa
He said because I love you
I will answer your prayers
I hear your prayers
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because you have a friend that is the Lord
People of Africa continue doing the Lords work
Make a wish people of Africa
The people of Africa are looking at the Lord face to face
Lord here is no paradise
We dream a little dream said the people of Africa to the Lord
The People of Africa Pray that the Lord will give each other strength every day
Don’t cry for me Africa
Save the people of Africa
Strengthened the people of Africa each day
Because I’ll be there in your dreams people of Africa
The people of Africa tells The Lord how much they love him
Don’t cry for me Africa
Lord comes when you are ready people of Africa
Feelings you have for your Lord People of Africa
And I know you will never let it die
Nothing but flowers the people of Africa will plant in the sea shore for the Lord
Don’t cry for me Africa
The people of Africa needs hope to heal there land
The Lord rose up on you people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
My heart will go on
Once I close this door of the ship I will sail across the Atlantic Sea
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Not with a machinegun, but with a pen (in answer to Breyten Breytenbach)
Not with a machinegun, but with a pen
I write this prayer
since Your might is greater than any weapon:
What am I able to tell You, Jesus Christ,
almighty Creator, God and upper Lord,
I who are only an Afrikaner in my forties,
since You know every thing, even before it happens
and there’s nothing that I can teach You.
How my country was taken away
by people who pray to ancestral spirits
(who probably are demons) ,
that a man with more than one wife
sit in the highest chair,
that I still pay taxes
when and where I have a job
and that it is difficult times
and work is very scarce
for a white man.
Would I have to tell about a government
that sings give me my machinegun
and a bullet for a Boer
and kill the farmer,
kill the white
as You know every thing.
That my people were disarmed
by the government
and by barbarians
are hacked into pieces
with panga-blades and axes
like you were sacrificed
and even in death
they are humiliated
by pulling their pants down
like You had to hang naked on the cross,
that women are raped
as if every white woman
is a sex slave
belonging to the hordes
that they still throw knucklebones
and think that it brings them invincibility
and freedom from blame.
l’Envoi
All that I am really asking
is that all of these deeds
and the things that they do, say and sing
go into the cup of Your wrath
and please help
my people and me
to serve You better
that the wide world
(like with our ancestors)
can see Your might and salvation.
[References: nie met die pen nie maar met die masjiengeweer by Breyten Breytenbach. Murder on Eugene Terreblance. Murder and violence on white people.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Your name will not carry another meaning for me
Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,
as a place where people serve criminal kings
and even if they throw the South away and it becomes just Africa
with foreigners streaming in, I do not go out to hurt you,
even if we feel that we deserve a better country.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me
like people see you in foreign countries,
as a place where we have to ask God for help
in injustice, revolt and a loss of national dignity
where white people by force loose their own possessions
because I am born to you like my ancestors, my South Africa.
Your name will not carry another meaning for me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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For too long I am waiting (in answer to Koos A. Kombuis)
For too long I am waiting
caught in a anthill,
that people call an apartment,
where everyone lives for himself
as if the others do not exist
and music bleats right through the night,
people of another race shamelessly
cavort, whore and drink.
For too long criminals stare at me on the street,
Zimbabweans, Tanzanians and people
from right across Africa sniggers
as if my music system, DVD player and TV
in the lounge belongs to them
and hit with lashing tongues
in French and Portuguese
which here is totally foreign
and I have got to look if an AK-47
is pointing at me
when I drive with my car from the garage.
For too long I receive foolish electronic mails
and SMS’s on my computer and cellular phone
from a certain political party,
as if these people in a way
have an interest in my jobless situation
while in parliament
they do not oppose affirmative action
and my last cents left my purse.
I despise the rubbish
on the front papers of newspapers
and do not want to know
how the president’s seventh wife looks like
while my whole country
is falling to pieces bit by bit
and the Afrikaner is systematically mauled
with poverty waiting
and like a total idiot
is totally unaware of it
until catastrophe hits him.
Knights swear at others on the road
and have relationships with each other’s wives
while they live only for the here and now
and Philistines from right across Africa
surge in millions
and overnight become citizens
with greater and better rights
and to nowhere else
they are going to drive me out
even if they write abusive names
and who now what
in graffiti writing
while every morning, afternoon and night
I lift my eyes to the almighty God.
[Reference: Psalm 150 (b) by Koos A. Kombuis.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Pride To Be An African
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of which everybody imitates
My Africa of which culture exceed the Greek
My Africa of which everyone is jealous of
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of enormous natural endowment
My Africa of Non-Violence
My Africa of Amorous populates
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of patriot men and women
My Africa of shelter and vintage hospitality
My Africa of great ancestral mythology
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa that bore fruits of black diamonds
My Africa which is a gift to the whole world
My Africa of great leadership
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of learned youths
My Africa of a bright generation
My Africa true tradition
My Africa My Africa My Africa
My Africa of black pageant women
My Africa of strong men
My Africa from who we all hail from
For every African deserves a Nobel Prize in
Existence.
poem by Fasan paul
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Let South Africa be our country again
Let South Africa be our country again
and South Africans from all over the world
stream back,
to dream here like before,
to hope, to wish
of a place
not bordered of by burglar bars
where people can stay free
before God and man.
Let merit and respect be present
and people receive what they deserve
rather than expecting affirmative-action
and mercy from others
and the whole world
and like in the past
let us successfully do our own thing.
Let opportunities really exist
to be free in work,
living and association,
to study in your own language,
let us pull the teeth of the dogs
that rips others apart to rule,
of might that shatters the weak.
Let the animal inside us die
and we really become people
that does not burn each other,
crush and vituperate
and in groups jeering urge the killing on
and do not rob, but work
for the life that we have got.
Let we break the chains
of people ruling
with profit, might
and work people into the ground
and misuse others to gain prosperity.
I am the white Afrikaner that had to fight in war
and now are unemployed and hungry,
while I have a university degree.
I am the black man that without education
have to dig holes and man garbage trucks
and conclude my life in a shack.
I am the coloured that always stand between all groups
and do not know where I belong
and rather gather in gangs.
I am the South African that life
drives down the whole time
and have to pray all the time,
to know how to carry on.
l’Envoi
Still, I am the one that dream
of a country free from crime,
where everybody have equal opportunity,
where rape, corruption
and lawlessness ends
and where South Africa is our country again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Painful thoughts
Like a lightning
striking from a azure blue sky
and hitting where nobody expects it,
is the pain
when a Afrikaner hand
hits another Afrikaner down.
The bullet that bursts through Jopie Fourie
nobody can stop
and still that shot rings out
and are deafening.
How is a great Commandant General honoured
who for a day was President
of the Orange Free State
and taught the British a thing or two
about warfare?
How many women had to suffer anguish
and chained themselves
to free Christiaan De Wet
out of a nation’s
own prison
and his people
that buys his freedom
will forever stay with me.
By himself Jan Smuts changed
from a Boer hero,
to somebody
that lifts his hand against his own
to get worldly fame
and for his own benefit.
Today I wonder
where you and I
stand in these things?
How easy it has become with affirmative action
and BEE
to destroy the careers
of innocent Afrikaner men
and to push their life’s
on the rubbish dump
and I wonder how many Afrikaner women,
sit in the front chairs
while Afrikaner men
are praying to find a job?
It cuts like an unknown pain through me
and I wonder when merit
will again find a place
as a measure of fairness
and I see that my people are torn apart
and own benefit
is leading before integrity
and I wonder what are my people becoming?
[Reference: Jopie by: Jan F.E. Celliers. BEE=> Black Economic Empowerment.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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There were two mentalities, and both mentalities had to change. There was what I called the Afrikaner mind set of the Unionist politicians, which was holding all power in their own hands, and discriminating, and their objective was to protect their identity.
The Inner Voice - Conscience
Laws on earth can be made, unmade;
Laws can be bettered or worsened by change;
Laws may be just or unjust and never perfect;
Laws can be changed for comfort and convenience.
Laws may change from time to time;
Laws cannot reflect truth always;
Laws depend on the constituent makers;
Laws can never be ideal for all times!
But the inner Voice -the Conscience is static;
It always speaks the truth irrevocably;
It is not transmutable anytime;
It can never lie ever even by chance.
The Inner Voice scores over laws always;
One's conscience always tells what is right;
Freedom of man's conscience is paramount;
Laws to stifle the Inner Voice are simply futile!
Laws are needed but must be just and fair;
Laws aren't needed to fetter the conscience;
Laws are man-made and transmutable;
Conscience is God-given, remaining the same in everyone!
Obey the laws when they are fair and just;
Heed to your Conscience, God's law-maker within!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-02-12
poem by John Celes
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Oh my lord!
Oh my lord!
Why have you created the evil?
That destroys poor civil.
You are everything my lord
Why don’t you cut off evil with your mighty sword?
Oh lord! Oh lord!
Where are you?
Come back to people who admire you.
Give us the strength,
Give us the power;
That will stop world from being sour.
Oh my lord!
Why did you create poverty?
That is creating more and more robbery
Give us the power,
Give us the will
That will discourage poverty from being tall and still.
Prabal Dahal
poem by Prabal Dahal
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Holy, Holy, Holy
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee;
Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!
Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee,
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,
Who was, and is, and evermore shall be.
Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see;
Only Thou art holy; there is none beside Thee,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy; merciful and mighty!
God in three Persons, blessed Trinity!
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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