The Criminal Doesn't Know When To Stop
-a proverb of the dead of Avalon Cemetery
(In Memory Of The Victims Of Mindless Violence)
You see my brada those smart
Looking smug faced white nonatjies
Rich women bro' neh each
One of them carries a scar
Of humiliation in their hearts
And they know it he he he...
Ek se this is a black man's country
We rob the white ousies every night
We rape them day light nine nine brahs
Djy sien it's easy groot mahn since well
Ons chee ddi garden boy the tjotjo
And we sommer kill the kitchen meit
And ons ginger ddi miesies en ddi kitchen meit
We kill her and sell her heart to the witchdoctors
It makes good medicine to bring good luck
Ons es min geworry because ons
Vortel ddi gatas ddi blokom and the majiyane
Lies to the magistrate and we're out
Ha ha ha
Now the three R's you see there budah...
Rose is a Catholic she won't tell
Rebeca es gekatzenloerie mot a teacher
Hau how can she tell the rubbish
Rose is married to the boepons preacher
Neh! neh my mother's child she won't tell
We rape the white women not caring what
Their husbands will do because we know
Because they don't want to lose their marriages
This is a black man's country
And we kill their dogs and their servants
And then we gang rape the white women and stick
Broken beer bottles in their bleeding poenankies
And we take every thing and we live
And you my brother I am going to initiate you
Tonight we attack the shop of the mememe and then
You see that Susana is the woman for you and we
Will help you and you will rape but remember
She is not your wife to be so you must work fast
And when you satisfied you must stick the broken
Beer bottle in her poenankie remember the last act
Is a crucial part of the initiation of into
The life of a lawbreaker and a fugitive from justice
Here.Touch my blood.Shake my hand you're part
And parcel of this underground outfit'he says
I take the empty beer bottle and smash it
Into his grinning face and I must admit that sometimes
It hurts to be a black man in South Afrca without
Being ashamed of the color of your skin every time
You hear of an outrage of a crime of mindless being
Committed anywhere in our country but we have become
Too used to criminality and corruption and have you
Seen how brazen our criminal politicians have become?
Ann maybe you too my brother would feel nothing
If some idiot armed with a nice broken bottle attacks
Your favorite sister and rapes her in broad day light
But if somebody wants to make love to my wife he better
Find her in the right mood because she is
Armed And Dangerous
GLOSSARY
Avalon.....The largest cemetery in Africa
nonatjies...term of fake respect for a white woman
ek se...I say
ousies...ladies
djy sien....you see
groot mahn....big brother
ons chee ddi...we give the
garden boy...a male worker at the property of the white people who must
maintain and keep the place tidy
sommer.......just
kitchen meit...a domestic worker
ons ginger die miesies...we rape the white woman
en ddi kitchen meit...and the domestic worker as well
ons es min geworry....we are not bothered/we don't care
tjotjo...a bribe
ons vortel ddi gatas ddi blokom...we lie to the police
majiyane...a lawyer
bbudah...term of endearment/fondness
gekatzenlorie mot...married to
hau! exlamation of surprise
poenankies...the female sexual organ
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Related quotes
Kill All The White Man
The white man call himself civilized
Cause he know how to take over
The white man come to pillage my village
Now he tell me I have to bend over
Oh yeah, kill all the white man
No I dont like the white man up in me
He rape my people as he rape my country
Everything I love and cherish, he try to take away
We will be rid of him, soon come the day
Oh yeah, kill all the white man
Oh yeah, kill all the white man
Oh yeah, kill all the white man
Oh yeah, kill all the white man
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shocking
Shockingly the newspapers tell
about the events in the house at the corner,
where nobody could stop black criminals
to violate, rape and kill a white woman,
the story is kept away from television-news,
it is far too crude for the public to view,
where a broomstick was driven into her female parts,
where she lies with legs apart, with her hands clenched together
and her lovely body is covered in blood,
she lies nakedly
with perfect round DD-breasts
and everywhere there’s blood
and the point of the broom had been sharpened before the attack
and this scene of black violence, make me want to vomit.
[References: Photograph of the raped, tortured white woman: Dr. P.W. Möller, “The Mandela-legend, ” Publisher: Dr. P.W. Möller, Jotha Printers (2011) P.48.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Rape Me
Rape me
Rape me my friend
Rape me
Rape me again
I'm not the only one (4x)
Hate me
Do it and do it again
Waste me
Rape me my friend
I'm not the only one (4x)
My favorite inside source
I'll kiss your open sores
Appreciate your concern
You'll always stink and burn
Rape me
Rape me my friend
Rape me
Rape me again
I'm not the only one (4x)
Rape me (rape me) (8x)
Rape me
song performed by by Nirvana from In Utero
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Different People
Two different people
Black people, white people
Black world, White world
A black person thinks different from the white people
White people thinks highly of himself
White people works very hard for his living
Black's are lazy
They don't want to work, they just want the money
You have to work for the money, they just don't get it
White people knows that there are no free ride in life
Black's want a free ride, there are no free ride in life
Nothing is free in life except for the air that you breathe
The white people have to be careful of what they say to the black People
Whatever you say to the black people if they don't like it they will say it Is discrimination
We can't understand them
They have a mind of their own
The white people are loving and caring
What about the black people?
Not a hope in hell
I don't want any part of the black world
The black world is not safe for me
So I rather stay in my white world where I feel safe
We can't trust them
The reason why there is violence in this world is because the black People cause it
Now they don't like it because they have to live with it
We want a safe world for our people
The black people don't care about it because the only thing they know And seen is violence
There is too much violence on TV
They like it
They like the feeling of danger
We white don't like the feeling of danger
The blacks hate the white people and the white people don't like them Either
The white people knows when to shut up
The black people never knows when to shut up
There is why there are always problem with them
They make life miserable for us
The white people will always be a good friend
The black people can never be your friend
They will take everything they can get from you for free
poem by Aldo Kraas
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An American Prayer
I’m gonna kill, rape and plunder
cause I do what I’m told to do.
My government would never lie,
so I do what I’m told to do.
There are little, brown people
who want to hurt me and you;
so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do.
Well, I kill, rape and plunder
so the rich get what they’re due.
I shut my ears to the screams
of the children that I've slew.
Well, they’re just godless heathens
who don’t believe in good like me and you;
It’s alright to kill’em
before they kill me and you.
They hate us for our freedoms-
not because we bomb them night and day
or starve them into submission-
it’s our Christian duty that we slay.
And so I kill, rape and plunder
and do what I’m told to do
cause I’m a loyal American
and I do what God tells me to.
poem by Kendall Thomas
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Black Tie White Noise
Getting my facts from a benneton ad
Im lookin thru african eyes
Lit by the glare of an l.a. fire
Black tie white noise
Ive got a face, not just my race, bang bang Ive got you babe
Putting on the black tie
Crankin up the white noise
Sun comes up and the man goes down
And the woman comes again
Just an hour or so to be safe from fear
Black tie white noise
Then we jump thru hoops, were divisable now, just disappear
Putting on the black tie
Crankin up the white noise
We reach out over race and hold each others hands
Then die in the flames singing we shall overcome
Whoa! whats going on?
Therell be some blood no doubt about it
But well come thru dont doubt it
I look into your eyes and I know you wont kill me
I look into your eyes and I know you wont kill me
You wont kill me
You wont kill me no
But I look into your eyes
And I wonder sometimes
Putting on the black tie
Crankin up the white noise
Oh lord, just let him see me
Lord, lord just let him hear me
Let him call me brother
Let him put his arms around me
Let him put his hands together.
Reach out over race and hold each others hands
Walk thru the nite thinking we are the world
Whoa! whats going on?
There will be some blood no doubt about it
But well come thru dont doubt it
I look into your eyes and I know you wont kill me
And I turn my back for I know you wont kill me
You wont kill me
You wont kill me no
But I wonder why
Yes, I wonder why sometimes
Putting on the black tie
Crankin up the white noise
Theyll show us how to break the rules
But never how to make the rules
Reduce us down to witless punks
Black tie white noise
Facist cries both black and white, whos got the blood, whos got the gun.
Putting on the black tie, cranking out the white noise
Oh yeah
Cranking out
Cranking out
Cranking out white noise
Black tie white noise
Cranking out
Cranking out
Putting on the black tie
Cranking up the white noise
Cranking out
Cranking out
Cranking out white noise
Black tie white noise
Cranking out
Cranking out
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God's Sense Of Humor
And God created man!
Yellow, black and white men
They all love each other?
Yellow men in Asia
Black men in Africa
White men in Europe
All color of men in America
They all love each other?
And God created woman!
Yellow, black and white women
They all love each other?
Yellow women in Asia
Black women in Africa
White women in Europe
All color of women in America
They all love each other?
And God created man and woman!
Yellow, black and white men and women
All living together in a love, hate relationship
All living together in America
With rainbow colored children
Black and white children
Yellow and black children
Who just love to be a free American?
For Drew and Allan
poem by Doris Dzameshie
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Submission (in answer to Don Mattera)
I have seen a white old man and woman
turned onto the street,
living in cardboard boxes
with their small white dog
in the new disastrous improved South Africa,
I have seen white people taking their own lives
when black mine owners robbed them of salaries
and there was no job to get,
no living to be made
and they did this
instead of starting to beg.
I have seen white men and women
with university degrees
leaving the country
in numbers that are more than a million
to find a place to have a life
somewhere else in a foreign country,
I have waited for more than a hour queuing
at a local bank to make a cash deposit,
as a payment to someone
and the way that things are going,
with the black economic empowerment
and people not up to doing a simple job,
soon all of private industry
will be falling apart
as the government departments are doing.
I have noticed friends and family members
who were robbed, hijacked in their vehicles,
raped, tortured and killed
while the South African Police
did their very best to make a arrest
and like in all other things
are not up to it.
I know people who live in despair,
who are totally without hope
while the country’s borders
are flung wide open
to the rest of Africa
to first have a chance at a job
and their degrees and experience
in the face of this means nothing
but not one does bend
under the black heel to submission,
at the mercy of God
their lives go on…
[Reference: “Submission” by Don Mattera.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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I can’t rape.
I can’t rape a woman;
I sing, draw and write about her.
I can’t rape a woman;
I devour her with my eyes, and voyeur.
I can’t rape a woman;
I see her dance, and romance in screens.
A sort of perversion;
Is there any animal who’s pervert?
I can’t rape a woman;
I bring her image in my fantasies.
13.12.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Black Mirror
Black Vs White
White Vs black
the mirror is against me
Or am i against the mirror?
we ARE the black Vs white
we are the dawn, battling the night
we are the stars in the evening sky
and we are the blood spilled in the hollow, dark night
we are brother and sister
Relatives yet foes
we will destroy each other
for you can't have one without the other
you look at me
i know your story
we will each scream in pain
and scream for glory
and watching the blood spill down your skin
i clutch your hand as the light dims
in killing you
i have killed myself
we are each others own personal black mirror
and as we fall down to the grave
i look at you as you try to pray
we may both die
but i have won
for the dark always covers the sun.
and as you cry while i clutch your hand
i whisper in your ear, so only you may hear
Dear brother, brother of mine
you are my black mirror
and now it is time.
poem by Kiele Kane
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Why Me Only?
Rape here and rape there, rape is every where.
And country is become a big Mogul Harem, my fear;
Rape in the village, rape in the town:
Rape in sari, rape in gown:
India, secular, socialist and democratic:
But of late has become a rape republic.
Rape on an infant, rape on an old:
Rape of a student, rape of a tourist, told:
Rape by a friend, rape by an enemy:
Rape by majority, rape by minority;
Rape by the rich, rape by a poor ward:
Rape by forward, rape by backward.
A paid rape and a free rape,
A group rape and a compulsive rape,
All are socialist and secular,
In this perversion, hateful;
Daily it is breaking news,
Still there is no emotion to view.
I had survived, from among the dying,
The rapists reached to rape me, trying;
In my mother's wombs, unborn, I was a fetus;
No safe corners hide to shun the pain, tedious;
As I got a shape of a beautiful moor,
The dark sheep are there to maul my contour.
'This single act ends my own life, ' is one,
Where all the pains reside;
Crushed by the mis-fortune of some deadly sin-
Can't be washed by greatest win.
I lifted but hated my self here,
'There's no solace any where! '
"It is a dark spot, where all light spent,
All darkness! " cried I, Intent;
It hit me hard to graceless mutiny,
I was hideous, hopeless without scrutiny;
I sat, where night never ends;
Heaven's radiant show never lends.
poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma
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The secret war that is raging in South Africa
The secret war that is raging in South Africa
asks for white blood,
these black people first kill and torture
before they take your possessions.
Incident upon incident I can tell about
where white families have been killed,
just think about the Orffer family
who was killed in Stellenbosch
on Friday 31 July 1994
by black people:
First the trustworthy black maid Sannetjie,
who tried to ward off the attackers with her bare hands
like a Amakeia of days gone,
then the blonde small girl
then the dad and the deaf little boy
and last the mother
were chopped with a axe to death
and everywhere there was blood.
Nowadays the tendency is
to first bind up the head of the family,
the man, to assault him
and to torture him to death in front of his family
and then to rape the women,
even toddlers and babies
and if the women are lucky
they survive
when the criminals
leave with their possessions
and it seems as if the police
do not want to, or are not able to stop this thing
and then it is claimed
that these people kill and steal
because they are hungry, while people in government
sings songs to wipe out whites.
From April 1994 when Nelson Mandela became president
the wiping out of white families is our destiny,
the Afrikaner nation is in the melting pot
we who have an own culture, language and identity,
who cannot become part of the hurly-burly
are killed, not only robbed
but tortured and horribly killed
and our women and children are raped.
Even Eugene Terreblancé
had befallen this same lot
and if this is not a war
that is raging against us,
where we are systematically
bit by bit, family by family
wiped out, and the numbers
are already in the thousands, then what is it?
[References: Klaaglied: Stellenbosch, Vrydag,31 Julie 1994 (Song of lamentation: Stellenbosch, Friday,31 Julie 1994) by Lina Spies. Amakeia by A. G. Visser, Amakeia, Amakeia then and now by Gert Strydom.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Good Old Days
I remember the good old days.
The days when a black man such as myself could not even look at a white woman. Remember what happen to Emmett Till because he did.
Yeah the good old days
When a hard working woman named Rosa Parks got arrested
Just because she refused to get up and give a white man her seat.
The good old days
was when a group of men could burn down a of place worship
And kill four little black girls.
The good old days
When a man like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
got killed only because he had a dream.
I often hear people saying I miss the good old days.
But from my perspective those good old days
was not that good after all! !
Amakeia then and now
If ever there were treason
against humanity,
the slaughter of the black woman Amakeia
trying to rescue
the life of the small white child
drives it to the point
Spears raining down
on a innocent woman and child
during the 1834 war
are images that stay
in with me
and I still feel my arm hairs rise,
while I see assegais glitter
in the sun
and a farmhouse
burning down to the ground
and know how much unreasonable hatred
the Maxosas had to have in their hearts
to kill a women and baby child
and even the elements
still try and lull the kid.
II
It’s in the middle of the day and criminals
stand at the door of a house,
as if no Police
or any security
can stop them.
They are armed with weapons of war
and no life
have any value to them
and to murder and rape
comes to them like second nature,
as if demons
are guiding their deeds.
Spare the child,
spare my life
the faithful nanny asks
with tears
running down her cheeks
and with her hands
are trying to protect the small child
and it’s a miracle
if the criminals
note what she says
and if the nanny and child
and are locked in a room
while the most valued things are taken.
[Reference: poem “AMAKEIA” by A.G. Visser.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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I am a rose
What color am I? Am I red, pink, white, oh wait I am black...
Black is the color of many dark secret places and or ideas, which we may never want to enter...
So why do I feel like I am a black rose? Do I have secrets hidden so deep that no one can even sense them?
I wish I were a red and or a white rose. Those two colors can mean many of things but what you find the most is that of marriage...
Red is the color of love and white is the color in which we use mostly for a wedding. I want my darkness to turn to light. With my color of a rose may the light bring out a marriage...
I am a rose of many colors which one are you? ? ?
poem by Kristen Palmitier
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Letter From God
dont call my name anymore.
you dont even know who i am!
no more churches, temples, and mosques,
the wind has no need for a home.
no more battles or wars in my name,
no more judgements bound by your fears.
no more talk of heaven and hell,
till you walk the path before you.
for as long as you kill
to feed your greed.
as long as you allow
children to go hungry.
as long as you discriminate
out of your ignorance...
as long as you take
more than you give.
you do not know me!
you kill my messengers,
or twist their teachings
to use for profit and gain.
you choose religion over love,
believing in instant redemption.
you speak of my wrath,
but the anger is yours.
you try to define my being
with impotent minds.
you're so blinded by selfish desire,
that you do not see me all around you.
the man you kill,
the woman you rape,
the child you abandon,
the begger you ignore....
the young man you send to prison,
or even worse to battle.
the poor you leave in poverty,
the uneducated you fail to educate...
the homeless family,
black, white, red, and brown...
male, female, old, and young.
straight, gay, religious, or not...
the abandoned dog, the stray cat,
the addict, the whore,
the farmer, the factory worker,
the father, the mother...
me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Now You're Here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Of another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
We are very proud of our diversity
Out on the streets it’s very clear to see
We don’t care if you’re a Christian or a Jew
Or a Bhuddist or Islamic or Hindu
‘Cos we don’t care where you come from
We don’t care where you come from
We don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
We’re very proud of long history
And we pay respect to Aborigines
And there’s just one thing I’ll tell ya
Yes, to you and other fellas
That we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
No, we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Of another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
We’re proud of where we are going
You can see
We’re using all our creativity
To build a better future
And we’ll get there soon we betcha
‘Cos we don’t care where you come from
Now you’re here.
No, we don’t care where you come from
Have a beer
We don’t care if you are black or white or
Another hue
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
Now you’re here in Western Sydney
Now you’re part of Western Sydney
Now all over Western Sydney
We love you.
poem by David Keig
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White Skin Black Heart
Yeah, whatcha gonna do now, now that you started?
Whatcha gonna do now, now that its done?
The words got out there, they float around and are coming right back down.
You gonna leave us lying here
Dealing with the consequences of a bad sound
Of a bad sound.
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Whatcha gonna do now, that its spoken?
These words of a habit, have not faded away.
.................... it clear, conscious gets opened like a wound.
If you cant concieve a better line and better times,
Then let silence bury you, in the end.
When you feel it, when you feel it
Youre condemned.
You see, youve lost your strangle on the freedom road! you
Think ........................of something a long time ago! you
[spewed it out you were so] insecure! it was like ............. on
The toilet floor! youre a [nine seat] drunk, ............... and
You say you want something, .......... you heard the rednecks
Roaring for blood and then they wanted more! life was so small, you
Couldnt get enough. you made a start.
White skin black heart
Dripping,
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
Drag your eyes from [aurora] black heart!
White skin black heart
Drag your leg, get outta here [my sight]!
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
You didnt have to start
White skin black heart
White skin black heart
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black and White and Red
Black and White
And Red I see
Demons they do
Torture me
Black and White
And Red all day
The voices are real
Or so they say
Black and White
And Red abound
I'm lost I call
I'm never found
Black and White
And Red flow out
I scream but you
Don't hear me shout
Black and White
And Red so bright
Exit blood and
Enter light
Black and White
And Red of death
Now I breathe
My final breath
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Black and White (Stream XV)
I have black thoughts,
It is a black day,
A day when the black dog
Coal black, hovers at my shoulder.
I shoulder the burden.
Deep in the black hole.
Black as a black hearted night.
Negative.
Stark.
Black and white.
I do not call my good days white days.
Why?
Or have white thoughts
On a white day,
When the white dog
Pure white sits upon my shoulder.
Which is unburdened.
Out of the pit,
Luxuriating in the bright white light;
White as the purest snow.
Positive.
For we live in a too white world
Maybe we should have grey days,
And light days.
Why should Black be negative and White poitive?
For me then, today is a grey day.
Maybe tomorrow will be a light day.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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