The people
tangwena says
this is our land
soiled by the blood
of black centuries
Smith says
the white tongue
goes bang bang
black must learn
words of a new march
Tangwena says
every tree here
is made in the image
of a black ghost
Smith says
the white tongue
goes bang bang
you must make your ghosts
in the image of new trees
Tangwena says
i am a root too deep
for the white man’s
knife and fork
Smith says
the white tongue
goes bang bang
roots must take up
their beds and walk
Tangwena says
tangwena tangwena
Smith says
white is right
corn cropped
from the old dead
belongs in the pockets
of the powerful
otherwise
what is progress
Tangwena laughs
The mountains catch
His laughter
And turn it
Into streams
The white tongue
Goes bang bang
The streams glide
Into african mists
Tangwena laughs
Till it hurts
Smith is afraid
Of the laughter
The white tongue
Goes bang bang
Speaking in blisters
With great pain
Tangwena goes on laughing
Related poetry:
- LINCOLN, THE MAN OF THE PEOPLE WHEN the Norn Mother saw the Whirlwind Hour Greatening and darkening as it hurried on, She left the Heaven of Heroes and came down To make a man to meet the mortal need. She took the tried clay of the common road Clay warm yet with the genial heat of earth, Dashed through it all […]...
- Bones Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot Tell you, Dr. Jones- The most peculiar pain I’m in- I think it’s in my bones.” Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith, That’s nothing. Without doubt We have a simple cure for that; It is to take them out.” He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith Close-clamped upon the table, […]...
- Laughing Corn THERE was a high majestic fooling Day before yesterday in the yellow corn. And day after to-morrow in the yellow corn There will be high majestic fooling. The ears ripen in late summer And come on with a conquering laughter, Come on with a high and conquering laughter. The long-tailed blackbirds are hoarse. One of […]...
- Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode Are they clinging to their crosses, F. E. Smith, Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses, Are they, Smith? Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding, Wait the news from this our city? Groaning “That’s the Second Reading!” Hissing “There is still Committee!” If the voice of Cecil falters, If McKenna’s point has pith, Do they tremble for their […]...
- Merry Autumn It’s all a farce,-these tales they tell About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o’er field and dell, Because the year is dying. Such principles are most absurd,- I care not who first taught ’em; There’s nothing known to beast or bird To make a solemn autumn. In solemn times, when grief holds sway With […]...
- The Icecream People the lady has me temporarily off the bottle And now the pecker stands up Better. However, things change overnight Instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke The nights change, new Complexities: We drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint… We park […]...
- The Secret People Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget; For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet. There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully, There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we. There are no folk in the whole […]...
- Do People moulder equally Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live As I, who testify it Deny that I am dead And fill my Lungs, for Witness From Tanks above my Head I say to you, said Jesus That there be standing here A Sort, that shall not taste […]...
- Yes, the Dead Speak to Us YES, the Dead speak to us. This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall out, when one says the Dead spoke a Yes, and the […]...
- Longevity Said Brown: ‘I can’t afford to die For I have bought annuity, And every day of living I Have money coming in to me: While others toil to make their bread I make mine by not being dead.’ Said Jones: ‘I can’t afford to die, For I have books and books to write. I do […]...
- A Song of the Republic Sons of the South, awake! arise! Sons of the South, and do. Banish from under your bonny skies Those old-world errors and wrongs and lies. Making a hell in a Paradise That belongs to your sons and you. Sons of the South, make choice between (Sons of the South, choose true), The Land of Morn […]...
- Crimson Changes People DID I see a crucifix in your eyes And nails and Roman soldiers And a dusk Golgotha? Did I see Mary, the changed woman, Washing the feet of all men, Clean as new grass When the old grass burns? Did I see moths in your eyes, lost moths, With a flutter of wings that meant: […]...
- People To those fixed on white, White is white, To those fixed on black, It is the same, And red is red, Yellow, yellow- Surely there are such sights In the many colored world, Or in the mind. The strange thing is that These people never see themselves Or you, or me. Are they not in […]...
- What the People Said (June 21st, 1887) By the well, where the bullocks go Silent and blind and slow By the field where the young corn dies In the face of the sultry skies, They have heard, as the dull Earth hears The voice of the wind of an hour, The sound of the Great Queen’s voice: “My God […]...
- People Who Must I PAINTED on the roof of a skyscraper. I painted a long while and called it a day’s work. The people on a corner swarmed and the traffic cop’s whistle never let up all afternoon. They were the same as bugs, many bugs on their way- Those people on the go or at a standstill; […]...
- Zapolya Song (Act II, Scene I, lines 65-80) A sunny shaft did I behold, From sky to earth it slanted : And poised therein a bird so bold Sweet bird, thou wert enchanted! He sank, he rose, he twinkled, he trolled Within that shaft of sunny mist ; His eyes of fire, his beak of gold, […]...
- Sing All Ye People! Sing now, ye people of the Tower of Anor, For the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever, And the Dark Tower is thrown down. Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Tower of Guard, For your watch hath not been in vain, And the Black Gate is broken, And your King hath passed through, […]...
- The People ‘What have I earned for all that work,’ I said, ‘For all that I have done at my own charge? The daily spite of this unmannerly town, Where who has served the most is most defaned, The reputation of his lifetime lost Between the night and morning. I might have lived, And you know well […]...
- Silver Wind DO you know how the dream looms? how if summer misses one of us the two of us miss summer- Summer when the lungs of the earth take a long breath for the change to low contralto singing mornings when the green corn leaves first break through the black loam- And another long breath for […]...
- Every Time I laugh Aloud (An Ode to Short People) Every time I laugh aloud, who springs to mind but Johnnie Howard? Cathartic laughter eases stress which Johnnie causes in excess, So when I hum acerbic lines of Randy Newman’s quirky song ‘don’t want no short people ’round here’, I am reminded there are valid grounds for jeering men With little minds. Newman claim’s ‘they’re […]...
- Nightingales Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come, And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom Ye learn your song: Where are those starry woods? O might I wander there, Among the flowers, which in that heavenly air Bloom the year long! Nay, barren are those mountains and spent the streams: Our song is […]...
- The Poet's Forge He lies on his back, the idling smith, A lazy, dreaming fellow is he; The sky is blue, or the sky is gray, He lies on his back the livelong day, Not a tool in sight, say what they may, A curious sort of smith is he. The powers of the air are in league […]...
- Dream Song 5: Henry sats in de bar & was odd Henry sats in de bar & was odd, Off in the glass from the glass, At odds wif de world & its god, His wife is a complete nothing, St Stephen Getting even. Henry sats in de plane & was gay. Careful Henry nothing said aloud But where a Virgin out of cloud To her […]...
- The Identification So you think its Stephen? Then I’d best make sure Be on the safe side as it were. Ah, theres been a mistake. The hair You see, its black, now Stephens fair… Whats that? The explosion? Of course, burnt black. Silly of me. I should have known. Then lets get on. The face, is that […]...
- Dancing Tango Oh, Orlando! Remember the night we danced Quietly on the sands where music Was played? Your words were Wonderers, said quietly In the pockets of my ears. Oh, Esphahan! With your turquoise blue mosques And lovers hiding under the sands By the Zayandehrood and its haunting Blue skies. Still the words did Wonders when they […]...
- When a people reach the top of a hill When a people reach the top of a hill, Then does God lean toward them, Shortens tongues and lengthens arms. A vision of their dead comes to the weak. The moon shall not be too old Before the new battalions rise, Blue battalions. The moon shall not be too old When the children of change […]...
- Dream Song 21: Some good people, daring & subtle voices Some good people, daring & subtle voices And their tense faces, as I think of it I see sank underground. I see. My radar digs. I do not dig. Cool their flushing blood, them eyes is shut— Eyes? Appalled: by all the dead: Henry brooded. Without exception! All. ALL. The senior population waits. Come down! […]...
- The happy household It’s when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks, That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes; Then it’s sleep no more for baby, and it’s sleep no more for me, For, when he wants his dinner, why it’s dinner it must be! And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great […]...
- For A Coming Extinction Gray whale Now that we are sinding you to The End That great god Tell him That we who follow you invented forgiveness And forgive nothing I write as though you could understand And I could say it One must always pretend something Among the dying When you have left the seas nodding on their […]...
- The Pigeon Shooting They say that Monte Carlo is A sunny place for shady people; But I’m not in the gambling biz, And sober as a parish steeple. So though this paradisal spot The devil’s playground of the rich is, I love it and I love it not, As men may sometimes fall for bitches. I lazed beneath […]...
- Reapers Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones Are sharpening scythes. I see them place the hones In their hip-pockets as a thing that’s done, And start their silent swinging, one by one. Black horses drive a mower through the weeds, And there, a field rat, startled, squealing bleeds, His belly close to ground. […]...
- Munition Maker I am the Cannon King, behold! I perish on a throne of gold. With forest far and turret high, Renowned and rajah-rich am I. My father was, and his before, With wealth we owe to war on war; But let no potentate be proud. . . There are no pockets in a shroud. By nature […]...
- I Hear America Singing I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics-each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong; The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work; The boatman singing what belongs to him in […]...
- One Year When I got to his marker, I sat on it, Like sitting on the edge of someone’s bed And I rubbed the smooth, speckled granite. I took some tears from my jaw and neck And started to wash a corner of his stone. Then a black and amber ant Ran out onto the granite, and […]...
- Jones's Porvate Argyment That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He’d swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin’ loans, And git along without ’em: That bankers, warehousemen, and sich Was fatt’nin’ on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin’ meat and corn, all which Draw’d money […]...
- The King The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains, Shall come into his own! His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden, To songs of yore re-sung. The woods shall wave on mountains, And grass beneath the sun; His wealth shall flow […]...
- The Settler 1903 (South African War ended, May, 1902) Here, where my fresh-turned furrows run, And the deep soil glistens red, I will repair the wrong that was done To the living and the dead. Here, where the senseless bullet fell, And the barren shrapnel burst, I will plant a tree, I will dig a well, Against […]...
- Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
- Jazz Fantasia DRUM on your drums, batter on your banjoes, sob on the long cool winding saxophones. Go to it, O jazzmen. Sling your knuckles on the bottoms of the happy tin pans, let your trombones ooze, and go hushahusha-hush with the slippery sand-paper. Moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome tree-tops, moan soft like […]...
- I Am The People, The Mob I AM the people the mob the crowd the mass. Do you know that all the great work of the world is Done through me? I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the World’s food and clothes. I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons Come from me and the Lincolns. They […]...