Friday, February 8, 2013

Kamau Damali

By Kamau T.Z. Damali
(originally written: June 20th, 2001)

I am our nappy heads, 
Our broad noses & full lips,
I  am our beautiful smiles
And our angry frowns
I am the tears rolling down
Our faces inflicted by
Injustice, hardship and suffering

I am Alkehulan’s (Afrika)
Glory and her failure,
Her happiness and her misery.
Her beauty and her ugliness,
Her triump and her tragedy,
Her tenacity and her docility,
Her  rage and her serenity.
her satiety and her hunger,
Her Perfection and imperfection

I am that Alkebu-lanium king
Who fought against the other                          
Alkebu-laniankings that helped 
The Europeans steal our people 
Arid packed them onto ships 
Like sardines — .
 I am that slave man 
 With the bloody scarred back 
 Caused by years of inhumane treatment and abuse, 
  am that battered wife 
 Who can’t seem  
 To stop crying, 
Who is saturated in pain and feels like dying. 
 I am that Ghetto child
 Who only wants a good education,
 But the odds are his destination
 Is a prison plantation

I am  that melaninated
Freedom fighter committed to
The reconstruction of the
Alkebu-lanian community.
I am that lost
brother man hell-bent
on self-destruction
I am that sister-woman
Who just waits to be
Respected and loved
I am that famous Ebony
Celebrity, that popular
Pro - Athelete
And dirty poor housing
Project dweller/Ghetto resident.
I am that church preacher
Hypocrite masqueraded
In righteousness,
I am that Imarn Muslim leader,
That Voodo, Senterian Dogun Priest,
That Afrikan Hebrew-Israeliic
  And Rastafarian truth seeker

 lam the kind,
 The horrible.
— The grotesque.
 The believer.
 The disbeliever,
, The righteous,
 The unrighteous.
 The humble,
 And not so humble,
 With pride and dignity:

South Africa: A Tribute
By Kamau T-Z, Damali
Originally written: 2007

A glorious place
A conquered place
A diversified place
A place where
HIV/AIDS claims
Millions of lives.
Orphans millions
Of babies
A place where
Poverty is a landscape,
A bully to the down trodden
Where hope is
A paradox
Basking in the sun
Ott the Afrikan Savannah
Where despite
The hardship and agony
Joyous laughter
From young children
Can be heard
Across the country,
The Continent and beyond ...
A place where struggle
Keeps hope alive
A place where Nelson Mandela resides
A place where Aparthied died
A place of beauty
Tn the midsl of an
Ugly tragedy.

The Jungle!
By Kamau T,Z. Dacaali June 2007

Curious eyes
Watch from
A distance...
Screams of happiness
Swing from
Tree to tree
Glides freely
In the sky
Arrogantly strolls on
The terrain
The aroma
Of life & death
Tenderly perfumes
The air
Peaceful one moment
Tumultuous the next
Native hands
Delicately tap
The Tom Tom drums
Radiating the
Jungle's tempo
Its creatures
Of all varieties
To function
With its

To the Oppressor
By Kamau T.Z. Damali
Originally written: June 14th, 1996

I have been doing
Your dirty work for
A multitude of years,
1 helped you terrorize
My people and bring
Them to their
1 watched you as you
Raped my daughter, my
Mother, my sister, my wife.
Debased my lather, my grandfather,
Mv brother, my son and
Made a mock of
My life ... for fun.
1 am here
To let you know
That I am no longer
Your knee-gore,
1 will no longer
Fight in your wars,
Sell your drugs
Nor destroy my community
With your guns
I will however,
Fight your injustice,
Oppose your oppression,
And struggle to uplift
The New Afrikan community
Out of its current
Depression ...

Against the Odds!
,By Kamau T.Z. Damali
Orignally written: May 2007

Crying rivers over
A matter long gone
Out of control
Backed up against the Wall
Caught up in a twilight Zone:
Devoured by the
Hungry mouth
Of poverty
Stumbling over
Body after body
No escape:
Swept away by
Furious tides of sorrow
Hanging on for tomorrow ...
Confused over how
To overcome misery
And depression
While aiming for progression
Moving forward
On both feet
Going toe to toe
With oppression
Becoming more and more
As courage compels
Me to battle
Against the odds

Working to Survive
By Kamau TZ Damali
Originally written June 2007
Up and ready
At 4:30 
Every morning
The local steel mills
To put in some
Work to feed
His family..

Sweating Black
From the ashes
And fumes of
The machinery
Working for less
Than ten dollars
A hour…..

Ho believe he
Deserves more
But the Boss man
Isn’t tying to hear it

Approached at lunch break
By a co-worker
To join a union
Arid protest unfair wages
And working conditions…

Intrigued by the idea
But can’t afford
To miss work or
Jeopardize his job
Because his lovely family
Depends on him
For food and bills.

 He regrettably turns
Down the invitation..

He glares at
His hands
Evaluating bruises
Left by the stell,
The drills
 The hot flames,

In Shame
He puts his head down
And goes
 Back to work..

Composed by Raynell D. Morgan
Aka Kamau Tebogo Zulu Daniali

I hove been one of Amerikka’s prisoners for over 400 years,
The blood and tears of my people are her lakes & rivers,
She claims to be the apotheosis of liberation,
When fact is, she enslaved two-thirds of the Black Nation, plundered the Red man
Of his land and placed him on a reservation,

I can still smell tile fresh blood of Afrikans & Natives, who died in Ameriltkka's hand
from years passed because they wanted to free. And I can still hear the crescendo
speeches from the brothers & sisters of the 50' s & 60" s who vociferated: I am man, 1 am a
woman, as they marched in the street.

Blood shot eyes from cold emotions & sleepless nights;
I can’t recall me last time I cried… I can't recall the last time I laughed…
Angry frowns in the faces of the prisoners, definelong life struggles….
Ancient memories as a youngsta; ~
Warm hugs & kisses from the embrace and lips of my mother.

Screams from new bom babies spell revolution ------
Conscious Black men driven in hope & rage, in search of a solution…

Generations of young Black males with high esteem & dreams of going to Harvard or
Yale but instead they end up in one of Amerikkkars prison cells.
Look at me, my face is the face Amerikkka doesn't want the world to see;
Listen to me, my voice is the voice Amerikkka doesn't want the world to hear
Who Am I?

I am that brother, that Alkebulanian man whose mission is to break Amerikkka's chains.


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