Echo Of The Drums

Alright alright hold your horses!
(they came with the foreigners too) .
We all suffered, we all lost,
I'm talking about us blacks, but we cannot
erase, delet or undo the past, hence:
Those with a past have a problem.

They gave as much as they took,
and we accepted as much as we rejected.
Let us go find ourselves, and our assegais first,
before we march in rebbelion.
Let us go find the purpose for which
we had those spears, for which
we spilled the blood of others, for which
we were the way we were;
and find a way to be, now.

Let us fight our moral decay
and our greed and our loss of true values,
let us seek the lessons of the land.
Let us become what we can,
let us not blame white men, for we can
write and we have flight and we can
Wersternly heal, yes we can run a mile,
on wheels, dammit!

No, damn him!
But deal with him,
dance with him,
and we will strike him
with his fire spears
and metal birds at dawn!

We have his weapons now,
we have his golden cow;
let us not praise him,
let not our dogs pray on him,
but let us pull the paper-pyramid
from under him and make him hear us.

Let the drums echo though his walls,
let the Iron curtains fall,
and let them sing for us all.

by Nkululeko Mdudu

Comments (4)

The narration is very lively. Nobody likes to be in the prison but everybody reaches there out of certain circumstances. Nobody can expect a prison to be a holiday home. This is natural. Even if all the people and parties cried for a better prison environment, somewhere it is never fulfilled. A prisoner is always seen as only a second rate person. Man won't accept him like his very neighbor because the man in the prison has a tag about him. This is the difficulty. Who created that tag is another question.
And when your feet dry and you find yourself being puked on by more bad beavers than you can shake two sticks at just remember what yo momma told you the first time Oprah rolled her fat ass out of the ocean, 'These grocers are rubbing my tits a bit too hard.'
Charlie, you truly inspire me. Your poetry makes me want to get a tattoo just like yours. All my life I've been amazed by the story of Charles Manson and I see him as somewhat of an American Hero. You're my hero, Charlie. Die pigs.
again, a beautiful poem from charles manson...CHARLES IN CHARGE! ! ! ! ! ! ! !