Africa Speaks Reasoning Forum

the shadows of king leopold ghost
still around the kongo,
when the portuguese snatched
people from the kongo
central afrika,

from blood and stone,
we are not alone,
like the ship of amistad,
we have revolted for 500 years and more,
rheziku aryans talk about the holocaust,
when more people died in the kongo
during leopolds reign of terror,

from blood and stone,
they try to tell us not to live in the past,
not to live in sorrow,
and live for tomorrow,

when we have been stripped from
our language,
culture and tradition
and been givena name that is not ours,
they try to erase our history
and possibly our memory too,

when afrikan slaves jumped into the oceans
it was the blood that washed the lands
and stones crushed our bones,
and the sand burried our flesh,


from blood and stone,
afrika built the industrial revolution,
from central afrika,
the first hue mani came

but from blood and stone,
they keep building high tecch prisons,
with eletronic and wrired gates
to keep us locked up

from blood and stone,
the earth will shake and rattle
with the bones of our ancestors,
and fire will cleanse the earth

out of blood came the stone
that forged the legacy of
million of afrikan rebels
who refused to abide by the status quo,
because earth,itself is battledome,
the occupied zones of north amerika
is the battle zone,
it is a tri dimensional war,
mental,
intellectual,
physical
and spiritual
being waged at us,

out of blood and stone,
like the amina castle in ghana
were afrikan slaves were kept
to be transported across
the amerikas
while the symphony of death
played on.

copyright 2006

with blood and bone,
they took our lives,
with hearts of stone,
they raped our wives,
on nights so cold,
they burnt our homes,
and miles were trekked in blood and stone.

we fought their wars,
with knives alone,
and lost our sons for reasons unknown,
the fruit of our blood,
they took for their own,
and bound our daughters in blood and stone.

but the arkhan stood,
with the coming of dawn,
all eyes were set on the child of bronze,
and hope was found that hope was lost,
for the pride of Africa is hard like stone.

And they that slaved us will wail and mourn,
when the Arkhan fires claim their own,
The rape of Africa will be attoned,
THey sealed their fate, in blood and stone.

-In Blood and Stone,
 We're not alone,
 Til blood is Stone,
 We'll carry on.
 

continued...

from blood and stone,
they maimed,ramsacked
villages up on villages,
but our ancient ancestors
fought with axes made out of stones
we are the rock and they are the egg
what happens
when the egg falls on the stone,
eventually we will crash their bones,

they play with words such as under qualified
or over qualified,
from dafur to somalia
we dont needa mathematician
to calculate the mumber of casualties
we have just to look at the women and children
that are terribly horrified
and the bllod of our ancestors
will rattle and shake under those grounds
that are built under the stones.

we sit by the fire, and read the stars,
and the elders mourn and turn and sigh,
for the ghosts of the past they fail to barr.
Then stands Mwalimu, the oldest of old.
To tell the tale of blood and stone.

"They came with their ships, their haunting boats,
And swept up the riches of our wealthy coasts,
ivory and gold and the shining stone,
and our sons and daughters to carry the loot.

"MAny we llost in the fires of the night,
Still more we lost, in the ensuring fight,
My own son, my blood, I mourn with spite,
tis years since i had his blood on my hands."

They wail to the wind, the blowing gale,
these keepers of wisdom, the fathers of slaves.
the wind whistles back, thru leaf and blade,
and silence accrues, all is the same.
then stands Mwalimu, the oldest of old,
To tell the tale of blood and stone.

"They came with their guns, their fire-spitting guns,
To hunt down the Arkhan, to take his land,
But fire is fire, and water is hot,
And the fire of the Arkhan, to cool they could not.

"Our freedom we won, and new hope begun,
For the sons of our sons, were warriors at heart,
the women still sing of Nkwame the muse,
And Mugabe, Obote, Nyerere the shrewd."

They scream and mourn and beat their chest,
with hand on crotch, they dust their heads,
Tis strange to us, these elders' way,
Joy for pain, they seem to trade.
Then stands Mwalimu, the oldest of old,
to tell the tale of blood and stone.

< Tell us the tale, o African rebel,
   Shout the whispers of the elder's ail,
   Why do they cry, now the ships are gone,
   DOes the African still wallow in blood and stone>

 dare to struggle and dare to win,
caught in the dungeons of amina castles
casted aside,
like lepracies
and forgotten in time,
 history will juddge dem
for their heinous crime.

because from blood and stone,
time will tell,
that they will leave to see their own hell.
ancient egypt is light of the world,
astrological society
who read the stars and the cosmos
above,
today,arabs and europeans
try to whiten our past
and erase our memories,

from blood and stone,
written in the slabs
when landed in the shores
of the amerikas,
from blood and stone,
like pellets of fire falling from the skies
stones like the halley commets
and other meteorites,
will cleanse the earth
and they wont be able to survive.

amazing work
if everyone wrote with the same quality, not to mention passion, the world would understand so much more

BEAUTIFUL poem brother rebelafrika!

I'm going to translate it in LINGALA (the most popular language in the DRC-KONGO), then post it in my 100% lingala-speaking blog which is lisanga-moko.skyblog.com

Awesome poem ;D.

B.K