White Man's House - Poem by Black Consciousness Poetry BCP

Cape town is exile
It's a lock down, a maximum prison
The darker shades are in mental cages
21st century slaves
Cape town is a white man's house
In his house;
there's no justice, no peace for the darker shades
We are not living well
We are catching hell while he is catching fish
The method is so stylish
Hidden behind a flowerish English
To romanticize the black man's anguish
The language is politically insane
It's not about black and white they say
Classism more over racism is the mask of the day.
So let us unmask this day.
The past gave birth to this day
Slavery, colonization and Apartheid is that past that
systemically made blacks a lower class.
Clearly the white mans heaven is now the black mans hell...

Today; cape town is still a white man's house
No wonder why the black man lives in the dump side
He lives in khayelitsha, Gugulethu, emfuleni.
He lives in Phillipi, Samora, Nyanga, Dunoon, he lives in Joe slovo
That's a white man's dump side
In mitchels plain, in eersteriver, kuilsriver, hanova park, grassipark, in mannenburg
You can mention many of them
That's a white mans back yard
That's where my lost coloured class dwells
When the morning swells
Hunger & poverty strikes
Whether backyard dwelling or dump side living
Our insignificant differences both lose meaning
For both we must go beg the white man for a living
Spent day time hours of kneeling.
in his house, In these government buildings, Sanlam buildings
Bp&shell garage stations, in these Anglo American mines on the African soil, In these London Mines known as Lonmin In Marikana, in these retail stores
Rapped up uniforms
kneeling and begging
Paying the price of being black
Working ourselves to retirement and to death
Busy managing and maintaining his wealth.
robbed of our self-worth
Blacks all over this earth reduced to
domestic workers in service of the white mans breath.
For all we do is clean his house
This cape town
When the night falls, we have to live town
In over crowded taxi's, busses and trains
It's a lock down
We can't be there around that time
Doesn't that sounds familiar?
Memory should be our best friend
For the white man prefers a dog at his side
A reminder for those who strive to befriend him

|Mufasa|

Poems by Black Consciousness Poetry BCP

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