[colinbaker62]

Oh Biko !
You were a God among gods.
You were a mighty wall,
protecting many from spirits of darkness.
You were a great doctor,
cleansing much of your people's suffering.
You were a gifted artist,
whose brush glazed the world with optimism.
You were a plentiful oasis,
from which Black Consciousness could drink its fill.
Your very soul eclipsed Heaven's light.
Your skin leached freedom from each pore.
Your hair smelled of hope.
Your dreams swam through rivers of triumph.


Oh Biko !
You were everything !
Angels themselves would
curtsy in your presence.
Come a new dawn,
each blade of grass,
each grain of dust,
each bursting flower,
each fleeting insect,
each rousing animal,
each man,
each woman,
each child,
would bid you
good day.
Within you
slumbered joy,
and love,
and hope,
and courage,
and passion,
and belief,
and desire,
and humanity,
and.........?


Oh Biko !
As a mere mortal,
all this greatness was yours.
So what might we expect from you,
now that you are immortal?





(September 1977, Steve Biko was beaten to death in police room 619, South Africa)

[Anonymous]

Enjoyed the poem esspecially the line "Angels themselves, curtsied in your presence.".... Very well written.

[colinbaker62]

Originally Posted by Anonomous

Enjoyed the poem esspecially the line "Angels themselves, curtsied in your presence.".... Very well written.

Hi anonomous and thanks so much for reading..I'm beginning to think you're following me around.

The poem is basically a deliberate exaggeration of a man who was simply a 'mortal' like you and I. Paradoxically, being beaten to death as he was by South African police has served to immortalise him as a political figure..


Colin

[Anonymous]

Lol,
Im not following you around... you just write alot of stuff.