Kgafela oa Magogodi
spoja
spoja guide this soldier so he can hear his heart palpitate spit a poem will split up a slit and drop seed grow a riot from the womb there’s more room for twins to be born to double bass grooves birth cries raise volumes the child is home to the scream of drums but beware the potholes in stadium applause easy to wind people up a strong song will stir up a chorus of fury spills into street veins and still the road is black because our backs broke the sweat that made this cat phat with matter-force he milks from the source who feed us weed spoja. spoja guide this soldier
guide this soldier to write from the tongue’s root a rebelation for warriors of the soil find it fertile to walk the street strapped with bass lines that pierce through bullet proof vests we get to the stomach of the talking drum awake earthquakes but our people can’t take a total revolt of taste because we worship pap and chips grown from hands of slaves in potato farms we raise chicks fried from birth to feed the city with chicken holocaust too much beef on history’s plate brings gout to the table you build your home tea-totally but the streets get your children drunk with dread rebelationz who will trust a poet’s ego to carry the nation’s heart beat? spoja guide this soldier
spoja guide this soldier through tough stains at the bottom of the tin stuff workers march left for bread crumbs and their rambos fumble right into bakeries to beg for slave jobs cos toyi-toyi does not pay sweet jobs are cabinet seats you snore against cries of the poor now a BEE brat wants to be a socialist poet for a hobby and drop sleep talk into ears of wretched relatives but his poor a tree falls flatter than the sphinx broken nose who knows what those pharaohs saw to mistake us for cotton pickers. spoja guide this soldier
spoja guide this soldier see through shopping mall mirrors who trick us sons who sold grandpas for cigars same as liars lead us into asgisas rule us from the golf course of course slave drivers’ hobbies tax us for fleece masters in texas negroes grow afros dig garden spades of combs into cornrows fashion slaves parade led by hair dressers overdose of pose and a national hero rose to the top of praise prose for pedicure flows while dread scribbles are thrown out of the podium for teaching the nation’s children how a good swear word makes verse so bad it bites police dogs in the bum they jump into the idiot box shelter behind the newsreader’s lipstick covers the news of french the sending slaves to be pasta whipped at the world cup but we speak the word ahead beyond twenty ten referees who shepherd games with sjambok stripes draw a map on the skin deep scars no shower can erase no razor will chizkop these lion locks are dread antenna cables of lyrical unrest plug into tongues of hip ancestors speak a dread rebelation through a burning rizzla no lyrical muti will bring the land back if we don’t load it with screeching hot riot. spoja guide this soldier
spoja guide this soldier’s combat lines live long in a song on the sore side of the law jump fences with sling bags of spray cans be graffiti prophets bomb bridges with dread visions no law can cope with quick rhymes of youth kids are true rhyminals killing emcees everywhere there’s a cipher plotting a rhyme against free style but why chain the senses to a rhyme scam now police want to break in through the metaphoric window and commit a crime against poetry but this soldier’s muse is so true it forgives even ugly swine get a beautiful punch line