Madiba (Tribute to Nelson Mandela)

Like a hurricane,

You cycloned a system of greed

And battle for good of your land

All you brawl for,

to keep them in freedom

In the heat of battle

For ‘I perish, I perish’

You take all stones

and serve the course

I bow to the rareness of your guts

Serving chunk of your being,

confined to those walls

of hate and aggression

yet not consumed by any

You only look to the future

and from a distance,

attest to victory.

Though your conscience,

placed on auction

you bid higher and keep intact

I hail to valor of your pride

Without option,

 your oppressors bow

and without mercy,

Your folks call to hit

Nothing stops your grace to the top

for option ceases within reach

Tables turn,

and you hold the sword

yet you shield away

and give your arms for embrace

I sleet to the splendor of your soul

Elambo N. Tamanjong

If I Were

If I slept in the statehouse,

I’d heed more to motions

than words that are said.

The angst that sway the suburbs

would return with fleur of justice:

If I were who they are

 

If I woke up

with pen of bills in my hands

I’d sign hope into life:

Hope ever untold of the people―

Challenging course of flesh,

and rising above walls of greed.

 

If I sat on seat of decisions

we’d settle all matters in concert,

and dreams brought to life.

Children would smile in content,

  while folks nod in reception.

 

  we all would sit together,

If rations were on my table,

we all would have our feel

and if I had bread and wine

I’d share like body of Christ.

If I were who they are,

we all would be who I am

 

 

Elambo N. Tamanjong

Poet