Mwana Mboka

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Omekongo Dibinga Poetry... | 02 mai 2006

Omekongo Luhaka wa Dibinga...

was born in 1976 in Boston, Massachusetts. His parents were Congolese (ex-Zaire) refugees, exiled for their role in aiding in the liberation of the Congo. Omkongo grew up in an environment that he calls the best and worst of both African and African-American societies', having grown up in a strict African household in an African-American community. He is the seventh of nine children, who were taught to remember they were African, irrespective of where they resided.
Education was highly valued in his household. Omékongo's love of learning led him to study at some of the world's finest institutions, including Harvard, MIT, Princeton, Morehouse, Georgetown, and The Fletcher School, where he received his M.A. in Law & Diplomacy. Witnessing poverty and injustice in 15 countries on 3 continents, watching members of his own family experience police brutality and seeing too many in his community lose their life over foolishness in America has led Omékongo to try to speak for all in his global community who believe they do not have a voice.
Maya Angelou and Abiodun Oyewole are his primary influences. He writes to encourage dialogue and to bring communities together. This has led him to performances across America and around the world in Congo-Kinshasa, France, Tanzania, Cuba, and Canada. His work has appeared on TV and radio in over 30 countries. He writes and performs in English, French and Swahili, and has also used Wolof in his work. He has shared the stage with poetry legends such as The Last Poets, Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, and Askia Touré. He has released two spoken word CDs.
His first CD, A Young Black Man's Anthem: Love, Afrika, and Revolution Revisited won the 2003 Cambridge Poetry Award for Best CD.
His first book of poems and DVD, From the Limbs of my Poetree, has been released in 2005, through Free Your Mind Publishing, which Omékongo founded in early 2004.

Omekongo wa Dibinga aka Young Maya by you.

WELCOME TO THE CONGO

My beloved Congo,

The joke of the African continent
The world's gold, diamond, and coltan mine
Rwanda's concubine

This country of mine,
Poisoned with the swine that is Western policy
Westerners and Asians exploit the riches
But live behind gated communities
With underpaid Congolese security

So they're closing the door
On fractured Congolese faces with one hand,
While robbing her of her resources with the other
And no province is safe
Because some of our own
Corrupted Congolese leaders,
Are involved in this race

But even they can't keep pace
In the face of our Rwandan aggressors,
Annexing our spirit
To their sickened, stricken, sinister soul
To such an extent that to now call eastern Congo,
You must dial Rwandan area codes

While they toy with the possibility
Of introducing Rwandan currency in the east

The United Nations talks of peace
Knowing full well
That peace can only be attained
Through violence

Jean Pierre Bemba
Becoming the Congolese Prime Minister
Can only happen through violence

Child soldiers
Fighting in fear
Of retribution on their families,
Join in the spread of violence

Raping my mother country
And spilling her black coltan blood
Only continues through VIOLENCE

But when I talk to you
About Congolese genocide
With Western compliance
Your response... silence!

I know
Because I used to be just like you,
Sittin' there smilin'
While other folks lie dyin'
Even bought my wife-to-be a diamond
And probably spilled the blood
Of a distant cousin for it
And chose to ignore it

But now I've visited Congolese refugee camps
To find that
There's not even any refuge for refugees
Abandoned Congolese mothers and children
Living in tents
Made out of empty rice bags
While lice drags through their hair

And their daughters
Living in despair,
Start having babies
At 12-years-old
With 50-year-old married men
With no humility
Who pay them $.25
For their virginity
And the possibility of exchange for AIDS
While the World Bank
Gives this absentee father of a government aid

But I'm searching for a cure for both diseases
Because 4,000,000 have died in 4 years
And too many orphans are shedding tears

As they start dying in the street
At 11 years old

Because even though it's hot on the outside,
Their inner spirits are cold
From walking around starving in a capital city
That barely has paved roads

And eating ½ a meal a day
Can't heal that
Living on less than $1 a month
Won't heal that
And since you only see
Israel and Palestine on the news
Y'all can't feel that

So I'm hoping that a thousand words
Can be worth a picture
Because this image of the Congo
May not fit your stomach
But it'll fit your fingers with diamonds,
Your ears with gold,
Your cell phones with coltan,
While newly discovered Congolese oil
Heats your house when it's cold

But y'all still don't give a damn
Even when I talk to you
About Congolese with polio,
Walking as if their left knee
Was glued to their left hand

See there may be a cure for measles and malaria
But there's no medicine for misery
In a country being steered
In the wrong direction
With children dying
From all types of infection
And 12-year-old girls condemned to death
Because rich married men,
Don't use protection
And all of their relationships
End in rejection
It's like the entire country's suffering
From a lethal injection

A second genocide in less than 100 years
That's gone without mention
Along with the fact that we've gone 12 years
Without an election

On the Congolese street
Called the Avenue of the Future",
...That's where my father was tortured
And nearly died in detention
So you'll have to forgive me
When I say that our future looks bent in
The eyes of the people

And I'm also pissed off because,
They say, Long live an independent Congo",
But I don't remember when it ever was

The international community correctly condemns Congolese corruption
By questioning where the ministers bought their cars from
But the world's ears become deaf
When I ask where our invaders got their arms from?

This is the Congo damn it!

And ain't none of it funny
Americans who work here
Say it's a great place to make money
Folks with connections from Bush to Bin Laden
Steady robbin' this country of her resources
Through Lebanese liaisons
Living in the land of internationally sanctioned genocide
Where Pathetic US + Putrid UN policies = Pesticide

Claiming that they've finally brokered peace

But don't let them fool ya
'Cause up til today
We're still diggin' up body bags in Bunia

Because their role in the Congo
Supports nothing but violence
Our continual purchase of Congolese riches
That never benefit the masses--compliance
Possible experiments with untested AIDS drugs
On unsuspecting Congolese--in the name of science
Poems like this to try to wake us all up--a simple act of defiance
All I'm asking for my beloved Congolese people--self-reliance
But when I ask you to help me heal the hurting heart of Africa,
Your response... SILENCE!

July, 2002

http://www.omekongo.com/

Publié par halfcrazy à 02:23:13 dans Congo | Commentaires (0) | Permaliens

Maya Angelou | 06 avril 2006

j'adore cet auteur... vous ne la connaissez peut-être pas mais ici je vais vous proposer un de ses textes que vous connaissez sôrement puisque mis en musique par Ben Harper en 93, si je me souviens bien. voyez plutôt...

STILL I RISE
By Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame - I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain - I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear - I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear - I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise...

I rise.

voici un autre de ses textes qui a illustré le film de John Singleton "Poetic Justice" dans lequel figurent Janet Jackson et Tupac! c'est, à peu de choses près, moi! LPL

PHENOMENAL WOMAN

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them, they think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room just as cool as you please,
And to a man, the fellows stand or fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me, a hive of honey bees.

I say,

It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered what they see in me.
They try so much but they can't touch my inner mystery.
When I try to show them they say they still can't see.

I say,

It's the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing it ought to make you proud.

I say,

It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Publié par halfcrazy à 13:26:17 dans Divers | Commentaires (0) | Permaliens