Apartheid In The Ring Poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna

When apartheid reign supreme in the 80's
Invisible cracks below gave rise to a flicker of light,
A show of sunrise, coming through the cracks,

The black American pugilists,
Greg Paige and John Tate,
Given reprieve by the apartheid masters,
Trial of black power on the spot,
White supremacy in the driving seat,

To the surprise of all and sundry,
The black American pugilists,
Punched the apartheid concrete bricks,
One at a time, one by one, each fell thunderously,
Disquieting the silence of privilege,
I punched the air as each brick fell,
In a show of happiness in restraint,
For we could only do so in avoidance
Of the crunch of the apartheid caterpillar,
While our hearts rejoice with honey,
Oozing through our eyes,
Our arms responding in misguided fashion,
For our safely,

In disbelieve, black conscience was cleared,
Of the fear of white supremacy,
As the black American pugilists beat white supremacy
Out of the black SA conscience,
Misguided Apartheid advocates watched
In disbelieve and horror,
I punched the air as each brick fell,
For that is what we could only do
In show of happiness in restraint,
Without placing our heads
Under the apartheid caterpillar crunch,

Greg Paige and John Tate proved to fellow Africans,
That white supremacy is nothing else but white snow,
That disappears in the slightest of heat,
Suddenly the dawn of possibilities
Stopped the air punching,
More punches on the carpet of valour,
At our disposal,
Redirected to the physicality's of apartheid,
Cracks widened as more bricks fell
On the trigger of sustained resistance,

NN 5/05/12