The Sepulcher Speaks Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

now that you have my heart
leave my hands to tell the
story with no end. it starts
with the princes of the dream.
they were able to dream and do.
they have now gathered on the
hill and they are going to
deliver to us the people whose
dream did not happen.

I am not sure how the selective
mind allows some people to show
up at the right time and gather
after the cockroaches have done
their night work. when the leese
in the pot is down there and
doing the work of the remaining
essence that the ants have not
devoured and carried away into
the hole the white cloth
remains in the sepulcher saying
here lay a prince whose dream
happened all over the world, listen
to him.

he is also one who can make it
happen for you, just wait and
see for this health bill that
is going to be shredded is not
doing it for you. you need to
follow the ants and go and share
what is yours for we are aware
you are a suffering twenty two
million.

when we are done recreating the
dream, you will buy real stuff
and go down in history as the
dream that made it happen only
for those who now seat on the
summit of the hill and dream
more.

princes of the world, you have
nothing to lose but your businesses,
for I tell you a one better than
karl marx is on the way to
deliver a bill that will cure all
the sickness in our land.

live and let live and then allow
others to allow a bill to pass
and then in this sepulcher the
trusted ants will dig deep and
break down the last of what will
remain. next time you see them
they will be carrying the falsified
loot on their heads thinking it
is a bill that will save them
from all the misery of today.

I say this for I have seen the
remains lying in here, come and
disappear as each prince whose
dream happened lays them down
with the stroke of a pen.

first they tried to fill prisons
then they saw the ants were not
equipped with wrists that could
be shackled for they had cut them
on the lynching tree. now it is
the hour to share the loot on
the hill with bright lights and
the man who is called after his
own house on the hill remains
the one who will laugh loudest
for he chose to laugh last.

that is why I am telling the
story as it is so you are not
for it all ends here within
these four halls. if you
can listen to a tell it all
this is one for I am a true
witness.