The Day than it still remains of Africa (1)

After all our lives don't pass of miserable colonialisms.

The day of those state-failed, of the soccer stadiums inaugurated.
The day of the generals and of their militias that militate in their laws and they dictate the existence of the most merciless slavery.

Where the foreign appetite continues to corner the black always in the same I disenchant stagnated, canned of the sardines. Caged blacks electronically encapsulated. The new ones White that arrives is more terrifying than the previous ones. The new settlers are bestial trappers of what remains of the abandoned ships, shipwrecked, rusty.

Some in the caravels, other with piranhas and more others of torn eyes, of jade coveted, decorated. The sarcastic caravels with the amazed face of crow’s gaggle: He "arrived the hour of Africa." Yes! He arrived the hour of Africa, of Angola. The prisons massive of the new liberators resumed. Other and more other process of the fifty began. They appear in the horizon more and more contesters nail her it the continuation of the promised freedom, forgotten.

«There are "no human conditions in the cells. The one that worried was not me my detention but the detainees' situation with whom I approached there inside. The washing youth of cars for instance, it was arrested without process and other similar register. He takes the risk of there to be in the forgetfulness. There are other similar cases that there are to weeks and months without some register.
The prisoners were very solidary. They twisted that I left to moderate here had been the unjust situation the one that are submitted. They sleep in the dry ground. Her in conditions doesn't breathe due to the bad urine smell. It is eaten same there" his message" concluded». Detention of José Gama.
Edna Van-dunem Club-k

Africa of the churches and of the religions tumultuous, deceiving.

Police and armies are, they will be a fiasco. Did they forget, for life owners of the power?! Is THE power in Africa of families, of parents that force, do they uncover the children to the hunger. And the imposition of the illiteracy is idiom is dominance. The People are recycled as the garbage of the sanitary embankments. And they are not the rains that destroy Luanda, that deform Africa; they are the commissions of the task works.

Africa burns, she has water and some firemen but the value-add it is ineffective to extinguish the fire. Africa is the Luxury of the fires, it succumbs in the conferences. Always ill to form smoked sausages, wine-coloured, stigmatized of the colonial regression.

"Who doesn't take the deposit of the generator or the own generator electrical to the position of sale of fuels of Futungo, in Luanda, it doesn't take gasoline."
Mesu Ma Jikuka

Image: Luanda, one authenticates nursery of mosquitoes. Weekly paper AGORA.

In the incipient democracy until the dogs are hypocritical

This civilization is very developed, they say. But we didn't lose the habits of the age of the stone.
The religion and the dictatorship are the handcuffs of the mind.
The dictators don't leave the democrats to rest.
Screams of the death in the dark night. One more hungry person than he said good-bye to the dictatorship.

I need a key to open the seven keys of the lock of this dictatorship.
In the incipient democracy until the dogs are hypocritical.
In the modern societies the prisons are always with the out of print capacity.
The corners of the politics fill with adventurers.
We always lived in the fear, that the prison of the night in the gown to the door.
We are always to relive the moments of Monte Christ's Count.
The best party politician is the hunger, and this is the best counsellor.
The vultures are in the power, but the albatross is in force them.
The military columns move forward in the dawn. They will send candies to the hungry persons.

The hunger is proportional to the politicians' speeches.
If more petroleum there had been, there it had arrived.
There is always further on a ditch, one more oil well.
Until the deaf he hears murmuring of the promises of freedom.
The structures of the power are rusts, they will fall for maintenance lack.
The cruelty is the dictators' Bible.
To feel the wind of the freedom an open window it is enough.
We are as birds caged in the dictatorship.

Until the deaf starving she gets to hear the noise of the hunger.
The incompetent ones are eternalized in the power, but they are not eternal.
The waves of the sea rest in the sand, the dictators sleep in the quicksands.

The night finishes, the morning begins, and the day of the power doesn't end.
The light of the lights blinds us, they stole the lamps.
The secret bank accounts are for some. The hungry persons' bank has many deposits to period.

I fear that tie me the thought.
Many generals little democracy.
The religious sects give us the fallen food of the sky, the great corporations remove us the petroleum.
Friendly! Of the high of this palace million of hungry persons we meditate.
I am still in the prison as Monte Christ's Count but, of there I will leave.

Pic: http://ingridcerveira.blogspot.com/

Mother's eternal love

I escaped from taking, when I saw to steal motorized to the blow. I avoided the sorcery of the cockroaches in single line, and the black cat that always meowed at midnight. Boys and girls burned, tortured, sorcery accused, or used in the roast cannibal ritual. Now, they get complicated for any thing, and they catch fire, or they are shot, they kill themselves of imported scourges.

As Trajano, the empire Bush exported the violence in the reconquest of Iraq. Such and which as before it happened, the retreat is inevitable, and the violence re-export. The magnetic field of this slavery is very intense. To live in the cruelty of this society, it is the self-destruction in five seconds. The death is the short circuit of the life. After a short circuit, the fuses of the death are irreparable.

Of my eyes tears reigned, when I read the announcement of the deceased’s' mass. The prayer, memory of mother's eternal love for his baby… that got to live some months. "My son, 21 years are passed, but actually it is as if it had happened yesterday. My love, words, would be immense necessary newspapers to express, as big it is my suffering. A thing I say, and I will always say: he hurts, it hurts, it hurts, as it hurts, my God. Rest in my peace baby, and that you are well together of ours Lord."

ODE TO THE HUNGER

In the era of the globalization
The world is of the multinationals
Millions of workers
For them they work
The wage is paid
With the hunger

As universal preachers
They corrupt the governments
Everything extracts that exists
Then they say that not
They support corrupt governments
They don't punish the governments
They punish the populations
With the hunger

They continue to extract the petroleum
And the diamonds
They say that democracy doesn't exist
While they wait that such it happens
They are going plundering the fish of the sea

We are going living of their threats
We are corrupt, badly governed
We don't have elections, nor democracy

Meanwhile to happen
We go being exterminated
For the multinationals
The help that they give us
For the payment of our work
It is the eternal hunger

Modern Nazis exterminate
to the hunger
The modern concentration camps
In Black Africa

The empire of the sorcery

Angola is alone for foreigners.

Tuia ko Mussulo Kossota o wanga ko Kaxito. We are going to Mussulo to look for the strong sorcery the sorcery of Kaxito.
In Ângela Ferrão

At this time the suffering of the population of the concentration camp of Luanda, is merciless. The rain falls heartless and abundant. He takes advantage the false engineers' false works, servants that still sip the true dollars that remain of the real treasure very well.

The waters invade the false city of the generals, and Gilgamesh is done present in a Luanda without direction, without sense, without prow. This is one more Luanda of the death. It is silent, human as the rage of the dogs and furious humans.

With conniving governments with any banker, idiot, saddlebag, any entrepreneur enriches from one day to the next. And those entrepreneurs cat-dripped have fun that will be published as of the richest of the world. It is evidenced that who enriches like this, the poor crowd impoverishes. Finally, any stupid is ruling, entrepreneur or banker.

The rulers of the nation’s world actuals are not it. They are criminal highly dangerous.

Almost fifty years…

I hear almost fifty years ago, so many and so many spoken project’s. The short, the medium and long term. Always with surplus value… never any he took place, he will take place.

The victory of the hunger announced by the political commissaries of the economy of the crisis. At this time, the world is a horrible place to live. When the people are stupid, the rulers are smart.
And no longer have countries, nations existed. Only aberrations.
It is interesting to notice that on this time of total destruction, only the injustice works.

The politic actual is the art of as just with words, they are destroyed, they sink in the boat of the poverty of the hunger, nations, worlds.
And after the economic chaos, the Age of the Darkness.
What happens at present with the chaos world economic, it is the evident proof that the politicians and the politics don't have any value. Maybe that in the recycled garbage have some use, who knows.

What happens at present in the world economy, it is like other Vietnam.
The actual world crisis is as a soccer game, among depositing and bankers. At this time the bankers win for ten to zero.
When the militants militate in the economy, the country is of fib.
Without incomes, the slave cannot pay imposed.

Again the process of the revolutionary crisis, in that suddenly so many political commissaries appear, now contemplated medical democrats, for us to cure the crisis

Everything is turned. Now, good government is to empty the public safes. It is to alter constitutions for, already corpses, skeletons; they continue the seating skeletons in the armchairs of the power. Everything is shuffled. Already nobody knows what democracy is. The computer Matrix is there… it governs us.

Pic: Angola em fotos

The rain already arrived in Benguela

The rain already arrived in Benguela
It will rain in Huambo
the children will play
a lot of times in the lakes of the rain
The children will be seafaring
and to navigate at the lakes without life

They don't leave wheat to sow
the fields are cultivated
weapons in them will plant
The problem of the hunger is resolved
they will eliminate us, they won't have expenses
to support us
There is time to shoot, to kill.

My despair of living is close
he is to delay, I know that will arrive
then I free myself

We were born desperate, we grew chained
we wanted to jump over mountains
When a simple hill human
if it turns an insurmountable obstacle
We let to win us, to obey
the any command voice

And obedient we won't expire
we will never triumph

Pic: Angola em fotos

The Cave

Is "Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa militant of MPLA? " "No!.. it is unemployed."

This is good! Without electrical energy, is there economic development?
The great depression announces herself with force uncommon, supernatural. In Luanda the electrical energy left. Innovation is not for anybody, it is not?! Doesn’t she get to work? She doesn’t manage to do anything, clear. Also for something! Illuminated for the caves, we continued arrested in the Marxist-Leninist rope. Our road is only a… for the bottom.

Bank Millennium Angola, recruits trainees for robbery of lands.

Here Angola! A paradise where any recession, depression (but after all the one what is this!?) will it win us, and much less it will convince us.

As it is possible to trust this people, if all have two irresponsible faces. Smuggled and systematic cripples.

And the disturbing snore, death rattle, of the motorcycles continues in the nights of the medieval darkness of the Geena. And where there is no law, the disordered jungle is imposed, enlarged… the fools' jungle.

With our petroleum and diamonds… we went too far. To work the earth?! Gosh! He gives a lot of work, to commission is so easy.

And to deceive the incautious, new words for us to designate old thing.

And it was the corruption of the petroleum of Angola that didn't ferment and it corrupted the bread of Portugal. And he sank definitively of well in ditch oil-producing. And when a nation weakens, the adventurers strengthen.

And the days of the darkness oil-producing waive us, they press in the heavy ones as dense lead.

But, where are the poet’s Angolan bunglers?

Because not to give the administration and maintenance of the system electrical that it supplies Luanda, for instance, to Siemens?

Elections pastime

Insured transport (participation in the operation of vehicles of construction companies, Teixeira Duarte SA, Odebrecht, Chinese, etc.). Free distribution of beer (CUCA) and light foods in the place.  

Supports to the assemblies of Mpla in Luanda. Source  Club-k

 

The difference that exists between a horse and a man is the following: The horse has four paws, the man has two hands and two feet. The man has brain, a lot of mounts no. 

 

Badly to govern is to die quickly, it is a suicide 

no necessary, but it is always present 

It is to play with the fire, to burn, to abandon the people,  

dismissing him of the elections 

He still remains something 

The serenity lost is returned never 

  

If it stole would be rich. This is the only middle to enrich. That they prove me the opposite, there won't be anybody, that he throws me the first million of dollars to undeceive me. Because the law protects them. 

 

The powerful ones are protected and the weak ones failed to protect it doesn't advance to appeal because two legal professions exist One for poor, other for rich… and disinherited them… it was not in vain that this word was pronounced for the first time. 

 

Disinherited… because the powerful ones inherited her it. The warranty of my recent freedom was to shoot for the garbage the technical books left by the colonialists, because in the new life they would not have any advantage. It was as soon as thought in the new revolutionary ideology: only the Marxist books were edifying. The technical books, the Universal Works… they were imperialistic, capitalist. 

 

When we gave for the allure, it was too late 

Return us to the caves, to the tunnels of the spirit without light 

Again in the claws of the vampires 

 

To hear cicada sing… there were not ants to keep. 

 

Pic: Angola em fotos

 

 

  

Three years later

Already three passed years, still initiate for besides the eternity. 

 

In that landscape where you rest, that the bankers still didn't destroy, where you walk with the mother, she reveals the Universe of the silence that in the wait, after so much to walk in the it despairs. 

 

I don't doubt, I am the sure that shortly there will be. It is then will talk, we will smile and we will walk… finally together, united. 

 

Never nobody dies, he is just absent during some time. Without years, without months, without moments. Because in our minds they stay alive, perennial. 

 

And we will celebrate, we will sing, we will eat and we will drink the silence. 

 

And the water of the river reverberate, smoothly caressed by the solar, and it will silver her. And Gauguin will repaint her, it will caress, it will mold. 

 

And in the summits we will fix, we will be, and united forever we will rest.  

And in our minds we will meet again ourselves. 

 

 

  

Angola. He needs her

ANNOUNCEMENT OF VACANCY

POLITICAL OPPOSITION


He needs her, political opposition to face a political party in Angola that is in the power half century ago.

They are preferential conditions of admission:

Immediate readiness
Honesty
Fearless, as an errant horseman
Initiative spirit
Integrity and frontal manner
To work in spirit of it equips
Dislocations for seventeen provinces
Readiness for contacts with populations in the most hidden places.
The candidate, has all of the conditions created for to act in the land.

Money is not problem. That is what more is plentiful.

They are not necessary qualifications academicals. We are infested - an epidemic - of that. We valued more the experience. Of the academics he doesn't say the History. The historical facts - in his majority - they are filled of individuals with few qualifications, without formation. See her the Portuguese case.
Physical robustness is condition sine qua non. Marshy areas are that they don't lack.

We sent the ticket of aerial passage of here.

We kept secrecy

In the paradise of the beyond

No, you are not like Fernando Pessoa said. You are not reminded just twice a year. In the day of your birth and in the day of your death. You are reminded, conserved every day, in all the moment.

First year. First birthday, other to be reborn

I imagine you in that landscape walk her
Eternally you stare her
In a peace ode and harmony
That in the earth obstructed you
He reminds you of me
I am also in the final going aboard
to lean against me, to lean
to you

Your suits smiles stay
Always presents, inundations
In whispering of the cups of the pine forests
And olive groves

You are in the eternal paradise
of the death
I continue, I await in the jungle
of the inhuman life