Thursday, September 22, 2011

Let It Never Be Said By Mugambi Nthiga

When Mugambi performed this poem at Wamathai Sept I was wowed. I was like that is my poem, my anthem. Thats the person I always want to be. That's why I had to post it on my blog. Enjoy.

Let It Never Be Said

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

Coz to sell out is to be bought

And to be bought is to be owned

And to be owned is to cease to be yours

And cease to be you

And I’m not you, I’m me

To deprive this world of me

Is to shortchange the world, and you, and me

And in denying you me, I deny you He

And this gift

That He gave me

that the world may be drawn closer to the Holy Man they denied

The One that died

So that me doesn’t have to

In the first place.

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

That he let go of his Paternal ties

For trophies that dazzled his eyes

Riding on hype and temporary highs

Not realizing he’s bastardizing

Everything he idolized

In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

That he cast a glance at his humble armor

And despised it

Look at the stone tablet of his ideals

And excised it

Recognized the spirit within

And exorcized it

Rewound his flawless DNA

Into what the world said was AOK

Forgot his own standard

And molded it to what the world said it should be

Forgetting that it was in itself what it ought to be

Coz it got him to where he got to be

In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

That he used his gift

Not to honor his maker

But to gather perks and paper

And conformed to the culture that pop dictated

And ate at its table

And bobbed his head to its rhythm

And stepped to its beat

Forgetting He, who put him on his feet

In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

And exchanged something as eternal as finding his place here

For something as fickle as crowding our space with his face here

Who forsook his inherited portion

And gave in to inherent lust for forward motion

Who gave up spiritual robes

For earthly clothes

And the signature of the King

For diamond rings and bling bling

Who refused to stand down and bow down

To He who accorded Him the right to throw down

Underground, low-down spoken truth

In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

That this warrior bowed out,

That this warrior copped out,

limped out, opted out, tapped out

Wore out, fizzled out, gave out

His anointed treasure in exchange for

A trifling pittance

An inevitable riddance

A fledgling semblance

Or a passing transience

Because everything was all good,

And long before he stepped onto the battle field

the battle had already been won

In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

© Mugambi. August 2006

1 comment:

  1. I also have fallen in love with this poem. Great penmanship.

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