I thought I'd copy/paste the text of it for you. An actor walks upon the floodlit stage of life wearing a mask of an angel beneath a demon's gown. Pretence smiles upon the crowded hall of life holding out hope as bright as it is false. Son of a woman in whose veins flows the blood of ancient Ireland and dark Africa's plains. You are Obama, nick-named the standing king You are Barack, oh, son born to deceive The suffering hoards of Africa look up to you, See a black saviour where nought but a Judas strides. An entrapper of nations, bringer of dismal war Behind the robes and the nylon wings of hope Oh, may those who look upon you, see you as you are. May those who hope in you behold you as you be A prince deceitful to bring down Africa's shrines A siren who leads Africa's ships onto rocks of obliteration. Your rule my lord will not be one of peace Your reign my king will not be one of smiles Even as we speak in caves both dark and dank Enraged fanatics plot your dark demise They will put around your head a bloodwet martyr's crown Oh black Kennedy following the one before May God forgive thee and thy fiery spouse As you walk in silence from the stage of life Barack Obama, blessed son,Oh standing king.
It isn't 100 years old, and there are, in my opinion, significant questions as to who actually wrote it. The first time this poem was online was on David Icke's forums on December 12, 2008. It is attributed to a man named Credo Mutwa. It went onto a couple of other minor forums on the 12th and 14th. From there, it was on another conspiracy theorist forum on December 15, 2008. On the 16th and 18th, Icke posted this on two more sites, directly, citing himself as a primary source. It has been given numerous names, such as The Naked Emperor and From Spirit. Neither of these show up in Credo Mutwa's officially published works. From Wikipedia: Whomever wrote this originally, it appears to be primarily driven by David Icke, though, I have no clue where the 100 year old shaman part came in. Perhaps because it was written when he was 87 years old, and people decided to round up? In any event, this is the context for the poem.