Thursday, May 5, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Echoes of the streets
ECHOES OF THE STREETS
Echoes of the streets wake me from my sleep
Groans of kids sleeping next to garbage bins and under bridges
With cardboard boxes folded to form mattresses
Survival of these souls is nobody’s business
None is interested in their well-being.
Echoes of the streets wake me from my sleep
Pictorial view of this young boy sniffing glue
Feels rejected hence is subjected to drug abuse at this tender age
Death of his parents saw his life change course
He dreamt of being a doctor maybe an engineer
Unfortunately the streets became his destination
Now his fate remains unclear.
Echoes of the streets wake me from my sleep
Visuals of this young boy in tattered clothes
I poignantly gaze at his toe-out shoes
As he cautiously strides through the morning dew
Looking set to take his place at the corner of this store
Where he can commence his daily chore
‘Ke kopa 50 cent ea lijo’
The sorrow-filled song he’ll sing for the rest of the day.
Echoes of the streets wake me from my sleep
Reflected images of shabby looking kids
Distinct mindsets who share a similar story
The sad story of how they ended up in the streets
The story of being abandoned and neglected by their families
Yet now they are tagged with names, lihobo mekopa-kopa
Forgotten citizens of this country.
© Letuka Verbal Saint Qabalatsane
Thursday, November 11, 2010
KUYA BHEDA
My linguistic daring has not always
been candid to the splendour and luxe
of emotional escapism,but the tables have
turned it's time for a revolution
The feeling of my recent vision has
got me staring at this pole that concealed
the goal from the earthlings of my soul,
my veins flow profusely to deliver but...
This feeling is bald,unsmiling and cunning
like a man who would sell an alibi to
King kong on the Empire State building,
as i lift my patterns of memory and push
down the invisible sleeves,something says NO
My visions slide across the walls of dry
lavender saying this words aloud:every
desire is fear and all success is difficult
to overseer
The devils bill is a buried treasure
and the vivid dance lits up his bones,
as the entirety of my skill grows who
am i not to be
To be that which transcends the shadow
of Africa lining between the path of my legs,
here i am with a dream inside shaking inside
of me,vum vum,feel the transport of my happiness
abound.Ha u fihla kea fihla.da principal
©Semy da principal Ralebitso
upon xenophobic attacks in May 2008 in SOUTH AFRICA.. xenophobia is evil all the time..just coz i have a dark skin tone and speak a different langauge from yours- doesn't mean im not human
1. war-torn mind- sets of African Black Seeds
Black man where is your black horizon?
Black man where has your black pride gone?
Africans, are we still fighting for revolution?
We are so confused like a teenage girl
Writing each New Year’s resolutions,
But never living up to any of them!
We seem to be stuck between two
Supernatural walls, that’s why we are involved
In xenophobic attacks and civil wars,
Black man where is your black horizon?
Why do we have to turn our beautiful
Motherland into a war-zone?
Our atmosphere stinks of storms of violence
Africa is falling apart, yet we sit in silence
Enjoying painting rainbows with our very
Own sisters and brothers' blood
Truly, we need our forefathers' guidance!
We tend to embrace war like the pain
Of slave-trade, yet we still claim to be free!
Black man is brainwashed, his mind fed
With western life-type ideology
Neglecting his own black thoughts
And African living methodology
Subsequently losing his roots completely!
Insulting his black intelligence
Spitting over his own black inheritance
Why do we have to live in chains of violence?
We cross and swim in rivers of blood,
Children’s eardrums violated by vibrations
Of guns gazing, bullets piercing bodies
Like brutal words piercing souls we die in wars,
Think of Steve Biko, Oliver Tambo and other
African superheroes that fought
For our freedom, think of our forefathers
Who died during the slave trade era,
Black man can't you see this
Western ideology only reflects ‘pop-psychology”?
Black man, if we are truly free
Why do we have police protecting service?
Why do we have to flock at the police stations?
Why do we have violence as a talking-point on our
Broadcasting networks and radio stations
Yes, we are civilized ugly nations with love
Of GOD out of the picture, peace and harmony
Sunk into oblivion, obscured by hatred
We are just oppressed, colonized African citizens
Segregated by boarders, political parties, national flag colours
But most sadly by our own skin colour
©MPOBA KNOWLEDGE MONYEKE
16 August 2008
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