For Example…

Like no CD collection is complete

without Tumi at the Bassline

and The Decibels

As no Negro is educated

unless aware of the Mis-educated

Like no Autumn leaf hears a Birdland Lullaby

without changing chords

As no Rasta is such

with judgement in the pupil

Like no clique is unlike

a flock of birdbrains

on bling and time

Pure wool dress by Metere de Scotche (FaceBook @ Metere DeScotche Preview),
worn by Kholofelo Mamabolo.

listening to afternoon radio eng kgopotsa re gola

isgela s’valiwe

nge weekend

mid morning, banyana ba fryfa di tupu

sporting the latest mgusha

ya di red carpet»

concealing hairstyle

ka dinako tsa di peddle pusha le boom shaka

aowa, la tseba hore ke bolela ka'ng

re skoppa daai bolo to seek and hide bo black bai patileng

ke mmotse gore ong suna leng

phela nna ke tletse wena

go na le playstation eng kemetseng

ende g’dala si yi pusha le ndaba le

now they have cell phones®

Thabiso wa ga Nkoana2011©11.16.12∏12™

Merry Christmas...

They say this is the time around which Jesus was born

They say we should celebrate this time with illustrious vacations and elaborate gifts for loved ones

They say our world should be decorated with glittery ornaments

After all that jazz... (June 16)

So it came and it went

Another holiday

So it came and it went

Another struggle

So it came and it went

Another life

El Reggae y el Hip Hop en Español: Tracing Reggaeton

El Reggae y el Hip Hop en Español

On tracing the history of Reggaeton, we need to follow the path of reggae and hip-hop, chronologically, from their creation to their present state[1].  In particular a look at how these genres affected urban music and were interpreted in Latin America.  Looking at the progress of both these genres in this manner will inevitably lead us to this new genre taking Latin America, and the world, by storm.

 

Back to the Future

A time will come when the world looks to the south for redemption.

I see,

in a different tomorrow,

Our future generations holding the great throne of peace.

Covenant

 We have been asked to put it to rest

Let it doss

As in intransitive verb

Allow it to sleep in rough or inexpensive accommodations

Reflecting upon it is evidently absurd

Nor should we be insulted by their suggestion’s denotation

Again

Another golf estate

Another BMW, another Mercedes

Another face filling sunglass

Another house sized belt buckle

Another unprecious metal

So many things,

Truth Be Told...(part 1)

My words tend to be abrasive

sometimes abusive.

They are painful and will wear you down

it’s like sandpaper versus toilet paper

do yourselves a favour

find comfort from your neighbour.

And please kids

only try this at home

when you’re all alone

or with friends over the phone.

See, this stage is mine

don’t even try

to challenge my poet R. Y.

my imagination will give you piles;

Independent Democrat

Let me begin by declaring,

this is in no way a reference to the propensity toward a capacity to assimilate.

To claim dis membership

an account of The Lilies

to curry flavor the west.

Untitled...(We and Air)

I dare them to kill Obama

I dare them to find Osama

I dare them to give me a SAMA

I’ll spare them

if they drop the price of Rama

We scare them with intellect

We scare them with Afrikan aspects

We scare them with rebellious dialect

We’ll care for them

if they learn our context

I don’t get it...

Simple questions sometimes strike my mind

And most begin with the word why...

Why does my ass always itch in public?

Unlike my pubic

I cannot disguise it with my hands in my pockets

But when I’m chilling in private

The itch never arises,

I just don’t get it.

See No Evil

There you have it

your dark continent, with its dark people and dark practices

There you have it

your savage chanting, by savage beasts in civil spaces

There you have it

your unintelligent, spirit invoking clamour

There you have it

your licentious gyrations, your overpopulation vindication

That is where you have it.

Performed Poetry

Sereto sa ga Nkoana and an untitled poem.  The sound isn't so awesome, but you'll get the gist. This is at the Baxter Theatre in Rondebosch, Cape Town.  Enjoy...

To the end...

I have asked questions

And claimed stages

I have spoken foul

And failed majors

I have been let down

And dismissed a rainbow in some nation

I have seen them not listen

And condemned double agents

All in the name of changing the ages...

The Fence

True Romance

I have decided that

today will be valentine’s day

so I shall only speak

of romantic love

or is it romanticized infatuation?

Verbal Diarrhoea

I have orated to the lay

about the dangers of AIDS

& how every books page

brings you a step closer to getting paid

I have recited to the rich

about a large poverty ditch

hoping my recitations will stick

so a lifestyle of sharing they might pick

Truth Be Told... (part 3)

Let us revert to the truth.

Truth rhymes with booth

it is time to remove

our budding psyche

from a constrained booth.

Booth kinda rhymes with juice

it is time to overproduce

as a kindred youth

our cerebral juice.

Truth Be Told... (part 2)

I wanted to write a poem

with no politics

I wished to write a poem

with no love tricks

I had to write a poem

lacking rhyming tactics

“Mzansi for sure!”

Night lights at the South African National Stadium, The Calabash, June 2010.

Watching the semi final of the AFCON 2013 (I won’t risk trying to write it out), I am impressed by the elegance of the Moses Mabida stadium.  It makes me proud to be South African, a small consolation to our early exit from the tournament.  And yes, it was an early exit.  The plan was to make the journey the trophy had to travel minimal, non-existent, from the field of the FNB stadium, to the trophy cabinet of the National Stadium.  This did not happen,

Who is Eugene?

His name is Eugene, he rocks dirty jeans and is often seen in a street corner scene trying to feed and clothe his seeds.  He used to drive an AMG and owned a house by the sea.  Schooled his seeds privately and gave his wife a shoe boutique; to keep her busy, so she wouldn't freak.  You know how housewives can be: a lot of time that's free, a strong hunger they must feed, the husband is an absentee... next thing you know, a first year geek is feeding her needs (success comes with a price indeed).

Eugene's was a life of greed, a pot bellied B buzzing from E E, but living life honestly.  Until he met Shabir.