For The Poets (Film)

Survivor

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They go to learn, but instead spend time chanting

They stand to lead, but instead incite

They dress to protect, but instead maim

They work to inform, but instead delude

They…always they

We write to uplift, instead we punch lines

We sing to soothe, instead we mimic

We paint to reflect, instead we autograph

We gather to honour, instead we inebriate

We…always we

Us disgust them

Them annoy us

Us mock them

Them undermine us

Us envy them

Them crave us

Us and them…always them and us

©Thabiso Nkoana 12.02.2009

La Khenya.

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La khenya, le busy ka di politricks tsa bo Thuthukile Zuma

instead of the history ya Yaa Asantewa

No man, la bora

You are more concerned about how some rich, spoilt, moody white boy,

shot and killed his super sexy, super hot, model girlfriend

gona le gore le botse ka Simon of Cyrene

Oh, I forget

you’re too occupied with Israel and Palestine bombing the crap outta one another

occupied with showing your solidarity with the occupied lands of Palestine

between five and seven in the evening, or on weekends

occupied with arranging marches to raise awareness about a family feud

Oh I’m sorry, have I simplified it a bit too much?

Are the Jews and Muslims of Palestine not family?

My bad, guess my mind was a bit too occupied with the current effects of bloody Europe and their bloody asshole “scramble for Arika”!!

Excuse me for wondering why we’re not building a super Afrikan army to go raid them European and American fucks for what they owe!

To quote a certain Riley Freeman,

“You gonna pay what you owe Santa!”

Sheba, bo Otto von Bismarck left a whole Namibia to their descendants, for them to do as they please with it.

“How?” you ask?  By slaughtering, I mean literally slaughtering thousands of the Nama and Herero people of that area.

And you want to tell me about Afghanistan and Iraq, you want to concern yourself with hippie fundamentals based on marijuana induced light bulb moments experienced by barefooted, middle class, pony tail wearing, white and mulato kids and even twanging Afrikan youngsters, whose whole life experience is built around suburban ways or whatever?  Heh? Nonsense!!  The very same hypocrites that shun people because they don’t dress like them, don’t speak like them, don’t smell like them or don’t aspire to the same ideologies as they do. 

“No, we are pigeons, you are an eagle.  Sorry, but you can’t fly with us.”

Tell me about how we fix or get back the more than R60 billion Chris Stals gave to the Broederbond, from the coffers of the South Afrikan Reserve Bank, through the then Volkskas bank, now you’re beloved ABSA?  Tell me that.

Ya, vele! Every time you use their ATMs or get a home loan from them, you’re unwittingly funding the Broederbond.  Remember them?  You think the Illuminati are badass?  These cats took over the country from right under the nose of ol’ Hertzog.  Apartheid?  Their brainchild.

And you want to tell me about a twenty five year old anthropologist.  Ga!  Let her dust the skeletons of her own closet, better yet, let her reveal the hidden artefacts of this department of envelopes and cell phones.

Let’s talk about Libya’s debt.  Let’s ponder how and why Haiti had to pay France.  Let’s debate how much England and its royal family actually owe Mzansi.  Hell, let's take five minutes in our day to speak to a homeless cat.  Just talk to the person!  Buy him or her some fruit, won’t cost more than R10, I promise.  Find out why that girl in your office or class never smiles.  Tell the sky it looks pretty today.

Meanwhile, I’m gonna find me a rich anthropologist to knock up.

Peace in Philippi Streets.

Six le Nine.

One session

Two stories

Three charlatans

Four lies

Five sets of random mutterings

Six concerned shitty-zens

One Rolex

Two roads

Three bumptious suits

Four development plans

Five blankets

Six tin roofs

Seven plots

Eight ounces

Nine mouths

One voice

Two attempts

Three barren bellies

Four berets

Five dick Tasers

Six questions

One truth

Two centres of power

Three ways of livity

Four protests

Five demonstrations

Six charities

Seven non governments

Eight –isms

Nine laws…

Thabiso Nkoana © 28.07.2014

Naftali of the Royal Family 'American Dream' feat. Thabiso

Naftali of the Royal Family 'Keep Pushin' feat. Thabiso at Tagore's

poetic collage

Poetics South Africa "Afrika Is Me" Session @ Bolo Bolo

InZync 2014 Autumn Slam (AmaZink, Kayamandi)

Lexical Semantics: Bela Bartok and the Devaluation of Ethnomusicology

I assume you expect to hear from me, during this presentation, a commentary or account of the content in the essay by Bela Bartok, “The Influence of Peasant Music on Modern Music” (Bartok, 1931), as well as a description of what ethnomusicology is, along with it’s history.  For purposes of keeping within the academic frame, let me not call it an assumption and rather an educated guess (lexical semantics at play from the onset).  I, however, have decided to approach the problem from a different perspective, that is, to look at how lexical semantics might have led to ethnomusicology being regarded in some circles as the lesser sibling in the musicological family.  Indeed the task at hand requires me to at least answer, even if in passing, those more obvious questions stated above.  Why have I decided on this approach?  Quite simply, I don’t believe we’re here to describe or rehash music history.  My thinking is that we are here to offer opinions, question and think critically on musical events, ideologies, history and music self.  In this vein I offer my most humble opinions.

The People Under The Sea.

If no human has ever seen a living giant squid, if we don’t know when and where “…the most gargantuan beast the Earth has yet produced…” breeds, if we have better maps of the surfaces Mars and the Moon than we do of our ocean floors, if there could be as many as thirty-million species of animals living under the sea, if we’ve only sent humans to the very bottom of the ocean once, in 1960, in a metal ball with small windows and no lights, is it too far a stretch of the imagination to entertain the possibility of intelligent life under our oceans?  (With all due respect to them, I’m not speaking here of dolphins and whales, I mean creatures with some or other form of technology).  And if we choose to entertain this inane suggestion, could we not also presume that they are mightily pissed off at us landlubbers? 

Turpitude.

Draconian Alliances buy blackface

with straight hair wrapped in patronising doeks

Another Nation Corrupted

by bald heads rested on impudent, gold threaded pillows

Out of the question!

Freedom Friends fight fiercely for forgotten faces in fancy footwear

while a Congress Of The People bickers over two old faces

 Definitely not!

Azanian People are yet to Move Pan African Consciousness

Prospects are dimming.

Yet still, I shall play along.

Mosiac

my heart is like my mouth, always open

my mind is like my sleeve

cut up into separate sections

be smart, unlike the doubt, laying hopeless

we’re blind despite the grief

cut up into separate sections

For The Poor, By The Poor.

Painting by Thabiso Phepeng, "Jozi".

http://www.southafricanartists.com/showartist.asp?WorkID=66606

Cape Town, 1983, Tricameral Constitution: in addition to the House of Assembly (whites), two separate assemblies are created for coloureds (House of Representatives) and Indians (House of Delegates). 

This is why some "Coloureds" and some Indians and many white people still have a sense of their being superior to Africans in South Africa.  Yes, these days they hide it well.  Political correctness has taught them to grin and bear the darkie, the black, the kaffir, to hold their tongues and watch their manners until they get home, but unfortunately hate and contempt aren't things that a person can easily hide. 

Hi Jack

Jesus Is Not On A Mountain

Truth Be Told (Part 2)

Untitled Piece (So I Swore) - Live

Truth Be Told (Part 1) Live

Who Is Eugene? (Live)

Er ... Eish, I Forgot.

I feel I need to make something clear, for the sake of my sanity and for the sake of exposing artistic and more specifically, poetic charlatans.  

Hip Hop Resident