Yesterday came to a screeching end with zero production. i dont know what is worse , me being lazy or plastering it on a blog for all to see


Please do stop and stare
I do care!
Please do stop and stare
I am not like you
I also don’t like you
I don’t look like you
I don’t talk like you
I don’t walk like you
Yes my pants sag
I know my hair makes you want to gag
Do comment about my music
I like it loud
Even though it makes you sick
My nose is wide
My lips thick
No one wears it quiet like me
My complexion tanned
My skin thick
Your insults bounce off me
Please do stop and stare
I am not like you
Please do stop and stare
I do care
It affirms our differences
Our emperors wear different fragrances
Their robes from different designers
Mine from the sweat of miners
Yours from the blood of minors
So please do stop and stare
I do care
Stop and stare at these hands
They not stone throwing
But mind blowing
Every time you clutch your purse a bit tighter
I grow a bit mightier
So please do stop and stare
I do care

questions

someone please tell me. do i write for my own sanity or is it to please my audience? Is my pen an extension of me? is my brush just an accessory?Everytime i struggle with a poem its because i read it and ask myself will my readers like it, will they relate? seldom i ask myself if it reflects how i truely feel inside



Is it that poets
Write in the dark
And recite with their eyes closed
On a stage with broken glass
No. I will pass the microphone
To the next
Baggy pants wearing
Rebel with a backpack
Let him hang himself
With his string
Of uneven words
And his poorly constructed verse
Come tumbling down on him
Like the twin towers
On deaf ears
Chained to format
And slaves to a rhyme scheme
And so
As his voice breaks
Over the sound system
So does his limbs
And his heart beckons
“Say something!”

Between meaning and pride
Hand betrays heart
Life imitates art
Heart overwhelms mind
On a quest
For inner peace to find
The illusion of life
Starts to seem real
The mirage goes on overkill
You can’t ignore the pain
As you long to love again
Then it hits you
Like petrol soaked rags
In a Molotov cocktail
And the after-burn
Leaving behind
The elusive stench
Of inspiration
When
For once
The artist
Is the subject

tribute to my ex

Forever is a very long time
And time has a way of changing things
They told me
And it rings true
When I think of the times me and you
Used to take long walks
Through taxi ranks and shacks
Whilst holding hands
And thought it was romantic
Then things got hectic
And you told me
You don’t love me
Anymore

But baby remember the time
We were dripping in sweat
Me inside you
You inside me
You said love
I said love
And we made love
Promised forever
Forever will be together

Remember the times
We used to fight and reconcile
Kiss and make up
We put it down in poetry
Called it
‘Bliss this misery’
And laughed about it

I hate the memories these grey skies bring
It was raining when I bought you that ring
Asked you to be my wife
And you couldn’t imagine life
Without me

But baby you should’ve told me
That your forever was just 2 years
And spared me the tears
The heartache
And headaches the after
You should’ve told me
That the ‘we means us’
These vows were written on water
And spared me the bullshit forever after

You could’ve spared me
The money I used
To buy that symbol of ‘our love’
That you so conveniently lost
Do you know how much that ring cost?

You could’ve spared me
The embarrassment and humiliation
Of having to tell my parents
We have broken up
Three days before kentsa magadi
Imagine ragadi
Looking at me with those big eyes
Asking me what happened
And I couldn’t answer

You could’ve spared me
The ‘aagh shame Joe are you ok’
I got from my boys
Who didn’t know what else to say

You could’ve spared me
But you didn’t
Now I had to find me peace
Through poetry
Like we said
'Its bliss this misery'

You were my Goddess
And I guess
I was just Icarus
Who flew too close to the sun!

day three





a lot has happened since my last pots, from me having the worst day of my life to going to the beach with my girlfriend. which leaves me asking myself a lot of questions...


well let me explain





I am a recovering addict and my journey has been a little less than easy. I have had a feww relapses since rehab. by relapse i mean using drugs for a day then fighting on the next day and staying clean for months and then havin a slip again. its tiring but i will fight on...

this also leaves me with the question. will i ever deal with this?

and coming back to the challenge i had set for myself, well i failed!
dismally so

the first challenge

today we bathe in paint... I undertake this task with full knowledge that my laziness might or most probably will be the cause of me not doing it. but i will try nonetheless. I will not allow my this to deter me i will fight hard...

the cahllenge?

to pick up a brush and start a painting today... i will upload the progress tomorrow!
i already have a canvass prepared(ok i prepared it months ago and never got around to painting). so all that i have to do now is paint.

here goes nothing..may the art gods be with me
and to all critics >>>>>>SAY SOMETHING

Stay Black

Les-T

The Page

2009/05/12

Again it stares at me
As religiously as it always does
Begging for truth and honesty
The white background
Purely unblemished
Seeking substance
From a hollow man
Seeking understanding
Where it can

As her big brown eyes
Catch my pen’s attention
And her lips beg
For my affection
Painstakingly finding
A way to my art
Her words paving
A way to my heart

And I sit there helpless
As much of a victim
As a suicide bomber
That never had a final prayer
But wrote Ode’s to his rebirth
…now I have to be
A true mind down to earth
Admit defeat in the eyes
Of a black princess

For what is written
Is more true
Than what is said
Carries more weight
In my hands
So I carry it
With both hands
And give a voice to my heart

That organ
We attribute feeling to
And let it sing
Let it sing
Let it sing
Because the hand
Has already betrayed it
And the lips
With every kiss said it
So let my heart sing

Let my heart sing
And with every pen stroke
A heart beat
Let my heart sing
The song cupid
Placed in a poet’s heart
Let my heart sing

day two

yesterday was a non-productive day, the challenge i have set for myself seems harder than i had imagined. i didnt pick a pen nor a brush but none the less i would be posting some of the poetry and paintings i did a while back. still looking forward to reading your comments.

Stay Black

Les-T

no talking on the dance floor

No talking on the dance floor
Les-T(da Last Souljah)
They danced the night away
Proclaimed undying love on the dance floor that day
Deep house got them in a trance
She had never felt so much romance
She was 17 and he was 24
But there’s no talking on the dance floor
She wanted to leave but he wanted more
Dj mixing like never before
She says I have to go
He says its 3.30 stay till 4
And there’s no talking on the dance floor

They danced the night away
He twisted her arm on the dance floor that day
Green bottles got the best of her in a way
She fell in love on the dance floor that day
She fell for his lies and a lot more that day
She couldn’t see her friends anywhere
He said where do you stay I’ll take you there
But there’s no talking on the dance floor
So he said lets move closer to the door
They got one last drink from the bar
Cos he was taking her home in his fancy car

He played that song in the car once more
Made them feel like they on the dance floor
The road didn’t look familiar anymore
She tried to tell him
But he said shh… there’s no talking on the dance floor
As they walked up the stairs hand in hand
She staggered and realized she could hardly stand
Laughed it off and sang that song again
He said are you ok there’s just one more floor
She smiled and whispered
There’s no talking on the dance floor

He carried her the rest of the way
And into his flat and offered a drink she said I’m ok
He played that song and they started dancing again
She felt he was her knight in shining armor
The one who took her pain away
They started kissing had that song on repeat
They made what she thought was sweet love to a deep house beat
He went down on her and even kissed her feet
Her attempt to ask if he had a rubber before the score
Were silenced by his finger on her lips and….
There’s no talking on the dance floor

He struggled to get it in but she was willing
She felt the pain but couldn’t ignore the feeling
She wanted him and he wanted her
So they let the necessary occur
They danced the night away
She lost her virginity that way
The way he moved and touched her brought them to climax
Her innocence and inexperience reminded him of his ex
Or should I say his last conquest
But there no talking on the dance floor

As he took her to the taxi rank in the morning
He said he was late for work and would call her
You would think she had bruised knees
The many times she fell for his lies
As she turned to kiss him
She took what was to be the last stare into his deceitful eyes
All she ever got from the man she thought cared
Was a beautiful baby boy, twenty rands taxi fare
And a cd of that beautiful song
That made everything seem right that was just so wrong
This is how she lost everything her parents had worked for
But there’s no talking on the dance floor.

2009/04/16
Les-T (da last Souljah)



Love is a rabid dog
From hell
That bites all in sight
Ripping soul from limb
Heart from reason
Leaving all diseased
With this infectious curse
Love is a Pink hearse
That leads all men
To their untimely end
Spiritually
Emotionally
Literally
Or otherwise
Love is you neighbor’s
Old rusted car
You always wonder
Why he still keeps
Love is that
Patched up doll
With one leg
That we just can’t
Throw out
In hope
That one day
We’ll find
That missing leg
And all
Will be alright

Finding PeACE

this is a painting i did a while back, i was in a bad state of mind thus it is called

Finding Peace

.

THE POEM ON IT READS

(left)

Brave are those

that can stand up

against themselves

and win

rage against darkness

and sin

(right)

strapped hope

to my

shattered knee

and told it

"run with me"

african warriors

African warriors

Les-t


My pen bleeds
When I think
Of all these unwanted seeds
Conceived through
One moment of passion
Now cast away like weeds
Left to fend for themselves
In this garbage bin of life

It's hard to survive in the urban
Wearing you poverty like a turban
How do you feel within
When they seek
A better day in your rubbish bin
Fighting off the cold with their naked skin
With the latest edition of the SOWETAN
As their only weapon
They’re all African warriors within
With blunt spears
Trying to stab their grim reality


Chanting their songs of war
On cardboards
“No food
No clothes”
Fixed at the corner of
Your roads like billboards
Watching the lives
They wish they had drive past

My pen bleeds
When I think of all these unwanted seeds
Conceived through one moment of passion
Now cast away like weeds
Left to fend for themselves
Father-less
My father also left me
With one pair of shoes
And I knew I was destined to lose
I called him and he told me
He had nothing to lose
Like my existence wasn’t good enough

My pen bleeds
'Cos I feel their vibe
My pen bleeds
'Cos I am a part of that tribe
My pen bleeds
'Cos their situation
Is unlike my rhymes
Unrehearsed yet versed
In broken dreams
And silent screams
And
My heart cries
Because this situation will not end
Before my ink dries

day one

This is harder than i thought it would be, my aim is to write a poem and paint something every day inorder to improve my skills. i would really appreciate any criticism and comments from anyone out there who may bump into my blog... and oh jah that beautiful picture is there work of a very talented photographer mr Hein Grobler check out more of his work on www.heingphotography.co.za . so here we go i will post my first work now