Friday, June 24, 2011

A poem About Everyone

Greetings

I hope today's poem touches you like I was touched when i read the story of an infant who was tossed down a toilet pit and subsequently burnt with newspapers by her own mother. I hope we all find a little love within each of us and show it to the next. a smile goes a long way. Lets show a little love. LETS ALL SCREAM....WE ARE HUMAN!!!!!

Love peace Happyness
Les-T

A Poem About Everyone


I woke up this morning
Thinking how perfect life is
How perfect life is with you
And it made me want to write
A poem about love
About how love
Makes all things possible
Makes all things bearable
How it gives my pen
The charge it needs
To electrify a page
And gives my words
The power to capture your attention…
I wanted to write a poem

I carried on the rest of the day
With this train of thought
Bought into this idea
That with someone to love
Above all else
A smile, a page
A friendly face
And a warm embrace
The world is a beautiful place
A beautiful blank page
Waiting to be painted
With “Dreams come True”
And a candy coated reality…
I wanted to write a poem

I still want to write a poem
A poem about love
About tranquil trees
And beautiful flowers
About showers of hugs and kisses
For every little kid
But between pad and paper
Lies a thick layer of “here and now”
Unkempt promises
That make mothers frown
Smiles being wiped off kids’ faces
With each tear that runs down their cheeks
And keeps me from writing
But I want to write a poem


I want to write a poem
A poem about love
A poem about how
“You can do whatever
You put your mind to”
I told this to my little brother
And he said
“I guess no one ever wanted
To end world suffering”
I said maybe
The world is too big
To fit inside one man’s mind
Maybe if we collectively “put our minds to it”
Our hearts and hands will follow suit…

It’s our hearts and hands
That hate, that clench
That grab, that brutally hit
That indecently assault
That hold down rape victims
That muzzle the screams of infants
That throw them down toilet pits
That dump them in rubbish bins
Or bury them in shallow graves
Its our hearts that keep us as slaves
That chains our hands
That stops us from loving
From writing our young ones
A new tomorrow

I want to write a poem
A poem about love
About how our hearts and hands
Hold and caress
Support and protect
How fathers are neither
Suspects nor pedophiles
I want to write a poem
About how mothers love unconditionally
I want to write this poem
About me and about you
About every little child
I want to write this poem with a smile
Holding hearts and hands
I want to write this poem
About everyone
And not just a chosen few

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Idle minds get maimed after sunset

Greetings

Thank you to all 917 of you who have viewed my blog.I hope you have enjoyed it and it has somehow inspired you to find your voice.Please continue visiting there will be regular updates of the blog.I encourage you to leave you comments, register to get updates sent to your e-mail by filling in your e-mail address above and click submit.

The poem today was first published in the reunitedsiblings' 3rd anthology "Alliance ya batlhanka".It was a great experience working with the siblings and being one "ya bathlanka".To get yourself a copy e-mail Wesley Pepper at wesleypepper@gmail.com.














Idle minds

18 hundred hours
Loyal sheep flock to the slaughter
Anxiously waiting to be IN FORMED
Their conscience formed
In the square images of their idols
Artificial smiles predict
What soap is best suited for the night
This is not goodnight
But an awakening of digital zombies
Who don’t see the light
Hypnotised by flash-lights
True disciples of the lime light
Idle minds get maimed after sunset
As they standby and watch
20 hundred hours
Loyal sheep flock to the slaughter
Ingesting every blood thick second like it was water
My heart bleeds for the soil’s sons and daughters
Walk barefoot feel the earth beneath your feet
We’re caught between a rock and a hard place
Where society judges on looks
Idle minds get maimed after sunset
And the devil is a book
As they merge with the images
That march like soldiers
On an un-awakened earth
Viciously raping virgin minds
That survived land mines
Don’t forget
Idle minds get maimed after sunset
With lethal graphic assault
Urban warriors stay alert
Armed with pads and pens
Explosive poems that reawaken the masses
Our forefathers burned the passes
Defied the powers that be
I be
The monotonous voice
That longs to haunt you
Every time you “click-click”
Quick-quick
Rise from your self induced slumber
Listen to one of the many voices in the wind
Blown over the continent
Like dead ashes over the sea
Remember
Idle minds get maimed after sunset
I could carry on writing
But the sun is setting
On unsuspecting minds
Its getting dark
I can hardly see my lines
The grim reaper is warming up
I’m running out of time
Shit 17hundred hours
And these are the days of our lives.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Cursed

Greetings

thanks to all 863 of you who have viewed my posts thus far. Dont hesitate to leave your comments and suggestions. A couple of you have hinted that they would love to see more of my paintings and I will oblige. Dont forget to pass the word,WORD!! register to get free e-mails everytime the blog is updated by typing your e-mail address in the allocated space above and click submit....Its that easy

Love Peace Happyness
Les-T


CURSED


My children are cursed
An unborn forsaken seed
Semen of the beast
With twisted tongues
And no claim to language
And 'they' ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this piece in English

My children are cursed
With fading root lines
And too much white lines
Brain washed by white lies
Propaganda in an electronic box
Subliminally fed to their minds
Through your Tel lie Vision screens
Visions scary
Future seems hurried
Of the present we are weary
And still they ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this piece in English

My children were cursed
When we traded our animal skin for cloth
Our spears for guns
Our locks for straight hair
Our rituals for sermons
With pale-faced missionaries
Masked with the black book
False prophets that civilised
‘The uncouth animals’
With false promises
At the cost of their land
And they still ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this in English

My children are cursed

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

genesis

GENESIS
LES-T

I would’ve called him Genesis coz he was my first
He would’ve killed my arch nemesis with just one verse
Have the crowd hanging on his every word
The first always means the world
From the first day at school
To my first cigarette pull
The first kiss I got after school
First time I felt a girl’s breast was by the pool
Still remember the first time I got laid
Or what I bought when I first got paid

I would’ve called him Genesis coz he was my first
He would’ve killed my arch nemesis with just one verse
The perfect daddy’s little man
We would walk to the park hand in hand
Teach him the little I know about art
Remind him of the day we saw he could stand
But when she fell pregnant she didn’t understand
She was scared of what her parents would say once she started showing
So she had an abortion without me knowing
And took away my first

Friday, June 10, 2011

This is a color picture of Jennifer Mars please help find her

Anyone with information as to her whereabouts please call 0726764503 or 0848407879
My prayers go out to the Mars family. Let us all put our efforts together and help this family find their daughter!
Love Peace Happyness
Les-T
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!

Fw: To My Love

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!


From: "Lesley Masenya" <LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com>
Date: Fri, 10 Jun 2011 14:33:36 +0200
To: <lest560@mobileemail.vodafonesa.co.za>
Subject: To My Love

I did not know that love lives

Walks and breathes life

Into dying flowers

Holds hands with the fallen

Wipes their tears

And disinfects their fears

With each soothing kiss

How

Could

I

Miss

All this

 

I did not know that love eats

At the un-mentioned doubt

Until its skeletons shout

“I believe”

I didn’t know it feeds

On every stolen kiss

And silent stare

Until something was amiss

How

Could

I

Miss

All this

 

I did not know that love reprimands

Has a firm grip on things,

That beyond the fairies

The butterflies in stomachs

Cloud 9

Love has a realistic high

With both feet on the ground

How

Could

I

Miss

All this

 

I did not know that love has me

Clasped with both hands

Cushioning me against

The world’s blows

Not letting harm come my way

 

I did not know that love has a name

As beautiful as hope

I did not know love was human

I did not know

That love

Was

You

 

 

 




Directors:
T Daka (Chairman)*, JP Ndhlovu*, Y Kwinana*, SP Mzimela*

*Non Executive

Company Secretary – SAA Corporate

SAA Technical (Pty) Ltd               Reg. No. 1999/024058/07

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Dear Crack

Sometimes honesty is hard. Especially if you have to be honest with yourself.

Love peace Happyness
Les-T

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!


From: "Lesley Masenya" <LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com>
Date: Wed, 8 Jun 2011 14:05:16 +0200
To: <lest560@mobileemail.vodafonesa.co.za>
Subject:

Dear crack

                                                                             Lesley Masenya

 

When we met, you made me feel on top of the world

A feeling that was short lived

And I later learned could never be attained again

You promised pleasure

But never spoke of the pain

And it was the pain you caused

That brought me back to you again and again and again

Sounds stupid now I admit

But you convinced me you’ll take it all away

Little did I know that when you said “all”

You meant my furniture, my career, my loved ones

And everything that made me ,me

You took my passion for art

And replaced it with your greedy, selfish desire

For instant gratification

All I lived for was to satisfy this desire

Disregarded my morals

And didn’t care

You took all that I have

All that I am

 

Now that I have left

Why won’t you leave me alone

Is all that I gave not enough?

I say “gave”

Because now I realize that is what I did

I “gave’ you power over me

I “gave” away my money to be with you

I ‘gave’ you my house goods

You never took what wasn’t given to you

After all that you still won’t let me be

You still haunt my dreams

And I have to constantly stop myself

From thinking about you

What we had wasn’t healthy

It left me broken

Feeling like half the man I should be

And every time

I tried to leave

And, you somehow

Lured me back to you

It left me weak

And uncertain of my future

 

Now that I have the strength

To stand up and leave

You still trying trying to drag me back

To the gutter that I have freed myself from

If I had the means

I would throw you

And anything related to you

Into a bottomless abyss

So no one else

Can lay their hands on you

 

 

(to be continued)

 

 

 

Lesley Masenya | Chief Planner | Planning Support - SAA Technical

 

Mobile: 082 413 7568 | Phone: +2711-978-2061 | Fax: +2711-978-2285 | E-Mail: LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com

Room 257, 2nd Floor, Hangar 8, SAA Technical, OR Tambo International Airport- Johannesburg- South Africa

 




Directors:
T Daka (Chairman)*, JP Ndhlovu*, Y Kwinana*, SP Mzimela*

*Non Executive

Company Secretary – SAA Corporate

SAA Technical (Pty) Ltd               Reg. No. 1999/024058/07

Monday, June 6, 2011

Fw: Untitled

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!


From: "Lesley Masenya" <LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com>
Date: Mon, 6 Jun 2011 13:00:03 +0200
To: <lest560@mobileemail.vodafonesa.co.za>
Subject: Untitled

Happy Monday Inspired Beings

 

Love Peace Happyness

 

Les-T

 

 

Untitled

                                                                Les-T  Da Last Souljah

That’s all he thinks about

The raw of the crowd

Him spitting those words

That says what his about

Mic in one hand

Them nodding like they understand

His the only one feeling the pain

But his on stage pouring his heart out again

Screaming at the top of his voice

‘let it rain’

 

That’s all he thinks about

The pain of these words as they come out

The words staring at him and shout

As he pages through his little black book

Words giving him the look

Pages worn out like an old bible

This is his only source of survival

Spot light getting too hot again

Him standing there thinking

‘let it rain’

 




Directors:
T Daka (Chairman)*, JP Ndhlovu*, Y Kwinana*, SP Mzimela*

*Non Executive

Company Secretary – SAA Corporate

SAA Technical (Pty) Ltd               Reg. No. 1999/024058/07

Friday, June 3, 2011

Fw: African Warriors

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!


From: "Lesley Masenya" <LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com>
Date: Fri, 3 Jun 2011 11:55:17 +0200
To: <lest560@mobileemail.vodafonesa.co.za>
Subject: African Warriors

Good Day all

 

It has been brought to my attention that the Picture could not be viewed by a lot of people. Our Technical department is workin on it and promise to re post the picture on Monday…please accept our sincere apology…hope you enjoy the weekend and the next piece….

Stay Inspired

Les-T

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

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

 

 

Lesley Masenya | Chief Planner | Planning Support - SAA Technical

 

Mobile: 082 413 7568 | Phone: +2711-978-2061 | Fax: +2711-978-2285 | E-Mail: LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com

Room 257, 2nd Floor, Hangar 8, SAA Technical, OR Tambo International Airport- Johannesburg- South Africa

 




Directors:
T Daka (Chairman)*, JP Ndhlovu*, Y Kwinana*, SP Mzimela*

*Non Executive

Company Secretary – SAA Corporate

SAA Technical (Pty) Ltd               Reg. No. 1999/024058/07

STRENGTH-oil on canvas

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!


From: "Lesley Masenya" <LesleyMasenya@flysaa.com>
Date: Fri, 3 Jun 2011 10:51:49 +0200
To: <lest560@mobileemail.vodafonesa.co.za>
Subject: STRENGTH-oil on canvas

 

This is a painting I entitled Strength. I found peace and strength from doing this painting

It’s a my interpretation of a photo of the legendary Abdullah Ibrahim. I did at a time when I

Had an internal struggle with self tryin to find me

The text on the left read:

Brave

Are those

That can

Stand up

Against

Themselves

And win

Rage against

Darkness

And sin

 

The text on the right reads:

Strapped hope

To my

Shattered

Knee

And

Told

It

“run

With

Me”

Image0013

 




Directors:
T Daka (Chairman)*, JP Ndhlovu*, Y Kwinana*, SP Mzimela*

*Non Executive

Company Secretary – SAA Corporate

SAA Technical (Pty) Ltd               Reg. No. 1999/024058/07