Being Alive

There is something about being alive
That only "Alive" people do
And they try to teach the living dead
Firmly on their shoulders rests their heads
Their hearts, heavy only with anticipation
There is something about being alive
That only "Alive" people do
Its called
Living
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It was said before
But I feel the need
To say it again
We are not worldly beings
Trying to be spiritual
Rather
We are spiritual beings
Endeavoring to stay strong

At what point
Do we lose ourselves
And forget who we are
At what point
Are we at peace
With the light within us dying
And extinguish the core
Of who we are
Blatantly
Publicly
Stabbing at it
And denying it
Like Judas did Jesus
But what we are denying
Is ourselves

We are spiritual beings
And we need to embrace it
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Find me

Find me amongst the stars
I am the one twinkling with all its might
Not as bright as the rest
But trying to find my way
Find me

I am the diamond in the rough
Waiting to be discovered
I am the virgin bride with a vale
Waiting to be uncovered
I am the poem in your heart
Waiting to be written
I am the love unsaid
From a teenage boy smitten
I am that song in your head
That just won't go away
I am that girl next door
You drool over every day
I am the dream
That you still need to dream

Find me
Find me amongst the stars
I'm the one twinkling with all its might
Not as bright as the rest
But trying to find my way
Find me

I am the husband and father
Trying to make ends meet
I am the homeless boy or girl
Who grovels and begs at your feet
I am the single parent
Who gives all to his kids
I am the little girl
Who dreams of being on tv
I am the boy in headphones
Who lives for the beat
I am the bare feet township
Playing soccer in the street

Find me
Find me amongst the stars
I'm the one twinkling with all its might
Not as bright as the rest
But trying to find my way
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how i started writing

I could tell you
How on a beautiful summer's night
The words came to me
Pouring down like summer rain.
How they forced their way
Not in me,but through me
How they planted a seed in my mind
And pushed to be birthed on paper

How i didnt choose to be a poet
but poetry chose me

How on that night
i wrote my first poem ever
And it was perfect
Every word
Exactly where it had to be
And how these words
Spoke to me
And still do

I could tell you
how magical
and mysterious
The moment was
But i would be lying

The Truth is
i started writing poetry
to impress a girl...
The only thing magical about it
was the stolen stares in class
or when she looked into my eyes
and how slow time would tick by
when we were talking

This has no fairy-tale ending
I didnt get the girl
we didnt ride off into the sunset
But I
Fell
Inlove
With
Poetry
And
It
With
Me

When the sirens stop

Thank you to all who have visited the blog... Stay blessed and please leave your comments.

Your humble messenger...
Love Peace Happyness
Les-T

When the sirens stop
And the smoke clears
When the hurrying feet
Finally come to rest
When the dust settles
Will our fists
Stay indefinitely raised
Or will we some day
Unclench our hands!!!
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Me,you

All that is
All that be
All that was
Is within me
All that is
Within me
Is
You
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Pleasing you?

This is a piece I am still working on will post the finished piece when it comes to me! Have a blessed weekend.
Love Peace Happyness

2011 05 17
Les-T
Maybe I should recite my poems naked
Or write them on a naked woman's body
Maybe if I suggest sexuality in each
I could get your attention
Would you find it disgusting
If I wrote a beautiful piece on a hideous body
Will I be critic on my work
Or the medium I chose to present it on
Would it be bad because it failed to give you a hard on
I sometimes wish poems were written
On a piece of toilet paper
So they are kept short
And can only be recited once
And the only thing recyclable
About them is the paper they are written on..

TBC
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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

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.

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