A tribute to Nelson Mandela

Rolihlahla, mama called him
The innocent troublemaker of the town
He had his life ahead of him;
A future to look forward to

The injustice of the government
Fuelled the raging fire in him.
‘Madiba’, they nicknamed him-
An activist for peace was born.

Equal rights was the target
Peace was the only key
Justice was his drive
His people must be free.

In the fight for freedom
He ended up prisoner,
Locked behind bars
Tagged 46664.

But metal bars never stopped him,
Not the hard labour or even the lime mining
He had a reason to fight
And if need be, to die.

On Robben Island
A community was formed.
A generation of young activists
Who shared in his fight.

It spread on like wildfire
Soon all voices united
The people sang and cried
Free nelson Mandel!

On that faithful day of spring
In the year 1990
When for the first time, a baby cried
Alas! He was set free.

And now, he has achieved his dream
The rest is up to us all
We must be the voice of the underprivileged
46664…it’s in our hands


The greatest leader of our time,
Spent 27 years in prison
How far would you go to help your brother?
How much would you give of your time?

Remember the number,
Remember the man: Nelson Mandela
Because from now on,
It’s in our hands!







© The poets voice~~~ September 2008, All rights reserved.

Language

The element of communication,
To many, a general phenomenon.
The syntax of words,
The phonology, grammar and semantics,
All coming together as one-
One language.

The words you speak,
Meaningful to you
And gibberish to another.
The words you know,
Whether living or dead language
Is modern to another.

The way I know how
To enter someone else’s head
Making them tick,
The way I know how
To go inside their skin
Living as another; a totally different person

The key to open doors,
Accessing the richness of another culture,
Acquiring a taste for the land.
The way your lips pucker
As you unveil your ‘couture’
Or the twitch in your arm on entry into Italian.

So language we must learn,
Making sure
It’s passed down
From one generation to the next.
Consequently, the element of communication
Remains alive and secure.

If I cannot understand what you say,
We can no longer be accepted as citizens
Of the same world.
This general phenomenon
Becomes gibberish to both of us!
Because I don’t understand your language.

© The poets voice~~~ June 2008, All rights reserved.

School day

The sun streams in all its splendour,
Exhibiting a glistening reflection my window and back door,
Its luminosity beaming.
My eyes nictate
For a fraction of a second,
I still feel as though I were dreaming.

Wearily dragging the duvet over my head.
Mouth yawns and hands stretches,
Back elevates slightly as led.

I reach for my phone,
Check the time;
It’s only 6:09.
How easy it is to be mislead,
To think ‘tis time to plant poppy seeds.
But time is not just numbers, it shouldn’t be thrown
Time is precious; very well known.

I snuggle up under my bed cover,
Nestling once more comfortably in my domain,
Eyes shut to keep out the light and rediscover

Sleep takes control.
Drifting away in the world of dreams,
The wind brushes my face and whispers in my ear.
Soft music playing in the background,
The trees tower over the hills.
The alarm rings…

Quietly, moderately then loudly
Ri-iii-nnngg!! I snap out of my daze
It’s another school day!

© The poets voice~~~ June 2008, All rights reserved.

Untitled*

What is wrong with me!?
I look, I see, I watch
I study how they treat each other
But when it comes to me,
The difference is clear.

What is wrong with me!?
Why is it that everytime
Those people only last for a while.
They come and go, never there to the end
Like they say they will be.
Those people who call themselves friends.

Am I just too tolerant and forgiving?
Trying to revive happiness and joy?
Bringing pace where there is none
And showing love where none exists?
Is that it? Is that what’s wrong?

The pain would have been easier to bear
If only less attitude and more words;
Talk to me,
I’ve got ears!

But I look, I see, I watch
I study how they act towards me,
Such hatred and non-chalant behaviour
Yet still, within their group
The difference is clear.

I’ll tell you what is wrong!
You’ve brewed in me fear-
Fear of reaching out to another.
Implanted defiance, the result of your neglect.
Now I hurt the people I should love;
To them I don’t care
I withdraw to my own world,
A place within me where I seek solace.
The confidence to reach out
Is no more there.

So tell me, why?
I’ll tell you…
Nothing was wrong but
Now, at this present moment
Something is really wrong with me!

i'm still looking for a title for this by the way, any suggestions?

© The poets voice~~~ June 2008, All rights reserved.