I Did It My Way
I did it my way, not for the applause but because,
Failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause.
I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all,
So I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.
I was accused of having a stubborn streak,
Just because I wasn’t mild and meek.
Challenging every obstacle placed in my way,
And all the negative things that people had to say.
In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told,
I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold.
Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes,
I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.
To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed.
To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail.
With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day,
Success was mine because I certainly did it my way!
6-7-2014 - Submitted to contest “I Did It My Way” sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
I could care less about the four
corners of insults,
That intelligence invites;
It is always the first straw of
grass that’s grows,
which reveals the popular outcast;
As a youth, I found my image cut down
into this manufactured silhouette.
Drenched in social rain, my peers
had never found me more alienated,
Then when I spoke fluently of diverse
They did everything in their power to provide
a verbal umbrella,
However, the texture remains weak and
This stormy parade that remains’ dripping is
indeed an afterthought,
For within this cranial mansion resides
For the more abstract and surreal
elements of life;
It is that secluded gland which reveals
the renaissance of men, who wear
Now wearing the shoes of a young
A taste of charisma resides in my
However this slight addiction to external
Comes in second to my first drug of
Membership into this fraternity may take a lifetime;
So don’t be surprised when resistance
knocks at your door,
Intimidated by the lion that dwells within
Indeed intellect is the misunderstood
That blossoms sweeter when accepted.
THE ONLY THING I KNEW, BUT IT WASN'T SO NEW
TO THE WORLD BUT TO FEW, THOUGHT OF BRAND NEW
LITTLE I KNEW OF MY WEAKNESS, I THOUGHT IT WAS LIKE STEW
GOT ME TRAPPED AND INTO THE MOUTH IT GOT ME CHEWED
THOUGHT I OWNED IT, BUT IN REAL I HAD LOST IT
TO ONLY THOSE WHO'RE FOCUSED
THEM LIFE IS NOT LIKE MORNING DEW
DETERMINED AND WITH ONE AIM LIKE DORCAS
STICK TO ONE SINGLE AIM OF SUCCESS LIKE JEWS
TO WIN I THOUGHT I OWNED IT, BUT I REAL I HAD LOST IT
THE GENIUS IN EVERYTHING THOUGHT I WAS
SIMPLETON THE WORD I USED IN REFERENCE TO OTHERS
KEEPING TO MY SELF AND PRIDE AS CHARACTER I WAS
AND MINE TO THINK WAS ALL THE BEST TO HIT THE CRACKERS
PRIDE MADE ME OWN IT ,BUT IN REAL I HAD LOST IT.
NOW LEARNED IN FULL AND IN CAPACITY
REAP BEHAVIOUR AND EARNED A CHARACTER
HIT WITH THE ROD OF CHANGE AND REALITY
BACK TO TRACK FULLY LOADED LIKE A ROAD-STAR
AWAY WITH I OWNED IT,NOW WE OWN IT.
I do not know?
(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)
Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:
Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.
He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.
After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.
In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.
Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.
He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.
Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.
On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.
Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.
His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.
In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.
On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:
‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.
Tell my people that I love them.
They must continue the fight.’
Mahlangu died for a cause!
The Struggle Continues…
(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)
In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away
Thank you – Zamreen Zarook
Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.
Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.
People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.
Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.
Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words,
and not necessarily my reality;
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing
You can be who you want to be on any level
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys, or places that some don’t even think exist
They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses whether they are just cases,
or me in the absolute right here
My words exude positive intentions;
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections
and reversed dejection
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul
Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect
according to divine order
They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time
because up until now,
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside –
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words
I do not know?
I can see you up ahead of me
I am following
in your footsteps
no matter how fast I walk
I cannot catch up
your footsteps are bigger than mine
but they were warm
and safe to step in
you turn around
and smile encouragingly
then return to your journey
thank you for your footsteps
when I can no longer see you
they will always be here
pointing me in the right direction
Dora Roimata Langsbury
27 June 2009
Written for my father, Kuao Langsbury, for his 75th birthday gift.
We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,
Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...
These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken
Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"
Manifestations in life come from chosen
application of frequent thoughts in one's mind
Reveals and befalls a person's existence
Resource for combustion the fuel is spirit
This one can learn even if they not humble
All acts come into being through the body
Impulsive are the desires of body
Selfish at times be these acts one has chosen
Passion does carry energy for spirit
yet this life adventure is just one existence
There are many more for the creative mind
This should cause all to pause and be humble
Still those deny that there is a co-existence
carrying on with life never be humble
they all follow the dark path they have chosen
allowing uncontrolled thoughts to run the mind
Reluctantly it does comply the spirit
Paid by his holy sacrifice of body
Unlimited is the source of the spirit
becoming aware of this is to humble
knowing there is more than human existence
Serving only as a vessel the body
placed to carry out the deeds that are chosen
Placing utmost importance on state of mind
Considerations to remaining humble
It provides one with a peaceful existence
thoughtful are all of the decisions chosen
Willing compliant must be the spirit
Stable and balanced at all times is the mind
Righteous and just are the acts of the body
Coming to an understanding in one's mind
Relating all things as is to the body
Ever present to assist is the spirit
a faithful and loyal companion chosen
who steadily remain fixed to be humble
There in part lay a eternal existence
Sought after is a chosen
of mind, body and spirit