Best Rands Poems
Godfrey Gordon Gustavus Gore —?
Was a boy who wouldn’t shut a door!?
Winter came in that year of yore-?
Sleet blew in and covered the floor. ?
Summer came with its bugs galore—?
Flies and gnats, cicadas and more.
?At last his parents, irked full sore,?
Shipped him away to Baltimore.*
*W. B. Rands Square—a shorter Victorian moral
*Mathematics&Poetry—based on a mathematical square: the number of syllables in a line equals the number of lines.
I hate the way romance is lost
on the societies of today;
The ripple effect is a greater cost,
for love becomes a mere game to play.
No more flowers and dates,
just ice-cream and kisses;
No more endless debates,
just morning texts and late wishes.
The concept of courtship is re-defined,
and friendship boundaries blur;
To loyalty, common eyes are blind,
and yet hearts still claim intentions are pure.
What happened to the gentlemen who held the doors?
And the ladies that blushed at a glance?
From where comes the existence of playboys and whores?
People gambling with feelings and chance?
The world is so de-sensitised,
for this is now the norm;
Anything deeper becomes emphasised,
and stands out, for it doesn’t conform.
Old-fashioned is the given word,
for those who choose to wait;
Outrages stories become heard,
one-night stands to end a date.
Well, I won’t fall for cheap pick-up lines,
give me love letters to keep over time;
And I’m more drawn to the Shakespeare’s and Einstein’s,
than I am to the food-stains and grime.
I would find more joy in silence and holding hands,
than in empty kisses and meaningless words;
And better than a dinner worth hundreds of rands,
is a picnic outside, with the birds.
I’d rather gaze upon the stars at night,
and know my love is true;
Than dance in clubs till morning light,
and fear regret for what I might do.
A warning to those who look my way,
my heart will not be torn;
and if you’re looking for daisies, then walk away;
I’m a rose, do not bring out my thorn.
LIFE.....
What is life???
Life is a journey
Life is a puzzle
Only the correct pieces to be connected
Connected to complete puzzle
Pieces which differ from size & shape
They made from different moments
Even if they fit but does not...
A human life.
It has to be the right format.
Life that depends in all seasons
Life is not completed with Rands or Dollas
Only those who has the strength to
Hang on will survive.
Life is a picture without a painter
Its a subject of tolerance.
Life is a gift from the Creator
Life is a Journey without a master
It is full of surprises and challenges
Consist of Great and Happy moments
Life is never good
Life is never smooth
Life is a storm just learn how to dance on it
It consist of rain,sun and cold weather
LIFE IS PRECIOUS...
A DECEMBER TO REMEMBER
Roy Mokoena
Who will I be without number twelve,
Time for gatherings and restoration of relations,
A lot of festivities but my birthday month,
The tail of the year, in it I was created.
Triple decades ago, I was still crawling, It felt
good moving from place to another with knees.
Like a thirsty stallion I could not stop crying,
The lullaby I always sang before the bedtime.
A December to Remember
Flecks of grey speckled over my dark hair,
I am now growing and becoming very old,
If age was a wage, health would be my wealth.
Rands in the hands, the poorman's daily dream. Brighter days, Holiday on a Monday I was born,
A bouquet of dandelions I received as a gift,
but songs and surprises are always a Joy for Roy.
Christ was born on the twenty-fifth day
A December to Remember
I was born on the twenty-sixth day
I am also a Member to Remember.
It was twenty years ago
Yet it seem like yesterday
Since you got me this book
Sure I was starting
to show signs of a teenager
At first a dairy was a novelty
But days of my life was not quite
Of what I had in mind
I'm not that naïve
I was just out to find
the better side of me
I was growing into a man
Taking part in life
And dealing with these wheels
As a teenager with a disability
I was looking for a job at a local petrol station
The manager there he looked at me
He asked me what can you do?
I replied admin anything
He said nah
He send me away with fifty rands
I was disgruntled and went away
That was twenty years ago today
Later I took a chance and change the way of life
This year is like I'm losing in everything
Is like pushing
yourself through loose sand
With a wheelchair
Your only focus is to get out
No one like to be stuck
It's a survival instinct
As for me
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
And I am still right here
The book I asked you
I never gave it a second thought
But now it look like what a lot I got
So much time
So much pain
The book is all I ever had
It's all I ever need
It is always been there
Every poem
Every page
Sometimes something
so broken can never be fixed
But you always build it better
Second time around
Be Strong On Your Studies.
Now learn-
later on, earn
you will then celebrate
with your old room-mate (s)
and don't forget your
friends
and those who gave you some rands ,
your siblings and
parents
always remain
important-
thanks to your class
teachers
for all the given
lectures
in all what you have been
through
your dream has become
true
now stand up and go
forward
and never return
backwards
because education
has lead you to this
destination.
Drencho_POET_Loads
He leaves his soul on the pavement,
To be greeted only by the soles of shoes passing by,
Never stopping.
They are equally decrepit,
Equally as likely to be discarded when their purpose is no longer obvious.
He works his fingers to the bone,
To feed only on bones tossed away by licked fingers,
Never sharing.
They are equally decayed,
Equally as likely to be discarded when their purpose is no longer obvious.
***
"Help Me",
He says, in a voice hoarse with thirst,
with a tongue thick with pleads and regret.
"Sorry,"
I say, in a voice damp with machine coffee,
through teeth caked with take away food and regret.
I reach to the depths of my heart,
In search of something that might fill the depths of his bowels,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.
I reach to the seams of my pockets,
In search of something that might alter the seams of his existence,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.
I reach to the limits of me,
In search of something that might lift the limits of him,
For something of sense beyond cents and rands.
I cannot.
I cannot.
For this,
I am truly sorry
An immortal sadness, an eternal loneliness
Pretentious happiness and painted smiles
A life forcefully lived
And a journey made up of mosaic tiles
A penny for your thoughts
And 2 more rands for your heart
You’re my rose without thorns
Yet still I suffer at your touch
Manipulate me with your charms
And once again get your way
Promise to come back to my arms
And yet another lie it had to stay
I’d rather be your fool then a fool to loneliness
Even if it means dancing to a rhythm less tune
Stupid I remain for your controlling ways
Funny how scent lingers with me right through noon
Mpho Lebohang Mokhele
He shuffles his feet like the money he once flaunted
Green between his toes, a bar of soap he once afforded
Toenails overgrown like spades digging for gold
He walks barefoot his state of mankind receded
Soiled worst that the shadowy projection of his silhouette
The earth sends his hunched over skeleton a R.I.P. invite
Down on all fours like a dog begging for a treat, he accepts
Pleading to God for forgiveness through the teeth he rots
Extravagant choices on the menu at the French restaurant
He succeeded in expediting a quick conversion rate
Omelette to cheques; chicks to tips; Rands to Euros
He sits dreading the wasted indices he reduced to zeros
The man who owns the hour commands power
The fool who doesn’t cross his 8 Mile grows poorer
Funny how money is loyal until the last cent
Once spent, it leaves without even a trace of its scent
I
Andre Kelbrik was a realtor in Pretoria, akin to Washinton or Ottowa
I was in South Africa's first free & fair Foreign Ministry, Deputy to Schwarz,
Head of the Communications Hub: we issued DNB, summary of News
To all ambassadors and consulates of South Africa, abroad ...
I had no interest in business. Thanks to Andre, I am a landlord today
I sing of Andre and Marina, who befriended me in PRETORIA, closed to me
Until the election of Nelson Mandela in 1994 (Apr 27), taking office in '95
II
Now, I know the ups and downs of business, even renting out 3 FLATS
I wanted just one, as I was far from family (in Washington, D.C.) -
But Andre kept finding these good deals, and sold me three woonstele
Even helping kick out in 1999, a fellow-Indian, but a scheming tenant
And since then, all my tenants have tried to rob, not pay, squat:
Because of the changing post-apartheid business dispensation
They'd get off (Prayer?) since I was often with my daughters in USA
III
In 2012, my US citizen daughter who turned 21, sponsored me
I had to remain in the US of A, and leave only with USCIS consultation
So I hung in there, being father, pastor, teacher ... tenants went to town
I must have lost a million Rands, good money in any country -
So I know about dangers of democracy, being equal and all -
Yet, there is no other way. We cannot kill to keep what we gained here
Which is but of earth, every treasure, & Earth will claim it all
As I write ... streams slow
And a trickle of guilt
Flow, flow, flow
"Father, father, Faaathhher"
From beyond my gate and border
"Pastor, pastor, pastor"
Was the cry an hour before
He, Shady, got 5 Rands; he hoped for more
But as I write, I decide
Wonga won't be attended to
8 o'Clock at night? No, Charity will wait
I have shared uncooked & cooked rice
And the usual soups, bread, fruit
Coins adding up to 30 Rands
But mostly under 17; to enhance
My safety - giving minus predictability
So my "parishioners" see limits
But raised mostly Catholic, FATHER
Comes naturally to them -
I did not take any title at the beginning
They avoid churches, even at funerals
Tents at homes is the local culture
So I share a little, though few attend
Our Protestant style of worship
Yet, once a week I invent JesusLuvsU Day
Jesus is Love, Love, LOVE
Despite your intelligence mimicry,
You still come far short in your gimmickry,
Throwing down the drains fine masterpieces,
Flushed away as a fresh bout of faeces.
Nights without sleep to pen wonders on sheet,
Yet a lame detector brands one a cheat,
An app claiming to be a true genius ~
Is far from being labeled ingenious.
How long will your pretence rule human minds,
Before you're swept off by the southern winds,
That your charade may stop to fool the world,
And your foolishness may at last unfurl.
Strange how your fanbase keeps on increasing,
Even the most smart, you're daily fleecing,
These cursed detectors come in many brands,
Some free – yet some charge dollars and rands.
I'm amazed you didn't claim this was by you,
This bitter pill, your pride has had to chew,
But that won't stop me from calling you out,
To nip in the bud your infamous clout.