As I Call It Hardwork
I was never granted the night
But my heart stormed me the light
I was never given a chance
But life made me wana dance
I was never the best of the best
But my efforts separated me from the rest
I could not glide my eyes success
And yet my faith granted me progress
then time came
And honored I became
As I kept all the values
and with my norms I travelled
Time came
And dignictory I became
As I kept my identity
And with indemnity I marvelled
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Money The Depression
Money!
Many enough to express
So clear to describe success
Money!
Many enough to dispense
But so much of a sense to influence
A threat is what it impose
But inequality it keeps to dispose
Money!
Many enough
But ending sad from just a bluff
Addictional to the cirle vein
That emotions I left in to much pain
So long depression it took to retire
But death rescues a life from the fire
In that way one is away from the money
All a decisive percption that it is not funny
Yet generations descended by the draught
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Then My Future Could Be Bright
All it took was a cast
As the spirit flowed
And all was left is the past
As memories were just a load
Respect I give to the lovers of art
For I know, that in me they will play their part
With my lovely brains
The airport of ideas
Flying like blowing flames
Yet deeper that the mine of De beers
Respect I give to the teachers of literature
Whose obligation is to form a brighter future
I throw respect to all elders
Yes! It being a duty to my life
Giving praise to my builders
And continue to do what I love
Respect I give to elders of and experts of poetry
Because one day I will form part of the dignitory
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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I Swear By The Journey
I swear by the journey,
As I walk,
Emotions get to talk,
My guts by virtue get to be bold,
As I sing,
The voice will be heard by all swings,
I swear by the journey,
As I fly,
Then I will stand and rely,
As I love,
I will hold and cherish the havenly dove,
As I smile,
I know my living days are granted another mile,
I!
Swear!
By!
The!
Journey!
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Bring My Soul
No man
No women
Can retrieve the human soul
Nor can define and re-define
The central tendency of soul in sole
Exept human themselves
No man
No women
Can redeem the soulful sounds of soul
Neither at gliding shadows
Nor at loud darkness
Can they farbricate the smile to soul
Exept human themselves
No man, Yes!
No women
Can vanquish the greatness
Of distruction that's carried by the soul
Nor can comprehend the distortions
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Poetry! Poetry! Poetry!
Poetry! Yes!
P. The Purple
P. The Pink
Poetry! Be a mix of emotions,
Poetry! The different kinds of expressions,
Poetry! The different kinds of experiments
Poetry! The Corners of exploration
Yes! Yes! Yes!
The Vague Of Emphasise.
Though be the same thoughts and emotions, he solves the different vexed questions of equations
Poetry! My blue sky!
Poetry! My brown skin
Poetry! My White clown
Poetry! My green grass
Yes! Yes! Yes!
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Prof. Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe
Because of your encephalon
that boiled of Africanism
a benediction that you cursed
to the custom of Africans
we not,
But regret your absence nowadays
The esculent brains of your mind
the sempiternal thoughts of your head
that stood
amongst memories
of avid Africans in Africa
You left none,
But legacy
though only a few inherited,
many still regret being oblivious
your everlasting perception
In this land,
will forever stay prominent
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Burn Those Books
I would love to believe
That education was a key
To open the jailed opportunities
I kept on comprehending
That education had by all means
Been a hero to rescue
All the captured visions
But today I turn around
And shout aloud up in the mountains
Today I come to disclose
The hidden truth
And I continue to voice out
'BURN ALL THOSE BOOKS'
I have seen so much cruelty
I have experienced the devil
All in human's body
conserved by the minds
And captivated by all their hearts
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poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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The Murderer
Viciously hungry for blood,
paneciously thirsty within mud,
yes! he is the diabolic nightmare,
his eyes always in envy of evil flair,
a human animal snake from the evil,
that his mind dances to the devil,
am not talkin about a snake,
but a poisonous human snake who put lives at stake,
fierce enough to oppose harmony,
peace of his paralle to its own lagony,
exitst in purpose to kill and destroy,
atleast happy to see tears of pain,
his heart like a black sheep,
his sinister mind shines with much evilship,
disputes a fruit in his digestion,
he never wants to rest until one is down,
nature, matured him not with fear but tear,
always vex for harm too near
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The Song (My Culture)
I Sing it with pride!
I sing it with love!
I sing it with origin!
I Sing it genuinely!
Allong strong delight,
Which neither divided or subtracted,
reveals my true identity in multiple,
it hypnotises the soul i begot from the soil,
distinguished amongst other songs,
cannot be languished!
cannot be banished!
Culture O! Song,
I Sang It Before!
I Sing It Now!
As I will sing it then!
Allong strong delight,
a part of a human art to my site,
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