The Imperfect Poet

ramblings - can you do everything?

2009-02-26T20:35:00.000+02:00

Greetings. In business, one must constantly revisit one's stratgy and plans to ensure that things are on track and to make the necessary changes to ensure that you stay on track. Or even, to change direction because reality often has its own ideas. In the world in which we currently live, which is moving at enormous speeds, business needs to be flexible and dynamic enough to make the necessary changes, otherwise it gets left behind.

The question is: do you do the same as an individual? Do you take stock of where you are going and the means you are using to get there? And when life evolves, do you evolve with it? We all have strengths and areas that we are not so strong in. Do you operate to your strengths?

Being the proverbial 'jack of all trades', I often grab at anything because I figure I can always hustle my way through it. Often, I end up hating the experience and distracting myself from what it is I am really good at (yeah, there are one or two things I can actually do relatively well). I haven't always done so but I have been working long enough to know what I enjoy doing and what I am above average in. As a result, if I am approached about something or go into something, if I know that I am not as strong, or simply do not know, I make it known and cede to those who do know. That way I am able to learn and enhance my knowledge. It takes pushing ego aside and leaving myself open to greater insight and greater value. I don't always get it right, but I do believe it is a step in the right direction.

This is a journey and none of us has all the answers. We need to acknowledge that, especially to ourselves. And then we need to surround ourselves with people who complement us, are able to take us, as a collective forward. Sometimes it means getting out of the way and following. If we don't, we end up as the stumbling blocks to achieving our own dreams.

A random thought.

Jamati Online | Kojo Baffoe

2009-02-07T21:37:00.002+02:00

"‘I want to sit on a mountain top and write’

Interview by Ameyaw Debrah February 6, 2009 Leave a Comment

“My poetry is deep…so deep it echoes words infinitely…so deep it drowns simple minds in tears…so deep it solves Africa’s problems in one verse…so deep it transcends racism and breaks down sexism.” This is how Kojo Baffoe, a dynamic African writer/poet and media consultant chooses to define his work in ‘The power of po’ taken from his book, ‘Voices in My Head - a collection of poetry’.

Born in Munich, Germany to a Ghanaian father and German mother, Kojo spent his formative years on the streets of Maseru, Lesotho; spent some time in Germany to get in touch with his Germanic roots; and ended up receiving his Bachelor of Commerce at the University of KwaZulu-Natal. The well-travelled and vastly knowledgeable Kojo has since had varied working experiences in a number of sectors including IT, fashion and cosmetics, and publishing. However, Kojo is more famed for his amazing gift of writing, whether as a poet or a writer of lifestyle issues and popular culture. He currently lives with his lovely wife and son in Johannesburg, where he is often referred to as ‘the love poet’. Jamati.com spoke to the ever-growing and ever-innovative writer/poet and media consulting extraordinaire about his life, poetry and gift as a writer. » Read more…

My thanks to Ameyaw. really enjoyed this interview.

ramblings - dipping & diving

2009-02-03T23:34:00.002+02:00

Greetings. As we creep further in 2009, the more I find myself wandering off path. I started the year fired up with ideas built on ideas built on dreams. I put together plans, layout projects that will change the world (at least my little piece of it), phone and generally harass people, and jump into the new year with excitement, fervour, determination and commitment.

Then 'real life' takes over. Bills need to be paid and money needs to be made. I find myself then compromising on the ideas and projects and plans just so I can get through the day, which becomes frustrating. Which then leads to more compromises as the excitement fades.

But...

The key to this year, for me, having jumped back into the self-employed / freelance space, is to do things differently. It is to learn from previous forays into this world and not make the same mistakes. It is to take the experience gained and translate into a different reality.

As with most things, easier said than done.

Random thoughts.

The one advantage of a little spare time is that I get to catch up on my reading. I've rambled about hime before, someone whose writing I'm enjoying is Seth Godin (www.sethgodin.com). And my new 'bible' is Timothy Ferriss' The Four Hour Work Week (www.fourhourworkweek.com). Since I just figured out the whole RSS feeds thing, I also get their blog posts regularly which I try to read as much as possible.

They are what has helped with the reviving waning enthusiasm.

Easy

ramblings - the beginning & the end are often the same

2009-01-28T15:54:00.001+02:00

I just realised that this is the second, if not third, end of year that I have been sending out ramblings, albeit sparsely in the last year. And this time of the year (although we are already getting deep into it), I tend to talk about the same things - the need for introspection, for taking stock, for looking back over the last year to understand how your present became your present so you can determine the future.

Nothing's changed. In fact, I find myself sitting in the same place I was last year, kinda. Self-employed. It has been an interesting, at times, long year. Last year this time I had left employment and forged out on my own. That lasted a couple of weeks and I spend 2008 in employment. Once again, I have taken the step out on my own. I have come to realise I am unemployable and need to focus on my dreams. What a friend of mine calls 'personal legend' and I simply call 'purpose'.

So what is your personal legend? What footprints are you going to leave on those around you, what legacy are you going to leave? How do you want to be remembered, even when you still here? I believe that what you are building in the future should be the lens through which you look at your present.

As we take a step into another year, these are the questions I ask myself. Do you think about them? Do you think about what 'you' represents to those around you? If someone speaks your name, what thoughts come to mind? Are they what you hope them to be?

Just a thought.

I have never been one for new year's resolutions but, for 2009, I seek to create some level of fluency and regularity with these ramblings. They are just random thoughts. They may or may not have relevance.

Easy runnings

ramblings - the revival

2008-10-08T12:32:00.000+02:00

Greetings. It's been a while since I felt in a position to ramble. Share my thoughts, however coherent or otherwise. Life has a habit of taking over, leaving no room for introspection. And then, as stuff adds up, confusion reigns and clear thought departs. I have, however, had the chance to get some reading done lately and am busy finishing up The Dip by Seth Godin. The book explores the concept of quitting which seems apt when it comes to many of the choices we make on a daily basis.

The main question is what does quitting imply? We live in a world that seems to equate quitting only with failure but he convincingly argues differently. I'm not going to get into the details of it (a quick and easy read, if you want to check it out). I have been looking at it in relation to my life. I have always tried to do what I enjoy doing and what inspires me in the belief that life is too short to do what you don't want to do. For that reason, it takes both hands and feet to count the industries I've explored. Lots of fun, great learnings and challenges. I have left projects and jobs at what to some may see as inopportune moments for my sanity.

Life changes on us. Our responsibilities evolve. Our needs expand. These all affect the decisions we make. What I'm grappling with is whether one then does things they do not necessarily want to do to fulfil their duty. Where is the line between fulfilling self and fulfilling responsibility beyond self? How responsible is it to subject loved ones to sacrifice when it mainly feeds one's own desires?

Who you are is determined by much, including what you do to make ends meet. We spend more time with the people we work with than our families. What this means, to me, is that the decision to pursue a career, a job, in a particular space, at a particular time, is an extremely important one that cannot be taken lightly. If you are reading this, it means you are one of the privileged few who actually have choice. What are you doing with it? I ask myself that every day and do not yet have an answer. Would love to hear your thoughts.

Ramblings return more with questions than clear thoughts.

ramblings - dream on

2008-04-01T07:11:00.001+02:00

I tend to recycle thoughts in these ramblings depending on where I am in the experience called life. Lately, I've been thinking about dreams a lot - not the ones that come to you when in sweet slumber but the ones that you set for yourself in waking moments. Is there is the 'end destination'? A moment when you will have achieved that ultimate dream? Or is it like the 'quest for zero defect', an ongoing process that is never finalised.

I often wonder what that day will be like. The one when I wake up and I am living my ultimate dream. One of the things that keeps us going is the goals and milestones we have. And every time we achieve one, we shift onto the next one. And then the next. With that in mind, I often question that 'ultimate dream'. There are planned steps along the way but these constantly change as I gain further knowledge. Things I always wanted to do are forgotten as others come about that seem a better fit. I try to keep focused on the end state that I dream of, and ensure that everything I do works towards that, but what if that isn't what I really want. Do I have to reach that point to recognise that?

Confusing, I know. I am sitting in a position where something I have contributed to has been realised and I am already looking beyond to what can be done next. There is no time to savour the moment and I find myself questioning this. Will this be the case with everything I do? When I released my first book, while excited about it, I was already thinking about my next one, and the one after that. Is it just me or is this normal?

We expend so much emotion, time and energy of things but, when we achieve them, we shift the goalposts and find something new to chase after. That seems like the way of the world.

When does it stop?

ramblings - painful questions

2008-03-18T14:03:00.000+02:00

This is a ramblings in its purest form. It is about 04:40am, I literally haven't slept in four days, and it doesn't look like I'm going to get to bed in another five to six hours ..... wondering how far is too far? How far can one take the body before it becomes too much? What would be considered truly beyond the call of duty? How much does one give of oneself for an ideal? Is there a cut off point? A point where you say, "okay, I tried."

Growing up, I was taught that you work hard. As I grew older, I learnt that you need to work smart too. Yet I find myself constantly driven by the need to work harder. It was easier when I was alone, when I didn't have a family, but now ..... It is that same family that makes me want to work harder. I wonder.

How does one find the necessary balance?

My son literally hasn't seen me in over a week. I am the person who creeps into bed in the middle of night. I am the person who feeds him and changes him in the shadows and then I am gone. I am becoming an absentee father even though we 'live' in the same house.

My marriage has become random phone conversations. Am I becoming a husband just in name?

How does one find the necessary balance?

There was a time when, as a man, one's role was merely to provide. Those days are long gone and there is a need to truly be a part of one's family's life, as opposed to an occasional visitor - I've discovered I miss the waking up for nappy changes and feeds. It is easier than this (and perhaps more fulfilling?).

How does one find the necessary balance?

In this driven, fast-paced world, we often need to drive ourselves hard to ensure that we can create the necessary foundation to allow ourselves the opportunity to enjoy our lives, with our families. But what if time passes us by and when we finally create that foundation, it is too late.

How does one find the necessary balance?

More question than thought.

ramblings - what's your worth?

2008-02-29T00:28:00.000+02:00

What is your worth? As a human being? In your career? In your social circles?

We all inhabit so many spaces on a planet with billions of people. Do you ever wonder what you bring to it all? What the significance of you being here is? When you leave this physical realm, how will you be remembered beyond your family and friends? Do you need to be remembered beyond them? How quickly will you fade into distant memory? Or will you linger?

When a celebrity or anyone else the public eye moves on, they are celebrated (some), honoured and remembered. What makes them different from you and I? Are we not each unique beings with much to offer?

We inhabit a world that is becoming more and more connected, for those of us with the resources to take advantage of that connectivity (and we are a minority). This means that our contribution, our impact on humanity can reach that much further. Are we using it effectively?

These are the questions that plague and influence how I view and interact with the world. I just hope I get it right. The real influence lies with the 'ordinary' people, but we all need to step up to the plate and harness the power we have.

Honour those who truly create positivity. Let us not be distracted by the trivial.

Just a thought.

is there a future?

2008-02-25T22:16:00.002+02:00

Other than the dreaded writer’s block, staying inspired, enthused and committed to writing is one of the biggest challenges I face as a poet and writer, especially because I continue to dream of living solely off my writing, my passion.

Over the years, I have attempted to do this with extremely limited success, but I still dream of being able to in the future. I envy writers who are able to take a sabbatical and commit to their writing for any particular period, whether a week, a month or a year.

For those of us who have to squeeze the words in between hustling other hustles, it can be hard staying focused on that end goal. At times, it seems easier to pursue the whole writing thing as a hobby as opposed to attempting to build a career out of it. But, the heart, the soul demands that the words be spoken.

Anyway, I struggle to stay excited about the whole poetry writing thing, especially since, in the last two years, I haven’t really been involved in the whole scene in Joburg or beyond. But today, I was fortunate enough to spend some time with Nandi, from Inside Out Literary Arts Project, an NGO involved in schools programmes in Detroit. It was refreshing to be able to talk poetry and get a different perspective on it.

I have, over the last year, discovered that my joy, my passion lies in the interaction with youth on poetry and writing. They still retain a love that hasn’t been tainted by the external, such as commercialisation, career, etc. They write because they love to. And in being allowed into their space, I remember that I write because I cannot not write. Whether I reach any measure of success in my career as a writer or not, I will always love the Word. And I will always write. Nandi reminded me of this, through her sharing of experience, thought and knowledge.

It is not always easy, but we all need to remember why we do what we do. Why we find pleasure in those experiences. We also need to remember that success is defined by self. Keep on reaching, stay focused, remember and enjoy the ride. It is the experience that counts.

Just a thought

ramblings - still here

2008-02-12T08:21:00.001+02:00

The irregularity of ramblings is a positive symptom of this creature we call 'life'. It is nice to know that it is missed - if the random complaints I get is anything to go by. In all honesty, many a night, I start to scribble some thoughts down but they are never coherent enough to share so I delete them.

Occassionally, I am invited to talk to kids about poetry and there are two things I always harp on about, two bits of contrived wisdom that I believe are important for anyone who seeks a writing lifestyle. These are:

1. Read. If you do not know what other people have, and are, writing, how can you honestly say that you have a space within that realm.

2. Live life. I am often asked what my inspiration is and, as cliched as it sounds, Life is what drives me. And I need to live it to find the reference points for my writing.

Where am I going with this? Well, it is basically a roundabout excuse for why my ramblings are so erratic. I seem to have gone to the opposite extreme. I am so consumed by life that I have no time to write, which in itself is a different challenge. I am the first to go on about finding and living one's passion, one's purpose but this should also not fall victim to the joys and trials of living day-to-day.

It is about finding balance, which I am grappling with right now. I sincerely believe that once we know where we are trying to go, we need to spend even a few minutes working towards this. Your purpose (or what a friend of mine refers to as your personal legend) should be the lens through which you look at the world.

That said, also recognise that, as long as you use that lens and consciously work towards something, you will find that that there is progress, even when it doesn't seem so because, as the saying goes: many small things add up to something big.

Thought I'd share that while I navigate the physical realm building the future I dream of. Not sure how much sense it makes.

An erratic thought.

ramblings - do what you need to do

2008-01-08T09:01:00.000+02:00

It is that time of the year when we re-look at everything we are doing and start asking the hard questions. Somehow the change in calendar year always seems to bring renewed energy coupled with a bit of doubt. We tend to second-guess the choices we have made and re-think the choices we hope to make. It is easy to get so caught up in the thinking process that we end up not doing anything.

I believe that most important part of this 'building a life' thing is to determine your end destination. What it is you are working towards. Once you know that, it becomes easier to determine the path to take in reaching that point. What do you consider your purpose? Where do you see yourself in 10, 20, 30 years? Life is filled with abundant opportunity, but it doesn't always mean you should take advantage of every opportunity that comes your way.

The best way to establish what to pursue is to let your ultimate goal be the lens that you view the world with. Each thing you do should, directly or indirectly, help build towards that final resting place. It then makes it easier to also deal with obstacles and challenges that may arise. If you know why you are doing something, you become a lot more open and tolerant to stuff. At the same time, know when to let go, when something has run its full course and no longer contributes in any way to the 'master plan'.

Just a thought.

ramblings - that time again

2008-01-02T23:34:00.000+02:00

It's that time of the year again - the beginning. And every year, I, as well as countless others, share thoughts on how to deal with each year, or at least, what we should be thinking about this time of the year.

Every year, I spend the end in introspection and the beginning in planning. I lay out what I need to accomplish and review it at the end. My level of success? I can't honestly say it is high. My next collection of poetry is still in the making - it's been top of the list for two years now. At the same time, I do feel I have accomplished quite a bit, that wasn't on the list. How often do we take for granted what we have achieved, always looking for the 'big' moments when all the 'small' ones add up to more?

This year I've decided to take a different approach. We can't plan everything and, sometimes, our rigid plans make us feel even worse coz, the minute they veer off course, we are thrown into confusion. So, for 2008, I say, make plans but go with the flow. Make things come but focus on being fluid and flexible so you can change direction without too much pain.

Just a thought

ramblings - random rantings

2007-12-28T23:42:00.000+02:00

I've been doing a lot of reading on the impact on this collaborative, information, prosumer era which has me grappling with thoughts that plagued me when I starting sharing my words, on stage, on page and onscreen, namely: relevance.

I, like so many (or the few who read these words) of you, blog. I spend time, albeit brief moments, scribbling thoughts, exposing myself for who I truly am and what I really think, but what is the relevance. Why do it? Who am I doing it for? You? Me? We?

As with most things in life, every action brings more questions. Every answer evokes two questions. What confuses me even more is that this action (random rantings online) has no answer. And yet I continue.

Sometimes I write with no purpose just so I can post..... I am of the school that writers should write, exercise that muscle, and, in time, something useful will come out of it.

I'm reading a book called Wikinomics and at the basis of it is the idea of collaboration (in all spheres) being the essence of this evolved information / digital age. I wonder whether through collaboration - my ramblings and your thoughts - I might find sanity.

Just a thought.

ramblings - looking back

2007-12-27T14:42:00.000+02:00

I was recently going through my blog and came to the realisation that it's literally been a year since I posted regularly to this space. And in that time, so much has happened, so much time has passed by.

As a writer and a poet, I'm often asked what advice I would give to other aspiring wordsmiths. Beyond "don't do it, because it can be a loveless path to take, I am a firm believer in "living". Artists can be so self-indulgent, so inward looking. We talk about reflecting, highlighting and engaging with life but spend more time observing it than we do participating - maybe it's just me. But LIVING is a critical part to being able to artistically express and it is important that we embrace ALL aspects of life. We often restrict our engagement with life because we judge it, but that blocks us from experiences that may add value to our craft.

As a poet in Africa, there is much talk about poetry serving as the voice for the voiceless, as a tool for revolution or protest. While this is important, focusing solely on that means one's life is incomplete. What about love? Laughter? Clowning? These are all elements of being human. We are like Shrek, we have layers.

Where am I going with this? I feel I've gone the opposite route, which is a problem in itself. I have been so focused on living that I have neglected my passion, my essence - writing, sharing thought, word.

Hopefully, a year will not pass by again without words in this, the infinite pursuit of perfection.

Just a thought

Re-definition of Self

2007-12-10T22:14:00.000+02:00

The Internet, as it re-defines itself, has provided many of us with the opportunity to reach across immense distance to create communities with like-minded people we may never have met in our lifetimes. The advent of collaborative and interactive spaces, like blogs, facebook and MySpace, have created friendships that will last over lifetimes while also allowing many of us to re-establish friendships with those who have moved on.

Sitting in Africa, a continent that has become, again, a cause for the world, I have always tried to keep abreast, as much as I can, of the developments available to us all. I truly believe that the 'Information Age' is the one era in which there opportunity for us, as Africans, to start to level the playing field. This Blog was my first one, which I started as a space to discuss the one thing I am truly passionate about - poetry. Since starting this one, I have also started a poetry blog (http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com) in which I post all my unedited raw poetry, two Myspace pages (www.myspace.com/kojobaffoe and www.myspace.com/kojothepoet) and a space of Facebook. I also have a random e-newsletter that I send out to a growing list of people, in which I share my thoughts on a range of subjects. (Always worry about whether they are relevant or not)

Anyway, I have discovered that it is easy to caught up in all these things but, over the last few weeks, have started to question the purpose of these spaces, and the countless others I have registered with and never used (and will probably never use coz I can't remember my passwords). In my mind: MySpace is a place for marketing myself as a writer and performer - I have two because I only realised you have to register with My Space Music separately if you want to include music; Facebook is for connecting with friends and I have re-connected with friends I haven't spoken to in over a decade; and, Imperfect Poetry is a self-indulgent experiment driven by a need to share and find relevance in my writing. This space? I don't know. That's what I've been grappling with.

But, I do feel this space is important, especially as my first true step into this new world. So, in an attempt to revive this space, I would like to start including my Ramblings on it. At the same time, if there is anyone who still visits me here, I would like thoughts, ideas, guidance, comments, etc on what you would like to see and hear here from a simple, yet confused African (and European) poet and writer trying to make sense of this crazy reality we reside in.

It's been a while. But I'm still here. Are you?

Easy

Kojo

Just

2007-01-03T09:32:00.000+02:00

It's been a while since I posted anything here, been caught up with my space & struggling to clearly define the purpose of each space. Just felt the need to leave a few words here in celebration of another year beginning.

The whole poetry thing continues to exist as a large part of who I am, and there are always big plans for further expression in that realm, but I never feel settled in it. Directionless with direction. Sometimes I wish I had the liberty of giving it up but I cannot. Can't live with it and can't live without it. Aaah, the joys of drawing breath.

So! 2007. I do not do New Year's resolutions so it is about keeping on. Easy runnings

War

2007-01-03T09:18:00.000+02:00

While we sleep
The bombs rain down on the heads of unknown children
Their bodies are separated from their spirits
they return to the heavens
And forsake the physical

While we sleep
They carve our souls from the earth
Fertilise it with our blood
Build fortresses on our land
Take ownership of what is not theirs to take

While we sleep
They wage war in the name of an equality that makes them stronger
Renders us the weaker

While we sleep
The bullets penetrate our bodies
Cleave humanity from humankind
Evolve us to a state of barbarism that has never existed
In the name of civilisation

While we sleep
While we sleep

While we sleep
Our prophets, our heroes, our fathers, our mothers are killed and buried in mass graves of silence
Their words drowned by the drone of fighter planes and gunships that take ownership of the skies

While we sleep
Peace is reversed
War is birthed
Death becomes the norm
Mind control real
Passion smothered
Souls extinguished

While we sleep
We lose our relevance
Our existence becomes irrelevant
Our legacy is silence
Our lives are nothing
We cannot run forever

Wake up!
I said wake up, children of the night
The world is coming to an end
What shall you tell your children?

Legitimacy

2006-10-31T20:27:00.000+02:00

In the beginning of time
There was silence
When thought was original
And the workings of man
Resided in the divinity of the gods

Time ticked
The days crept through the residues of yesterday
And became today
And today thought is recycled
Our words have become imitations of past genius
Mere attempts to carve our place in the memories of our fellow being

e-dance

2006-10-12T22:10:00.000+02:00

This technologically driven world is filled with possibility and some confusion. The Internet and, by extension, the created ability for all of us to make our thoughts felt has me twisted. Sadly, it is this space that has suffered for that. As a poet and writer seeking to build a career beyond the invisible borders of my current place of residence has me chasing every possibility. This was my first blog. I then created Imperfect Poetry (http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com) where I continue to post my poetry from my daily writing sessions.

In the last two months I have discovered My Space which, from the perspective of getting heard, has come to serve as my main space. www.myspace.com/kojobaffoe. At the same time, a few months ago I started sharing my thoughts (ramblings) with a group of friends via email, which I also post on My Space. Creating and keeping some sort of electronic presence is hard work.

I am making the assumption that there people out there interested in my words and thoughts. Please visit my space and imperfect poetry for regular word. Easy.

spaces

2006-09-10T23:03:00.000+02:00

This is all very confusing. I am being consumed by the possibilities the www provides. I am finding myself in so many spaces that I am starting to lose track and it has become a job in itself trying to keep all spaces updated and current. The cliche about 'spreading oneself thin' comes to mind.

The list continues to grow. There are the two artist sites:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section) and
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html. My new excitement is that the Other Voices Project is coming out with an anthology and there is possibility of one of my poems being included in this. Also have a poem in the SA anthology Words Gone To Soon, celebrating two young writers who have passed on, Sello Duiker and Phaswane Mpe.

Anyway, I also have this blog and my Imperfect Poetry blog. Finally, I've been sending out Daily Ramblings, my rampant thoughts, out by email to a group of friends. Chaos. Well, a friend recently suggested I look at www.myspace.com as a possible 'venue' for consolidation. Trying it out so check me out on www.myspace.com/kojobaffoe and let me know what you think.

Poetically, things have been up and down but there is progress. In the last two weeks, I was MC/poet at the Joy of Jazz Festival that happens in Johannesburg every year, and performed at Sunday World Women's Celebration (a tabloid newspaper - made it into the paper without traditional 'bite' that seems to come with that privilege) and at a function for Ernst & Young. Flurry of activity I'm hoping will keep going.

The hustle continues.

Easy runnings

The word

2006-08-30T23:04:00.000+02:00

In the middle of a week's madness that, one day, I may look back on with some joy and humour. Last weekend was treacherous but exciting. I MCed at the Joy of Jazz Festival and, despite the cold, the chaos and the long hours, it was an experience I will always remember. Standing on a stage at a concert is totally different from performing as a poet. A poetry audience expects that and, therefore, it is easier to find a connection with that audience. Talking and doing poetry at a jazz festival is before people who seek music. Think it went down well enough. Tomorrow is another crazy day. I perform at a women's celebration for Sunday World and a corporate for Ernst & Young. Really looking forward to it and, hopefully, I will be able to do them justice. Anyway, just wanted to share.

Easy

On the edge of something

2006-08-23T23:36:00.000+02:00

The days add up. Time keeps ticking. Life happens to us and we happen to life. I find myself setting new goals and finding new dreams but the word continues to flutter in the shadows whispering to me, urging me on. I've been quiet on the poetry front but active poetically. I write nearly every day and dream every night.

I have always felt like I'm on the edge of something. Like all I need is a little push. A little luck even. I have been performing and actively writing for about 7 years now, but never seem to make it beyond a particular point. The last few months have forced me to re-think and re-determine what it is I'm doing. This weekend I perform at the Joy of Jazz Festival which is a level above which I have been operating. I am also performing at an event for Ernst & Young. What excites me about all of these is that I had to write specifically for the events. It is always a creative challenge to write on brief; how does one control and direct creativity? When it actually works, it is a beautiful thing.

I have decided that this is the momentum I need to move things up a notch. I look to the heavens, I believe. In Word We Trust.

Daily Ramblings #8

2006-08-22T22:33:00.000+02:00

Balance. So much about life relates to balance. Creating harmony between the different sides of who we are. I am a great believer in the faces we have have. Who we are depends on who we are talking to. When talking to a parent, we wear a different face from when talking to a friend or a lover or a person we meet on the street, etc, etc. There is an essence to who we are. There is a core essence to our beingness. But we change faces to protect that core. Some closer to who we are and some further. I do not consider it being fake but rather giving emphasis to a particular characteristic of us. Like Shrek and ogres, we are like onions - we got layers. The better we are able to find balance between these, the greater our peace of mind. And the greater our balance.

Balance is everything. Calm. It's like standing in the middle of a seesaw, shifting weight to ensure that the seesaw levels out. Balance between work and play, between serious and frivolous, etc. The greatest difficulty I find, as a creative, is balance between artistic endeavour and the formality of livingm

Find balance. The extreme, while eventful, can create chaos and confusion. Find your balance.

Just a thought.

Daily ramblings #7

2006-08-20T20:33:00.000+02:00

I realise that a lot of what I think about is not new. It's not some innovative thought on the progress of mankind, but I do hope it has some relevance in being the thoughts of another human being. We do not share enough and without dialogue, there can be no progress. I believe in relativity as a state of existence. While there are universal 'rights and wrongs', much of what we think and do is in relation to where we are at a given point in time. Truth, your truth, depends on what is right for you at that moment. It is not written in stone and how often does one find themselves putting forward a thought that they once contradicted. The best you can do for yourself is acknowledge what you have and work with the information at your disposal. If that changes, then review your decisions and move forward. Truth is your own to decide. Stand by it.

Just a thought.

Daily ramblings

2006-08-09T21:46:00.000+02:00

I've gone and created more drama for myself. In addition to this Blog and my Imperfect Poetry blog, I have now added another task to my list. For about a week now, I've been sharing my 'thoughts' of the day with a small group of friends. As the easy way out, I am going to be adding some of thoughts to this space, so below, please find the first one:

Please allow me this indiscretion. For some time now, I have been encouraged to share my thoughts with those around me in a manner that might provide some element of clarity in this crazy reality. I do not assume that my outlook is of any relevance but I have been told, by some, that it does not hurt to share one's limited wisdom. I will be honest and say that this attempt has also been prompted by something I have seen.

Anyway, the people I am sending this to are individuals I consider friends and / or family and the intention is to share the odd thought, every now and then, around my moments of clarity in the hope that it might provoke some process. I do have my blogs http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com and http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com which serve as release points for me, and now I am adding this. If you do not wish to receive these 'thoughts of the day', please do not hesitate to inform me. Also feel free to pass them on, should they seem relevant.

Thought of the day

How do we define success? For those of us living in cities like Joburg, society seems to dictate a commercial and material outlook. It is becoming about 'the money'. How did our ancestors live? Did they define fulfilment in monetary terms or otherwise?

Somehow I feel we are losing our souls in this pursuit of financial gain. It seems like that gain can only happen at the expense of others. I believe otherwise. Definition of self is an individual thing. Therefore definition of success is about the goals you set for yourself and not what society dictates as being success.

Decide what it is you want to accomplish in your life. Determine where you want to be in 5, 10 years and work towards that. It may not always happen as you wish but that is life. It is hard enough without adding the shallow perspectives of this undefinable creature called society. Definition of your success can only be done by you.

Easy runnings

Kojo

Voices shall be heard

2006-08-01T18:44:00.000+02:00

Life is taken some crazy turns and work has drained of moments of reflection. Add continued technological difficulties and my silence makes sense. But I don't really want to talk about that - though I wonder if this will actually make it through. Was posting to my other blog for a week before I realised stuff hasn't been posting.

Anyway, all fired up again. Went to Urban Voices Poetry Festival this last Saturday and was reminded of why I so love the Word. Urban Voices is always a difficult time because, while I have serious reservations about supporting an organisation (well, an individual) that continues to perceive and treat local poets as irritants and inferior beings, it is always an awesome experience because of the international poets that come through. I boycotted two years ago, out of principle, and then went totally my principles last year by performing. My reasons: it gave me the opportunity to meet Carl Hancock Rux (who I am in awe of) and the Last Poets. This year I actually bought tickets but that was because I had to see Suheir Hammad, Sekou Sundiata and Saul Williams; and I wasn't disappointed. I have the whole Def Poetry Jam and Suheir was one of the few poets I actually liked. Sekou Sundiata has quietly built a legacy. And Saul Williams? There are no words. Beyond ......

I must put in a word about Afurakan, a young poet I have worked with on various projects with and someone I believe has a great future ahead of him. He had to open the show and set the bar. He was off the hook. I have heard him so many times but Saturday he took it to another level and showed that we do have a voice and relevance as locally based poets. Maybe, one day, we will be allowed more than 3 - 5 mins at Urban Voices, compared to 30 mins to an hour for the internationals.

Funny thing was that there were so many faces that you would never see at a poetry event out because of the internationals. It's like saying that one's truth or words are more important because you are not from South Africa. Hell, that would mean that I should qualify as an international poet because I'm not from here. But I'm just from another African country, around the corner. And I consider myself a part of and representing South African poetry. It's all good. We shall find our place and space. Those who doubted the local poetry movement shall be the ones clamouring to establish their relevance when we reach those heights. And they shall talk about how they contributed to our development because they threw us crumbs once.

The life of an artist is such a funny one. How often do we hear about overnight successes when a person has spent a decade building the profile, working in the trenches, struggling to get their voice heard. And when they finally break that invisible ceiling, they are 'discovered'.

The hustle continues.

Don't stop

2006-07-26T00:08:00.000+02:00

The duality of this physical existence continues to inflict me with its distortion. It's been four weeks since I started working full-time (Content Producer for TV magazine show, Zwahashu, on SABC2) and I feel blessed and cursed at the same time. The comfort of a regular job provides me with room for breath that I have not had in over a year but that space has yet to settle so I continue to struggle with the consequences of my freelance lifestyle. Technology is crumbling around me and I am not in a position to sort it out, at present, and with the second burglary of my home, the lack of resource feels even more pronounced. But, I am optimistic. I am still in the part of the job where everything is new and challenging and, therefore, exciting. Also, it's really cool to have short-term milestones to accomplish. Working on long term goals can be a loveless experience without clear definitions of success and accomplishment. Working on poetry endeavours that may only bear fruit in the next 2 to 5 years leaves the soul drained. How does one determine whether they are moving in the right direction or not?

Talking about poetry, there is progress. Firstly, knowing that I can do it when I want to, on my terms has relieved me of the pressure of achieving. I can be poetic whenever I feel like it, and when I'm not interested, I can forget about it. Secondly, I can approach it with a relatively clear mind. It is easier to figure out exactly what I want to do and when.

Started working on my next collection for possible publication mid to late next year. Thinking of publishing poems solely from my Imperfect Poetry blog (http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com). While it is getting harder to post every day, I am building a decent collection of scribblings and hope that at least some deserve some extra work and re-writing. Any thoughts on how viable that is as an idea? Actually, anyone know how I could interest MTV Books in publishing some of my work? For some reason, they are a publishing house I've always thought might take a risk on my writings (we can all dream).

Anyway, beyond that, the calls for gigs are starting to come in and, for once, I actually have a plan to increase this. Also working on actually getting gigs confirmed. Have had a few, including a gig in New York, that were cancelled. In the next few weeks, I should actually have at least 5 confirmed over the next month. It's invigorating to be provided with new spaces to share my words (and the remuneration doesn't hurt either).

Well, that's it for me. Finally posted. This space has become very directionless. Not quite sure what to do with it so I guess it is becoming a bit of a personal journal. Aluta continua. Easy

2006-07-10T21:48:00.000+02:00

Normally, I post on the run. It's usually one of those moments when something says - oh, I need to post - and I take a second or two to rattle off some irrelevant words. Today, I have decided to call it a night early and have crawled into bed with my 'crackberry' to post. Not that it means I will be anymore coherent than normal, it just means I'm chilling when I do this.

Last week I started a new job, doing content and research for a television programme called Zwahashu. It's a new challenge and taking some getting used to but it is nice to have something new to try and figure out. I have spent a lifetime jumping between industries, never really settling in one space for too long, other than in the Word. Television production is an area that has always fascinated me. As a creative and corporate hybrid, I find that television is the one place that possibly allows me both. I have also been a TV junkie and drifted around the edges of the industry for some years now. Now I have one foot in and am hoping that I will find a place that allows for expression. Project management, writing, conceptualisation, creative thought - these are areas that inspire me and gradually I will have opportunity to explore all of these. It's also nice to finally have some stability.

I read somewhere that, over the centuries, there are few poets who have actually a living off their Word. I am consoled by that. I have learned that I do not need to exist in a space where the hope of my future lies solely in poetry and that seems to have released from a cell I had confined myself within. I love the Word, simply. I shall submerge myself within it till the end of my breathing days and beyond. But, my success shall not be determined by how many gigs I get or how many books I sell but rather by what my heart says.

A few weeks ago, I was featured at Xarra Books. It was humbling to sit in a space where people had left home just to come through to listen to my words - no back-up dancers, bling-bling, etc. Just a room with people open to hearing my truth. I have often wondered how artists who have reached greater heights feel. What that moment is like when you feel like you have attained some level of 'recognition'. Does one even know what that point is? It's all very confusing.

Okay, looks like this sitting to write breeds incoherence. My thoughts spill out randomly - very much in the way I actually think - and I start to lose myself.

This week is going to be another interesting one. On Wednesday evening, I will be on SABC3's 3Talk With Noeleen, with other poets. 3Talk is a talk show that flights every weekday around 17:30 (I think). On Sunday I perform at Constitution Hill at an event called 100 Men Stand, organised by EngenderHealth. It is part of a programme called Men As Partners and I am looking forward to finding out more about what the programme actually entails.

I was supposed to be going to the US for a gig but that seems to have fallen through. Really frustrating coz I really feel like I need to get beyond my current poetic space and share my word, but the time will come.

Phew, that was a mouthful. Easy
Blog: http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

Round Two

2006-07-03T21:45:00.000+02:00

So. Life is a series of moments that add up to something .... or nothing - whatever makes you comfortable. I think I've been down so long, it's becoming hard work to stay there. Went home (to Lesotho) this weekend for my sister's wedding.

Note: don't know about elsewhere in the world but in Africa, no matter where you decide to settle, home is always where your people are and where you come from.

While away, my home (in Joburg) was broken into (again). This time the bastards left with my dvd player, playstation, clothes & jewellery, and the stereo I got for my 21st birthday. I have trekked around southern Africa with that stereo & I am definitely going to miss - wherever I went, that stereo was with me. What really pisses me off is that they took my Prince CD (which was in the stereo) and my Pumas (bought in Tokyo by my brother.

Now the security gets bumped up even more. Sat in a meeting this morning with security company & discovered that there are two drug dealers & two brothels in my complex. Aah, don't you just love Joburg suburbs?

But I still love this city - and I hate this city. Crazy thing.

Just venting, but still feeling poetic. Really starting to feel like a poet - tho it probably doesn't seem like it on the Imperfect Poetry.

Damn, running out of words.

Poetically Inclined

2006-06-28T23:27:00.000+02:00

Another week crawls slowly to an end and I am a bit more enthusiastic about existence. Last Saturday I performed at Xarra Books and it was wonderful. The audience was gentle and open, and the Q & A brought up some interesting discussion. For once it went beyond 'what inspires you?' which is, sadly, the stereotypical question media always asks.

On the same night, I performed at the Sowetan / Snowflake Bridal Couple of the Year 2005/06 which was also fun. In line with the spirit, I did only love poetry and got a mention in the Sowetan (newspaper) during the week. Oh, got a mention in the Sunday World (weekly paper that has tabloid section) but they, at least, didn't give my name.

The Y FM June 16 celebration I posted about previously got the full brunt of the Shwashwi, which is the tabloid section of the paper. They felt that the event opened up with dreary, depressing poets and since there were only two poets, I guess I now qualify as dreary & depressing. It's funny to be rated by journalists who focus on the lives on what are called 'celebrities'. Obviously doesn't hold the same weight as the thoughts of Don Mattera or Nadine Gordimer, so will try not be too depressed. Actually, considering my mind state over the last year, it was probably relatively accurate. Ah, the joys of being recognised.

This weekend, I head home to Lesotho so the results of my daily writing sessions (posted on Imperfect Poetry) will probably be very irregular until Sunday. Won't have phone signal, so can't use my Blackberry & it's a mission to organise to get to email.

In a way, it will be nice to be unreachable for a few days. Keep on procrastinating on getting my cellular service unbarred for international roaming and I suspect that it is because home is the one place where I am run away from big city madness.

That's it. Easy

Kojo @ Xarra Books & other ramblings

2006-06-22T23:55:00.000+02:00

I seem to be struggling with words so:

Xarra Books present the poetry of Kojo on Saturday, 24 June at 15:00.

I will be sharing my writing from my collections 'Voices In My Head' and 'And They Say Black Men Don't Write Love Poetry'. May even do some edited stuff from my Imperfect Poetry Blog - have started re-working pieces from that space.

There will be a Q & A and I will try sound intelligent and coherent.

The whole getting up on stage in front of people has taken on a new life. My self-enforced hibernation has created a new fascination with that act - feels kind of new. We'll see whether that is a good or bad thing.

Anyone out there willing to fund a few poets from this side of the world to perform at events out there in the big bad world? If yes, holla. SA, and Africa, have been hiding creativity for too long. Busy sending out packs to international festival and poetry event organisers. They say the world is a global village and I am getting tired of seeing wonderful poets, writers, people languishing in the depression of inertia.

Okay, that's it from me for today. Not even sure I made any sense. Easy

More irrelevant conversation

2006-06-18T01:00:00.000+02:00

Another mildly eventful weekend. Friday was a public holiday in South Africa, Youth Day, which is to honour a significant moment in this country's history, namely the anniversary of the bloodiest days and the symbolic start of the June student uprisings. Sadly, like so many public holidays, it has become more about a day off and an extra day to party.

I spent Thursday nite at a Y Fm function to acknowledge the strides the youth have made in bringing about the widely covered and dramatically positive turn-around in SA. For those of you who do not know, Y FM is the main regional radio station in SA, covering the Gauteng province with Johannesburg as its heart. Y Fm is also at the heart of a lot of entertainment and youth-inspired events, concerts, etc in the region and its DJs have been at the forefront of music development and celebration in the country. Anyway, I was invited to perform to open the event, setting the stage for speeches by the Station Manager and performances by Tuks and Bricks, and DJs, including Monde. Not my usual audience and it was strange standing before a group of people who were more interested in getting their party on. I did have to compete with the bar a bit but it went down quite well, I think. I am always open to stepping out into new spaces and this definitely felt like a new space so the journey continues. Who knows, maybe I get to feature on the Y Fm website.

It's a funny world. The theory is that increased profile means increase in gigs, but the profile continues to grow with the gigs only trickling in. 2006 has been one of my quietest years and I am hoping it ends with an explosion. I could do with the good news. The future looks bright but it is today I am trying to deal with. The beat goes on.

There is a small show happening at Horror Cafe tomorrow evening at around 6 but I think it is a private event being organised by Myesha Jenkins. Building up towards next week Saturday at Xarra Books though I still do not know what I am going to be doing. You want to find out more about the store, see www.xarrabooks.com.

It's 1am and tomorrow is a long day. Moto GP and the World Cup continues (yeah, I'm a professional sport junkie) and still have to fit in actually interracting with people. Once again, I blabber unnecessarily. Easy

Words too can take up space

2006-06-14T22:35:00.000+02:00

Another day, another post. Don't know if anyone has noticed, but this becoming a regular occurence. My lengthy moments of silence are getting shortened.

With the birth of my poetry blog, http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com, this space has become one of confusion, namely what is the purpose of my regular blog. Like so many things in my life these days, there is no answer and so I flow with it, stumbling through irrelevant thoughts in the hope that there is someone out there who finds some form of relevance in these ramblings. I have learned to write without saying anything in particular, thereby filling available space.

I am a writer and I am a poet. I am really starting to believe that again and so I shall write until I have something to say. Sometimes the power of language is being able to use it for its joy, rather for the desire to actually say anything.

I ramble as usual. There is an error in one of my last posts, namely my performance at Xarra Books will take place on June 24th as opposed to this coming weekend, as previously stated. If you are in the Joburg area, please do come out and support. I am told there will be one or two poets to set the stage for my attempt at being deep so, even if it is for that, come out.

In terms of further 'performances', the calls are starting to increase so something should stick and I will probably become a lot more visible. In my own weird way, I have been in hibernation, seeking inspiration and enthusiasm. For those of you who read my words regularly, you will know of the mental blocks I have been battling to break through.

Anyway, I will try to keep all updated on whatever I hear about in terms of shows and the like, as well as where I shall be.

Enough irrelevant rambling. In the middle of the Germany versus Poland game and getting frustrated as ........ See my poetry blog for results of watching this game. I am obviously supporting Germany and Ghana in the World Cup, though I am realistic in my expectations. Okay, that's it. Till whenever. Easy

Move aside dorothy, this rabbit-hole is mine

2006-06-12T00:13:00.000+02:00

Every day I get more and more excited about the Word, yet I seem to step further and further away from being able to actually write anything. I have deadlines for all the things I seek to do, but these seem to pass without much fanfare.

I started the year off with a plan. A plan that was about evolving as a writer and performer. A plan that involved the exploration of all possible avenues available to ensure the growth of Word, in particular, my Word. This plan has been implemented purely in my head and now I seek the inspiration to somehow manifest it in the physical world. I am tired of living in my head but struggle to find the way out of the cranial rabbit-hole.

I see the path to the light, but constantly close the curtains to avoid being reminded of how much I have thought and how little I have done. I seek the spark, epiphany, the proverbial moment of clarity. I feel like a weed head, forever stuck in theory. If only I could clone myself and assign implementation to my twin, thereby allowing myself to comfortably wallow in ideas. It's all very absurd, this I know, but we are allowed dreams. These are our sole possessions in life. Our bodies can be bought and sold, our minds can molded and directed, but our dreams are rivers of smoke that continue to exist even when the naked eye cannot see them.

There's the answer. I shall continue to dream. I shall continue to dream of climbing poetry's everest and I shall continue to dream of fulfilling dreams. That way I succeed, regardless of the outcome :-)

Blah, blah, blah ..... I ramble

2006-06-10T21:21:00.000+02:00

This is such a weird space.

Every day I convince myself that poetry holds no future for me, beyond merely an expression of passion, and nearly every day something happens that creates doubt as to whether I should flee the Word without looking back once or keep on keeping on.

Often, I feel constrained by the borders of my small world, truly believing that there is more to this and that I have more to offer to a wider space. It is the inability to break beyond the bars of this self-infliced cage that frustrates me, has me questioning, has me disillusioned. Am I silly to believe that one can build a career as a poet? Am I wishful to think that I can establish myself as a poet? Is there a future in being a poet? Do I have what it takes? Is my work worth it? Do I have potential to grow, evolve and establish a legacy?

Ah, the questions.

I wonder whether I blog to expand my reach as a brand or to express and share with my fellow beings. All I ever seem to do in this space is question.

Ah, the questions.

Anyway, my poetic journey continues. Next week Saturday at Xarra Books in Newtown, Joburg, I shall be performing a selection of my poetry. Every weekend (almost), they feature a poet, provide an opportunity for the audience to ask questions, and have the poet shares their thoughts on whatever.

As to what I will talk about, share or even offer to whatever humble audience may arrive is as unknown to me as it is to you. I have reached a point where I find comfort in entering a 'poetic' space without a plan. Without intention other than sharing. At some stage I became a 'performance poet', meaning I spend weeks on end memorising poems, agonising about the writing, worrying that the audience won't feel me, etc, etc.

Now I work with what I have. I work off the page when I don't remember the words. I am finding a new respect for Words on a page and I am humbled when it is my Words I speak. Sometimes I speak other people's Words because, at that moment, they are more appropriate than mine. When I am in a space of sharing, I do just that. I do not 'perform', I am not a 'spoken word artist' or a 'performance poet'. I am just another human being defined as poet.

There are moments when I 'perform' and I am a 'spoken word artist'. That is when someone is paying me to be one. That is when someone seeks a novelty and I provide. That is when I am playing a part and I am no longer, for that moment, Kojo, but rather 'Kojo the Poet'. I am learning to be comfortable with that. I am learning that, as a human being, I deserve to be as comfortable and as happy as the next person. To dream of perfection as an artist does not imply a comfort with poverty or suffering.

Damn, that is a long post. Typing on my Blackberry, while convenient and easily done, does make it harder to truly speak. This is a moment of unhindered verbal vomit. See my other blog: http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com. Today I seem to be caught up in moments.

Who am I?

2006-06-06T21:36:00.000+02:00

We spend a lifetime dreaming of what we want to be and do and how we want to live. A doctor or lawyer goes through educational processes that enable them to achieve career dreams. They study hard, become 'professionals' and, through their work, are able to achieve their personal ambitions and desires, whether it is to start a family, become a partner, have their own practice, or whatever. While the career consumes them, who they are as a human being is defined not merely by what they do for a living but also other aspects, ie. their hobbies, their character, etc.

As an artist, it doesn't always seem like it is a liberty we have. Our art defines us as human beings. As a poet, I write about the essence of me and, therefore, am defined by what I write. Don't know if it makes sense but just my thoughts. Sometimes I actually believe I am more than just a poet and writer, but those thoughts are fleeting. Always seems like, without poetry, I am nothing or no-one. Often I wish for the liberty of just being a human being who can come home from work and, when possible, can leave career behind. But poetry stays with me, when eating, sleeping, making love, sitting on the toilet, etc. It is in my pores, in the strands of my hair, on the tip of my tongue, everywhere.

I cannot run from it even though I wish I could. I cannot give up coz even when I am not pursuing a future in poetry, I still write, sometimes with glee, sometimes with reluctance and sometimes painfully.

Just reaching out. Just speaking out.

Late night sermon

2006-05-23T01:08:00.000+02:00

They say there is no rest for the sinners and so, here I sit, at something to one in the morning, presuming that writing these words is of enough importance to justify them, when I should be sleeping. Every day I promise myself that I shall sleep at a godly hour and every day I fail to fulfil that promise. I love the night. The darkness. The silence (well, as silent as it can get in a city like Johannesburg). But society is so gung-ho about being functional from 8 to 5 that I constantly find myself out of synch and unsettled, rushing to deal with daily realities when I'd rather be sleeping, and forcing myself into bed when I'd rather be awake. And I've been that way my whole life.

Anyway, just wanted to share a bit of my evening today (well, now yesterday). Oh, please let me first apologise for my posts taking forever to show, will try figure that out - received a comment from someone who says they are only becoming visible days after I've posted. I will try post a bit further in advance, particularly around events coming up.

This evening I was blessed enough to be invited to participate in a broadcast by BBC's "World Have Your Say" in collaboration with Y FM. Imagine about 40 people (primarily youth) representing a cross section of society discussing issues that we, and listeners, felt were pertinent to the progression of this country. It was hard to get a word in but it was a fascinating journey into the heart of some of the more important social ills and stars. We delved into xenophobia, youth development, politics, etc and also had the opportunity to share in the thoughts of callers from around the world, as the show was broadcast on Y FM and BBC. Radio and TV shows are always difficult spaces to debate and share views due to the time and structure limits but every little bit helps. I also believe stuff around the discussion will be on the BBC and Y fm sites, namely www.bbcnews.com/worldhaveyoursay and www.yfm.co.za. There is not enough room to go into all the views expressed and my mind is racing, but my conclusion to the whole thing is that, in some form, the youth of the world need to 'wake up and step up'. Today I was surrounded by people who are taking responsibility and people who continue to point and expect government, their elders, God, etc to solve their problems. Time Magazine did a feature on the youth in Italy, the youth in France have been rioting, etc and it just seems like we are constantly looking to others to solve our problems. The only people who can do that is ourselves. We continue to stand on the outside and gripe, while others are finding ways to bring change. I have no complete answers but this experience has forced me to question my own contribution to the development of mankind.

We get so caught up in the differences between us, we forget how much each of us has in common. Whether black, white, green, purple, the youth throughout the world are grappling with similar problems. And we continue to wait and whine rather than getting off our butts and trying to do something, however big, or small. It is said that "once bitten, twice shy" but as a species we never seem to learn this lesson. Everyone is caught up in their little island. Just thoughts. It scares me sometimes. There is so much work to be done and the day we stop talking (yeah, and look at me blogging away .... Blah, blah) and actually start doing, there will truly be a future. I give praise to everyone who has stood up for a cause that they feel strongly about. Let's just remember that the potential for extinction is not impossible with the levels of creativity involved in dividing and destroying each other. I'm starting to sound preachy but I do belive posivity starts with one person and each of us does have the potential to create true change. Whew. Let me sleep. Easy

Moments

2006-05-21T23:35:00.000+02:00

I try to, as much as possible, use sunday evenings to introspect on the previous week and prepare my mind for the week to come. This evening the thoughts have some optimism to them, which is a refreshing change from the general stress and confusion I often find myself bogged down by. The highlight of my week was performing in the presence of President Mbeki, the President of South Africa, and an interesting mix of people from different parts of society, at the Gordon Institute of Business Science. A lot more nervous than usual, it ended up being an awesome experience with positive feedback from the President and the people there. It reminded me why I probably won't ever be able to stop. My words are always personal and when someone shares what they feel from your words with you, it is a fulfilling moment. It is not about the external, physical or outward but rather about being able to connect with another human being on a soul level.

It was also awesome to listen to the President talk and answer questions from the audience in a relaxed setting. There were some high school students in attendance from various schools around Joburg who are part of a programme at GIBS called Spirit of Youth and, to hear them talk and to listen to the questions they asked was tap into the hope that our future, while possibly difficult, will be brighter. It humbled me.

All of this goes a long way to understanding the true nature of what it is I do. The rewards of the Word go far beyond the commercial in this world of brands. As a brand, 'kojo the poet' has things he wants to achieve but those will be nothing unless coupled with the understanding that there is an element of pure human interaction and sharing that cannot be fulfilled if the Word is approached with blinders on. Reality demands its slice of flesh and so does the spirit. The challenge is to give those willingly while ensuring that there remains enough to keep on going. Easy#
Blog: http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

Usual ramblings

2006-05-17T23:44:00.000+02:00

As I fade into the poetic shadows, and drift onto the fringes of poetry, I am less in touch with what is happening on the scene in jozi. In seeking balance between the realities of modern day existence and my passions, I am finding some element of peace and direction. That said, there are still some wonderful things happening on the streets that shall realise the vision many of us see. There also continue to be avenues for successful of one's financial needs with the spiritual needs of poetry.

I love sharing my work, and this week, I shall be allowed the privilege of performing in the same space as the President of South Africa at the Gordon Institute of Business Science - Dialogue With The President Forum. As a business school, they continue to explore the merger of art with the traditional subjects of business.

A few weeks back, I also had the privilege of sitting in on a business discussion forum and I was tasked with both writing a reportback and scribbling some poetry-influenced thoughts on the discussion. Seems to have gone across very nicely.

The balance between passion and reality, for me, lies in finding a way to explore all possible relationships between corporate & creative writing. One day I shall find the perfect balance, but it does feel like I am getting closer. I am a lot more optimistic about the future and feeling less pressured by time.

Anyway, other events taking place in poetry are at Xarra Books in Newtown, which continues to push the written and spoken word in Joburg. Check out their calendar of events at www.xarra.com (I think). Will try get the full calendar for the rest of the month and share.

I will be featured there in June, which should be interesting experience. Busy developing the results of my daily writing sessions which are posted on http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com. A lot of the stuff doesn't work, but I do think there are some with some potential. Time will tell.
Blog: http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

Running in one place

2006-05-09T22:47:00.000+02:00

As poets, writers and people of the Word, one of the most exhilirating moments we can achieve is to see our words in print. The publishing of a book, for me, is as much for the writer (if not more) as it is about the desire to share and make one's voice heard. Unless you are writing a best seller or something of high demand, one cannot get rich, or even comfortable off the sales of a book. This is more so with poetry.

I published two collections of poetry as the achievement of a dream, the reaching of a milestone that I spent over 10 years pursuing. I also discovered that the achievement of a dream is not always as it is dreamed. There was an anti-climax that has driven me into a rut I am still attempting crawl out of. The first thing that hit me was 'now what?!'. I have toyed with many an idea looking for that next hit, that next shot that would re-inspire me and still I search.

My next book is a year or two away, so I need something to nourish myself with something else. I still haven't found an answer but I am getting closer and that comes from re-defining myself and re-discovering why it is I write, or at least attempt to write, poetry. This desire to write is a desire beyond merely poetry and the next stage for me is about improvement and evolution as an all-round writer.

It is easier said than done. It means more work, hard work. Writing, like any other career, requires an unwavering devotion to perfection. Devotion to craft. Devotion to experience. Devotion to living life, which serves as the foundation for great writing.

Sometimes it feels like too much. Sometimes it seems fruitless. But, the desire to write is like a drug. I cannot stop.

Hibernation

2006-05-06T00:13:00.000+02:00

For those of you who keep up with my Imperfect Poetry blog, you will probably have realised that I have become somewhat disillusioned with this whole poetic existence. Funnily enough, I have still been relatively regular with daily poetry postings but haven't been up to conversation on my Imperfect Poet blog, namely because I haven't known what to say.

So much internal dialogue going on that it is damn near impossible to translate all of that into written word. But here I am, still plodding along. I have spent the last two months systematically withdrawing from the poetry scene here in Johannesburg. I need a break, particularly from the whole 'performance poet' state of mind, and I am taking all the necessary steps to free myself from expectation, both mine and others.

This decision to hibernate has some interesting side effects. My focus all along has been on the overall development of poetry, in addition to my growth as a poet, and I have reached the point where the development work was draining my energy, drawing it away from from my personal growth. As I withdraw, my enthusiasm for the written word increases.

Where all of this is going, I do not know, but all I have is time to figure it out. The moment I stopped stressing about time and my definition of what is success, I started re-discovering why it is I enjoy the written word.

Meanwhile, I am still doing the occassional gig, in addition to all my business writing work. Tomorrow night, I perform at the National School of the Arts, a high school that emphasises the arts. We'll see how that goes.

Anyway, just wanted to reach out and touch. Easy

Love the darkness

2006-04-25T22:39:00.000+02:00

Poetry. Spoken Word. Finding space and seeking pragmatic progress in an artform that does not lend itself to illusions of material grandeur. If you seek the comfort of comfortable living then perhaps you should pursue other avenues. My evolution is born of reality and truth. "In Word We Trust" does not answer all the questions, experience is the key.

I have travelled through the phases of poetic life: enthusiasm, excitement, passion, pragmatism, disillusionment, denial, acceptance. I have travelled and now must accept the truth. Poetry as a 'career' is a long and winding road and, at some point, it must be put aside for more realistic endeavours. I shall always write but it cannot be the only thing I do ..... That is a truth and I accept. It is a marathon as opposed to a sprint (as cliched as can be). Today I rest. Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall become a poet once more, but today, I rest.

My comfort is in my notebooks. In these moments I shall bask in the silence and breathe the chaos that exists internally. I shall let the voices dictate what tomorrow holds. I shall no longer attempt to pre-empt them. The beauty of the future is that it is unknown. I lower myself into this pool of mystery and embrace its cool, calm waters.

Trying to get from here to there

2006-04-10T23:43:00.000+02:00

Last week has been disastrous. Have become so dependent on my Blackberry to post and, for some reason, my email hasn't been working ... BUT, it's back. Although just posted 3 times to www.imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com, so still a bit shaky.

Anyway, life as a poet has been slow, though my mind has been in overdrive. It's my birthday today (soon to be yesterday for me) and I am doing the whole 're-evaluation of life' thing. Once again, I wonder what it is about The Word that continues to have me turning down opportunities to work in other genres.

It is time to put my poetry development projects on the back-burner and focus on actually making a living. A difficult choice to make but, at some stage, pragmatism has to take over. I do it willingly because it is frustrating blindly pursuing dreams and not enjoying the journey. I have issues with the idea of an artist as society's martyrs in touch with humankind's suffering.

As an artist, I believe we are all entitled to the pleasures and joys of living - emotionally, physically, mentally and financially ...... especially financially. Creativity and innovation, for me, require calm and focus. When hustling to connect ends, there is no time to devote to the requirements of perfection in craft.

I dream of spending months writing, reading, exploring the beauty of the written word. But need to know the bills are paid.

A journey all artists have to take and one I am feeling less and less enthusiastic about. Damn, it is irritating being a dreamer

Been a while

2006-04-04T23:24:00.000+02:00

It's been a while since I've posted - that seems to be a regular occurrence. Have been keeping my imperfect poetry going regularly, though finally missed out on a day. It is getting harder to maintain my daily 10minute writing session and haven't had much time to actually develop what I have written into finished pieces. Feel like poetry is drifting away from me. The pursuit of 'life' and its trials has me pursuing reality and questioning the ideal of 'living for my passion'.

Things have been quiet on the poetic front generally. Hibernating from the running around and focusing more on a number of projects to carry it beyond this mini-treadmill. I am feeling stifled by my 'home' environment and would love to break out a bit. The world is big and it is starting to feel like I need to start exploring other parts, ie. Europe, the US and the rest of the African continent. Budget is low so looking for funding opportunities to that regard. Would love to do a tour of the European and American summer art festivals. Time will tell my success at that. Watch this space.

Just venting a little today. Easy runnings.

We speak words

2006-03-14T22:29:00.000+02:00

This feels strange. Due to technical difficulties, I am unable to go online and check my blogs which means I am unable to respond to comments, although I do get to read them. Feel detached.

But I can still post.

Last week's been surprisingly poetic. Did national adjudication of poetry category for Department of Water Affairs & Forestry's Baswa Le Meetse Awards for 10, 11 year old kids.

Did two radio interviews last thursday & this morning and the next few days busy with:

1. Press conference for Jozi Literary Festival - tomorrow
2. Gig @ Mzansi Orleans in Norwood, Joburg @ 19:30 - tomorrow night
3. Performance @ Jozi Literary Festival Gala event - Friday night
4. Performance @ Jozi Literary Festival - Saturday afternoon

All of this makes me feel like a real poet. Yeah, I'm easy to please.

If you in Joburg area and interesting in coming out, then drop me an email and I'll send details.

From there, it is a much needed trip home to Lesotho.

Nothing new

2006-03-09T00:26:00.000+02:00

Okay, this isn't anything new but:

1. How is the NBA champion the 'world champion'?
2. How is it the 'world series' of baseball?

Basically, why are champions of American leagues always called 'world champions'?

Was watching a documentary on John Wayne who was referred to, by a friend trying to motivate for him getting a medal, as 'America'. Was a big Duke fan growing up and I had most of his movies on video but learned more about his right wing leanings ... He referred to minorities as 'double barrelled Americans' who should be grateful for living in a country that is the best in the world. What did that say about the rest of us? Does the 'world champion' thing not imply that the rest of us are just taking up space?

Just thoughts ...

Soul on Ice

2006-03-05T23:42:00.000+02:00

I have been re-reading a book I first read while still in high school - Soul On Ice, by Eldridge Cleaver, former rapist, convict, Muslim, Black Panther Minister of Information, etc.

It is fascinating to be able to read it with a greater awareness of the world around me, having lived and experienced more since my last reading. What scared me about the book is that there are elements that still seem so relevant to the world order we reside in today. At times, it felt like I could substitute places and names from today with those of yesterday.

I am one of those people who believes we are all doing what we should be doing in the spaces that we are supposed to be in - the cliche 'everything happens for a reason' comes to mind. Finished the book this morning and ended up being convinced to go to the movies with a friend of mine. I say convinced because I very rarely step into cinema houses; I prefer to wait for films to come out on DVD and watch them in the bosom of my own home. Everything is cheaper there and I have more control.

Anyway, we ended up watching Syriana which, through pointing the lens at issues such as the power of oil companies, the ruthlessness of multi-national business and government, the world of 'terrorism', etc. At the core of the movie, although a bit disjointed and confusing to follow, I found it delved into some of the causes behind the actions of people controlling the puppet strings, touching on some of the things that Cleaver discusses.

The world today can be a frightening place and, for those of us living outside the US, it sometimes feels like we are being pushed towards a vision that does not incorporate us and we serve merely as collateral damage and the numbers required to push certain things through.

All I know is that if US politics and business operate minutely similar to what is shown in Syriana, then we truly are in trouble.

time

2006-03-02T22:14:00.000+02:00

i have been so busy trying to maintain my Imperfect Poetry blog that i haven't had the time to actually post here. i am glad to say that i have been able to post a poem a day as planned since i started - some go out after midnite, but they do go out. it does get a bit confusing trying to figure out the purpose of each space and come up with thoughts to share. i spend so much time bogged down in ideas and good intentions, which often never get past 'head space' and into reality. it is said that an idea is useless until implemented and i have thousands. can one ever have too many ideas? how often do we seek 'visionary thought', assuming that when you are able to see the great possibilities, you will have accomplished something? i find that i see the possibility but i never seem to get anything done ... there is never enough time, and the time available is usually used 'chasing paper'. it's a weird catch-22 situation to be in and the day i find peace in the madness is the day i fulfill my wildest dreams.

today, on radio, they had people phoning in to talk about the artistic endeavours that they always wanted to pursue but never did because of 'reality'. there were people in business talking about their dreams to be dancers, actors, etc. sometimes i wonder whether people ever realise how tough it is to actually follow your passion. i smsed the statio to say that i wanted to be a powerful owner of a multi-national, forget being arty. in that situation, i could do anything i want. i always figure that if i won the lottery, i would be able to finance, produce and distribute books, CDs, etc, all tied to my passion. that would be fun. this... this is stress. stuck in a place where it is your passion that drives while starving you. one day it will all make sense.

#end

2006-02-24T01:16:00.000+02:00

Just got home from a gig. If I take myself seriously, is it unreasonable to expect others to do the same? Have I spent the last seven years trying to build a concept, a brand, only to be treated like I am being done a favour? Is it unreasonable to expect to be treated like a professional or does being an 'artist' mean that I automatically exist at the bottom of society's food chain. Is it me? Arriving at a gig and discovering you are not even in the programme and staying to perform; am I the problem? Should I have left? Questions, questions, questions......

I have recently discovered
That I do not exist

A lifetime of laughter
Smothered

An existence extensively laced with experience
Wiped clean

Tears lived
Dried up

Blood running through arteries
Blocked

Why bother when it is a world that does not see me
That defines me

I have become the invisible man
Walking the streets without presence

I am no longer stopped
Restricted
Heard

I think
But I am not

I have become nothing

Free from responsibility
Free from duty
Free from being
Free

Beyond the glass ceiling

2006-02-20T23:46:00.000+02:00

After banging my head on the glass ceiling for what seems like forever, I have finally chipped enough of a hole to taste the air above. Dreamers live with the weight of failure on their shoulders - the dreams stopped when achieved or when the soul gets too tired of trying. I am not yet tired but it often seems close; then I have days like today when the smallest thing ignites a flame that has the potential to become a fire.

Following years of procrastination, I finally recorded some poetry for a poetry video concept that I am working on with a friend of mine. Thanks to Kurt & e-poets, I have finally done something and, in doing so, remembered why creativity is such a beautiful thing. Beyond the materialism and the trivial is creativity that feeds the heart and inspires the soul.

The end destination is not to achieve immense wealth, but rather to build enough of a financial base to do the things we love to do. A simple act of recording a poem with a clear purpose in mind re-awakened me to this. We spend so much time trying to deal with day-to-day reality that we often forget what gives us pleasure. It's a beautiful space to be in.

Just wanted to share. The Imperfect Poetry Blog, while hard work, is coming along nicely. I've been able to, so far, maintain the daily posts (some days in the wee hours of the morning) and some of the writings are actually coherent. Would appreciate your constructive thoughts.

Easy. Sleep beckons.

When the words won't come

2006-02-17T16:23:00.000+02:00

In my other life, I do business writing for a variety of clients in different industries. Right now, I have my hands full with work for TV production houses, which is nice, coz having been dormant for the last few months, I finally have work to do.

But the words won't come.....

Creative writer's block is easier to deal with. This is frustrating because I have deadines and invoices to submit. The irony is that, creatively, the mental pistons are beginning to pump. Now if I could get everything to function efficiently and effectively at the same time, I could build visions by merely breathing. I keep remembering the phrase "if it was meant to be easy, it wouldn't be called 'life'". Little consolation at the start of another long weekend.

Anyway, I will battle my way through it, like everything else. In the mean time, if you are in Joburg this weekend, come through to Xarra Books in Newtown for a Poetry Dialogue with the Italian Publishing house, Avagliano Publishing. They are looking to publish an anthology of young South African poets, to be translated in Italian.

The book will be accompanied by a DVD of the gathering tomorrow, which will include an informal poetry session.

It is great to see the interest in our poetry building beyond South African borders. Getting tired of being limited to our space and want to now grow into a global artists - hence this Blog and the Imperfect Poetry Blog which has started off well enough, I hope.

Come through if you around this space. Enjoy your weekend. Easy runnings.

instant poetry

2006-02-14T00:14:00.000+02:00

Like thousands of writers in a bid to improve the words we put on blank pages, and to awaken the muse, I am building a little library of poetry and writing related books. My new 'toy' is a. Penguin Rhyming Dictionary I picked up today to replace the one that sprouted feet, jumped off my shelf and strolled out my house.

Anyway, this mini-collection includes a lovely book called A Writer's Book of Days by Judy Reeves, which has quotes and tips on writing, with the primary one being around writing practice. It is recommended that a writer must set an appointment with him/herself every day and just write. To facilitate this process, the book has a 'topic' for every day of the year as inspiration.

I have, over the last few years, tried to maintain this habit, to varying levels of success. I have a poetry journal that I write in whenever I get the chance, which is not as often as I'd like. To improve on this, I have often tapped a few lines into my phone just before I switch off the bedside lamp. Well, now that I've had my mind opened to the capacity to post by email, I've been toying with how to take advantage of this, in the hope that it will have some relevance.

I have created a new blog, Imperfect Poetry (http://imperfectpoetry.blogspot.com), on which I will attempt to post my midnight ramblings on a daily basis - starting tomorrow. It will be raw, unedited, at times interesting, often nonesensical and confusing, but also a peak into the stuff that often sits in my notebooks, never to been seen. Would be nice to hear your thoughts / comments on whether I should go with this or not.

Blog currently blank but link already on The Imperfect Poetry, will start posting tomorrow. Easy

the sun rise

2006-02-10T23:06:00.000+02:00

This has been a good poetry week for me. The shift in direction is opening up a whole new world of word and I am loving it. Firstly, I have been invited to adjudicate the poetry segment of the Department of Water Affairs & Forestry Baswa Le Meetse Awards. The Awards are for kids of about 10/11 years old who have put together creative expression of clean and healthy living in categories like poetry, theatre, praise singing and fine arts.

Also, yesterday I performed, and was part of the panel with Lebo Mashile, at the launch of a wonderful collection of poetry, An Infinite Longing For Love, by Lisa Combrinck. I was humbled by the beauty of her words and inspired by the passionate discourse that took place. The launch was at Xarra Books, a black-owned bookshop that gives space to so many african authors. We struggle to get African written books in most bookshops & Xarra has come to the rescue. They have a monthly programme of literary-related events so if you want to find out more, email them on info at xarrabooks.com.

Things are getting busier & I will try to keep you updated on events so, if you in the johannesburg area, check them out.

FOTOSAFARI is at the Market Theatre Lab tomorrow (Saturday) night. Using a mixture or poetry, video, slide projections, song and dance, the FOTOSAFARI theater experience breaks from traditional forms of plot and character and paints a picture of cultural fusion. It starts at 7h30pm, costs R30 and features Napo Masheane, Debra Leshika, Makgano Mamabolo, Nomena Struss and Paul Mojalefa. FOTOSAFARI cultural exchange is a collaboration of 120 participants from South Africa and Germany who used photography to capture and share their stories and lifestyle.

Hoping to be there tomorrow night. Was also happening tonight but wasn't able to go. Anyway, let me get to bed. Still loving this email thing. Just realised I do need to go online and clean stuff up.

Thought:

I was born a poet
Speechless, my poetry was in breath, gurgles & laughter

When I cried
The tears sung lullabies
Tracing the innocence of my face

I was born a poet
But am a poet no longer
I am in the infancy of a poetic reality
And one day
I will be a poet once more

Easy

while the world sleeps

2006-02-07T23:56:00.000+02:00

Who decided that the world needs to operate from 8am to 5pm? Who decided that there was a system we have to follow to be considered a functional element of society. I love the night, especially after 10pm. The world goes quiet and, at about midnight, one could actually believe they were alone in this world (well, if they ignored the trucks and streetcrawlers outside their window - I live next to a main road).

Sitting here trying to be creative, working on proposals for clients and trying to develop my own concepts. So much to do and I am expected to wake up tomorrow morning. Sleep all day, write all night - that's the way to live. In addition to working on poetry, I am trying my hand at scriptwriting for television, film and theatre. My dream is become the person to call, regardless of what you want written down, from creative to business - new cause.

Oh, and I am looking for pictures. If you have any pictures lying around, please share. Would like pictures which I can use for inspiration to write and include on my blog. So much synergy between the various artforms (Helen does it beautifully on Box of Rain - see my links), and I hope to explore every one in the search for the perfect poem. I have a painting on my wall that a friend (Peter Oellermann) did a while ago, inspired by one of my poems.

So much do
So much of life to get through

The night is the soundtrack
To my dreams
The rhythm I dance to
While I knit words
Soul coming apart at the seams

Why find the answers
When it is the questions
That truly matter

Just words. Just thoughts. This is what happens when the sun slips into the northern hemisphere and the south embraces darkness. Mental masturbation.

Easy

wet & wonderful

2006-02-06T22:42:00.000+02:00

It seems to actually work. Don't know whether I should be troubled by my initial ignorance or excited by the discovery (Roy, you the man). I promise this is my last post for today, just thrilled by the powers of technology.

A warm rainy night
It's 1 in the morning
Mind wanders randomly

Today has been a day of discovery. In the more positive half of my schizophrenic self today and the future looks bright-ish. Have a few things in the pipeline that may provide impetus to my search for the perfect poem.

Will share more as things fall into place.

Starting to write again, following a few months of frustration. As I find direction, writing becomes more fun. It's a beautiful space to be in. Working on the craft but will continue to share the words. Hopefully, they grow as I grow.

Alright, let me go sleep. You know I'll probably be posting again tomorrow.

Easy

Experimentation

2006-02-06T22:23:00.000+02:00

One of the difficulties of the blogging experience is having time to sit down in front of my PC and actually put down some thoughts. Thoughts that often come to me during the course of the day.

My blogging 'mentor', Roy, just drew my attention to the fact that I can blog from email. I am fortunate enough to have a Blackberry to keep me company, while also forwarding my emails to me, while on the road, this discovery has me excited. I have dealt with the necessary 'setting up' and this is my first attempt at posting sans PC.

Apologies if this does not come out the way it should, or is all twisted. It is all for the sake of progress. This way I can bombard this space endlessly.

Easy
Blog: http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

apologies

2006-02-06T21:53:00.000+02:00

it seems this mail-to thing is duplicating some of my posts. please be patient with me while i figure the whole thing out. have posts on that are not reflected in my 'dashboard' and posts that aren't making it. :-(

Wolf

2006-02-06T21:45:00.000+02:00

Alone is not loneliness
Lullabies sung to oneself
Carry the same melody

Words unspoken
Carry the same meaning
Something to break the silence

Chaos begats violence
There is no self
In the rules
And so I break them

This morning I awoke
And heard a lone bird whisper my name
In a conversation with itself

And found myself
Blog: http://infinitepursuit.blogspot.com
Poetry:
www.artistswithoutfrontiers.com (Writer's Section)
http://othervoicespoetry.org/vol8/baffoe/index.html

just

2006-01-25T23:15:00.000+02:00

this week has been schizophrenic. i seem to fluctuate between complete optimism to downright pessimism and back every few minutes. i must say that it is some of you that have been responsible for the moments of hope through your comments and, for that, i am truly grateful.

the one advantage of these silent, quiet times is that i am spending more time looking at life in terms of what i want to achieve in the long term and what the elements of my life mean to me. it is often said that we must look at what we are grateful for, think positive thoughts and it will all work out in the end. cliched but i am a believer... it is just easier to say than actually practice, so i exist in chaos.

anyway, i found a piece i wrote a while back (in one of the many notebooks that serve as reference points when i am struggling to write), which I would like to share. as part of my whole quest to find the perfect poem, but going 'back to basics' and exploring what has come before me, i have been browsing these notebooks in the hope that there is growth and also identify room for growth. this poem 'stereotypical mumbo-jumbo' was merely a release of emotion and so i do not consider it something that needs to be worked on. if i had not discovered the blogging experience, it would probably never has seen light of day.

writing great poetry, for me, is balancing the emotion, thought and feeling with the craft. i seek perfection in both but some words are meant to be pure emotion... i apologise for the language ... although i can cuss like a veteran sailor, i tend to feel uncomfortable when incorporating it in my poetry but... here it is:

what’s all this shit about failure?
this illusion that beginning and end
must follow some archaic plan
I start, I travel, I climb
the ladder of false success
or I stumble and fall

what’s all this shit about success?
pursuit of material wealth
the money, the fancy car and the girl
seems to travel down some linear road
to a where that has
no real destination

what’s all this shit about right?
implying that your way
is the only true measure
of options available
to exist

what’s all this shit about wrong?
blindly believing that any state of mind
that is beyond
your narrow minded comprehension
cannot be right

what’s all this shit about…. ?

writer's lock

2006-01-22T20:33:00.001+02:00

in the attempt to redefine myself, as a poet, a writer and a human being, i haven't been writing much.... out of choice. let's call it "writer's lock". the occassional scribble does take place and, in the interest of continued sharing, below is a recent, incomplete, one. i committed to sharing to process as opposed to merely the final, polished 'product', and so:

throat clogged

heart choked

eyes glazed

mind hazed

hands tremble

spirit confused

early morning blues

i ... i ... i have so much to say

the words get in the way

i stutter

stammer

forget how to form structure

i know this

it's there

lurking

hiding

primed

i think

i can speak

i need a plan

i think therefore i am ................................................

i am cold

very cold ..................................

starting over

2006-01-22T20:33:00.000+02:00

This dependency on an old PC and an extremely slow dial-up line is becoming more and more frustrating. Plus the cost of logging on and surfing the web is more than I can handle right now, hence my extended periods of silence. Having found / established a home within the Blogging realm, it is difficult not being able to speak one’s mind and share in one’s thoughts on a regular basis.

The one positive is that, during this period, I have spent a great deal reflecting on ‘the meaning of it all’, especially since lightening fried my telly. I am a member of two poetic electronic discussion spaces and the last two weeks have been riddled with extensive discussion on various aspects of poetry, particularly around performance and writing.

I do feel that, within the ‘movement’ I operate, I have reached a relative ceiling in terms of my ability and evolution as a writer and spoken word artist, and, as a result, have been looking for what could be termed ‘the next step’. The discussions I have been privy to, have given me a clearer idea of what I need to find that direction.

At the heart of this epiphany is that, for me to comfortably call myself a poet and a writer, I need to delve deeper into my forms of choice and create context from the wealth of work that has come before me. In doing this, I am in a stronger position to be able to define and identify what it is I do and how it fits into the general scheme of things.

There is a sad belief, especially among young aspiring poets in my space, that what we are doing transcends what has been done. The question that has come to the fore is ‘how?’, to which I personally have no answers. To answer, I need to know WHAT HAS BEEN DONE BEFORE.

These discussions are too lengthy to detail here by if you do a search for UCT Poetry Web, as well as visit E-Poets Network (link available on my Blog), then you might be able to access some of the discussion. How I am able to take the words ‘spoken’ and translate them into better writing and ‘performing’ will be the gauge from which my body of work, in years to come, is perceived. A scary, but exciting space, to be in, but that is how important it is. I feel like I am only beginning this poetic journey. Easy

fake celebrity

2006-01-09T22:00:00.000+02:00

Lately, I have become fascinated with the whole concept of celebrity - probably from watching too much of that blasted 'Entertainment' channel. Celebrity, which my trusty Oxford dictionary defines as 1. well-known person 2. fame, seems to have become extremely tacky. How difficult is it to become a 'well-known person'? As a result of my forays into the poetic scene in Johannesburg (and the fact that I have friends in strategic spaces), I have had my fair share of 5 seconds of fame on the telly and radio.

Even today, I shot an interview for a TV show called 20something (don't tell them I am way beyond that), where I was given the opportunity to rant on about my theories on inspiration, poetry and life. I have done enough of these to feel comfortable with a camera in my face and people in my home town now believe I am rolling in the cash and living it up in the big city because of these brief appearances.... you all know how that is going (see previous posts). Oh, if you do want to see the interview (for those in SA), it is on Sunday at 1pm.

Anyway, the point I am trying to get to is in the form of a question: because I have been on telly a little bit, does that mean I am a celebrity, or is my level of decadence not up there enough. How is celebrity truly defined? Should it not be based on one's accomplishment? Today I was asked what do I feel my accomplishments are as a poet.... my answer - I still have a long way to go so I can't really answer that (okay, that and a nice spiel about contributions to the artform and the publishing of two books).

It just seems like celebrity has become the new religion, with American culture being the dominant feature. Very little is said about the people who are actually making things happen. I love film and music as much as the next person- if not more - but shouldn't we be celebrating the people who are in the trenches changing lives positively. How does 50 Cent's house party compare to an HIV/AIDS hospice run by volunteers in the middle of rural Uganda? Yeah, I admit that I am as guilty when it comes to where I place my attention, but I am trying to change that.

My new theory is that we all need a cause ... something to drive us beyond the triviality of this material physicality. Something concrete. I am searching for mine. One of my favourite poems is by Miguel Pinero 'Seeking a cause'. Easy runnings

another beginning

2006-01-08T21:24:00.000+02:00

Greetings. We have finally made it through the usual festive madness and, tomorrow, everyone starts crawling back into the office.. well, everyone except for me. I am officially self-employed, following a few months of unemployment. The end and beginning of every year serve as periods of introspection, re-evaluation and resolutions for many of us. Never been big on the resolution thing, but I do try to take the opportunity to re-examine my life and determine where I am going. My biggest decision was that, the minute we hit 01/01/2006, I would re-define myself as self-employed. It is said 'we manifest our thoughts' ... this is my way.

Truth be told, that is as far as I have been able to go in developing a plan for 2006. In fact, I am probably more confused about my future than I have been in a long time. Is poetry in my future? Should I just get a normal corporate job? Am I on the right track? What am I doing wrong? It's the questions that define us. And I still struggle to find the right questions that will give me answers that inspire peace of mind.

Anyway, have been doing a little scribbling over the last month. Nothing complete, some things slightly coherent, but lots of ideas. Thought I would start off the year with this. May your dreams be fulfilled.

the answers are not in the lamentation

the tragic memories of yesterday

they do not come to us in blood

that runs through ancient rivers

or in the tears and pain that paint the sky red

coating the clouds with a twisted crimson

the solutions are not born out of repetition

recycled words of a past & present reality

history is not washed clean by a never-ending chant

babylon will not be defeated with hollow words or idle dreams

the revolution HAS been televised

and we missed it

fingering remotes

flipping through channels

the revolution had more than a cat's nine lives

and still it died

because tomorrow was never built on a lack of hope

hope implies looking into tomorrow and not yesterday

a future implies working towards something

not drowning in a past riddled with hate

living implies clarity & vision & dreams

beyond the haze is infinite discourse

the future is in the hands

of those who live the revolution in action

each brick carefully laid

each word carefully spoken

each battle ground carefully chosen

each action transcending reaction

when this happens

the revolution shall be reborn

and live again

home sweet home

2005-12-23T15:07:00.000+02:00

I've been really quiet over the last few weeks, working through getting my life back, following the armed robbery at my house. They say 'when it rains, it pours', I am learning the power of the universe and its ability to push you in the direction you need to go, even if it is kicking and screaming. The last few months have been insane and I have been forced to re-visit life and my role in this madness.

I've been stressed... so stressed I got tired of being stressed and decided to relax and let things follow their natural course. The year started full of excitement and optimism and, in a very twisted way, I am re-discovering my enthusiasm for life. I threatened to quit the whole 'being a poet' experience but have found that, when I am not focused on poetry being the breadwinner, the joy and passion that comes with writing returns.

I have always tried to use this time of the year as a period of introspection, a period to look inward with complete honesty, a time to be true to oneself. I am now home in Maseru, Lesotho (look it up in a map if you don't know where that is), with family and am rediscovering what is important. I sometimes wonder why I punish myself by continuing to try to build a foundation in a country that is not my own at the expense of my own country... the answer is for me to build and develop both at home and beyond.

Never been one for New Year's resolutions but I have promised myself that in 2006, I will do more not only for my adopted country and my home country, but beyond too. We supposedly live in a global village and the only way we can ensure that we do have enough of a world to enjoy in the future, we all need to throw in our two cents. I am going to throw in mine.

I am writing a lot more, so there will be more poetry in this space in the future. Hopefully, there will also be more about poetry globally. I am one man, part of a worldwide poetic family and it is time we started sharing, talking, laughing, working and playing together.

If I do not make it back here before the end of the year, have yourselves a beautiful one. For Christians, Christmas has a particular significance. For the rest of us, it is time to spend with the ones you love and celebrate another year of happiness, success and fulfilment. You are still breathing ... keep it that way.

Easy Runnings

poetry pimp...

2005-12-07T10:37:00.000+02:00

When it comes to poetry, I have a few categories for everything I write. There is written, performance, personal and pimped poetry, to name a few. Seems relatively straight forward but I am sure you are wondering about the pimped thing. Well, this is basically poetry for money, with no qualms about what it is for. As an idealist poet in search of perfection, this does fly in the face of the legacy I am trying to create, but .... sometimes .... it is just about eating.

Anyway, just found a poem I wrote and performed at an event for Amstel on a hot Saturday afternoon, on the top deck of a boat, with a band jamming in the background. A bit long, but thought I would share .... it does work better when heard but .... yeah .... here goes:

Shh, close your eyes and picture a place
I said, close your eyes and picture a place
A calm & soothing space
An peaceful, tranquil space
A space where everything makes sense
Free from the day-to-day stress

It’s dark outside
But you’re inside
And inside the feeling is just right

Do you see it?

Okay, now listen,

You hear music
Soulful, funky music
Passionate, real life music
The kind of music that crawls up your spine
And puts a smile on your face
The kind of music that has your soul dancing

Brown sugar music
Soulchild music
Let’s get it on music
I know you know the kind of music I’m talking about

In the background you hear voices and laughter
Faint traces of cologne and perfume tickle the air
Around you there is joy, and laughter, and smiles
That reach the eyes and break the shallow surface
Of a distorted reality

This is where you belong

Feel the clothes on your back
The ground beneath your feet
The cushions beneath your ….
Gently caressing your body
As you lean back in total rest

Reach out for your drink
Awaiting your embrace
It lingers
On a coffee table on your right

Pick it up
Let the chill factor engulf you

Take it slow, don’t rush it
Take a sip, just a sip
In your presence, in this space,
Time stands at attention
Slave to your direction
This is a moment of reflection
Introspection, resurrection

The liquid trickles down your throat
Count to twenty-one
And take another sip

Taste it, hold onto that feeling
Savour it
Feel the room around you
The atmosphere, the ambience
Feels good, doesn’t it?
The height of sophistication yet comforting
Classy and smooth
It feels slow brewed
Filled with kindred souls
All in the same space
This is home….

Now open your eyes
You’re on a gently swaying boat
As you glide seamlessly through the water
The sun dancing carelessly on the ripples
The breeze whispering dreams in your ear
The trees murmur and bow in your presence
Your soul is at one with the universe
Okay, now repeat after me

I’m still thirsty!

I had to write this around the brand characteristics of the product and incorporate those elements into the poem. I do think there are some nice elements in it that I would like to carry forward. Any suggestions on how I can remove the Amstel feel and build on this would be greatly appreciated.

passing through

2005-12-06T10:43:00.000+02:00

I am caught in a labyrinth, crawling through the trenches of my twisted soul, seeking something I cannot define. Everything around me is familiar, and strange - all at the same time. Utopia is a worthy cause, but how can we truly appreciate light, if there is no darkness. I am lost only because I know what it is like to be found. I write nearly every day but on most days there is no comfort in the words because I know what comforting words sound like. Often I sit in prolonged silence just so I can find joy in the sound of a butterfly's wings flapping. Plus the sound of my voice sounds so much better when unused. I listen because I love to be heard. I ramble in those moments when I have so much to say, there is nothing that can be said. The letters and words choose themselves and I am merely a channel for madness and chaos that, in most places, would be considered normal. The world we live in is so abnormal it has become normal to be strange, and familiar - all at the same time. This is strange. We are strange. I am strange. I am normal.

more drama

2005-11-30T11:54:00.000+02:00

I am writing this in a truly confused state of mind with 28 minutes left on the meter at an Internet Cafe. You see, I am at the mercy of this spaces for the first time in years, so it is really strange for me. I have always had access to the net. I have always functioned as a mobile office - as a writer, I love hanging out in coffee shops typing or scribbling away, coming up with new poems or new schemes for 'taking over the world. Today I realise how dependent I have become on technology, especially my laptop and cellphone, and now I am without.

At about 2.15am on Tuesday morning, the missus and I were awoken by a bright light in our bedroom. A man, of unknown origin, was standing at the bottom of our bed. He proceeded to silence us with a few strong words and the waving of a gun, also of unknown origin. After relieving our bedroom of our cellphones, jewellery and the missus' handbag, he told us to keep still and not move while he went back into the living room to finish up his night's work. Once he was out of the room, I jumped up, locked the bedroom door and we fled to 'safety' through our bathroom window.

As a result of this experience, I am now without two laptops and two cellphones, which means my ability to stay in touch with the world has become extremely limited. Ever the optimist, I am working on the theory that this state will only last for a week or two.

Not only can I not access the outside world, I have also lost most of my work from the last 5 months. I feel useless because I have always turned to the keyboard when bored, inspired, etc. That has been my source of income, joy and purpose. Now it is gone.

I suspect there is some great poetry in the experience but I am currently at a loss for words so please do forgive should I fall short in the next week or two. I shall recover.

I am now left with 17 minutes and need to attend to some other things before, so I shall be back soon. Easy

resuscitation

2005-11-27T21:18:00.000+02:00

I have a problem. I suspect all writers have this, but mine is rearing its twisted head again. I have a tendency of writing anywhere, any place and anytime on anything. To avoid carrying scraps of paper around, I have a collection of little black books that I carry with me to ensure that I always have something to write on. Problem is that it ends up being a different book everyday so I have writings everywhere, that I never keep track of.

Actually, the one positive is that, like money in the pocket of a jacket you haven't worn in a while, finding them always brings so much joy. Anyway, a friend of mine, Ayob, who tends to be keeper of my writings - my hard drive once crashed with all my work in it so I send them to Ayob as offsite backups - recently found a few poems I wrote over a year ago. This has inspired me to start reading some of my old work. I even performed a few this weekend at the Blackword Poetry Festival in Johannesburg as well as at a gig last week for the Gordon Institute of Business Science. (Oh, I got Ayob into blogging so check out http://ispeakwords.blogspot.com - Revival of the Mentally Dead)

Thought I'd drag one out for you, which is from my book Voices In My Head, called 'listen to your footsteps' (why do I think I have posted this before? Must check & keep track):

i close doors
and hotbox minds with vocal dexterity
i twist meaning
and shade my ego from emotion
i lay my soul naked before strangers
and hide my heart with thick bush
i dance to god’s toe taps
and drown in the rhythm of doubt
i stand brave before giants
and quiver in the presence of children
i recite words repeatedly
and pray for salvation in affirmation
i listen to my footsteps
and search for the future in sound
i inhale weed smoke
and hope for spiritual clarity
i embrace confusion
and dream of normality
i keep both feet on the ground
and seek altered mind states
i see angels in every corner
and denounce ghosts in haunted houses
i live my truth
and epitomise hypocrisy
i justify lies with simple answers
and i am human
look into my shattered mirror
and listen to your footsteps

Latest news: I think I am starting to enjoy this poetry thing again... the last few months have been filled disillusion and frustration, but I think I am starting to remember why it is I write. As long as I do not depend on the Word as my passage to wealth, I shall be find.

Also, I finally got my books into a bookshop called Xarra Books. If you are in Johannesburg, or are ever in Johannesburg, do visit Xarra in the Newtown Cultural Precinct. While you are there, pick up Voices In My Head and And They Say: Black Men Don't Write Love Poetry.

That's a lot of words for one day.

Easy

hibernation

2005-11-23T09:48:00.000+02:00

I have spent the last two months wallowing in a state of hibernation, reflecting on life, love and the purpose of breathing. Not necessarily the best state to exist in but it's been working for me. I believe everyone should have the odd moment of self-pity to put life into perspective and give one a ditch to crawl out of... if you don't fall, how are you going to get up? Twisted logic, I guess, but it helps me breathe.

I am now being dragged, reluctantly, back into society... I am performing at three different gigs over the next week, which should make for an interesting experience since, other than the scribblings I post here, I haven't been doing anything poetry-related and I haven't been on a stage since the beginning of August. Oh, the only performance I've done was on Channel O's O-Boma.

Anyway, this Saturday heralds the Blackword Poetry Festival at Constitution Hill in Johannesburg, which, as far as I am concerned, is probably the largest poetry festival attempted, with 20+ poets, emcees and bands, including Lebo Mashile, Afurakan, Flo, Kabomo, Napo Masheane, Ayob, Myesha Jenkins, Sabelo, Moemise Motsepe, Natalia and Kojo. Put together by the Lenaka boys, founders and publishers of B.Ko poetry journal, it should provide to be an awesome experience. It starts at about 10am, costs R30 and runs for the whole day so if you in the area, swing by.

I'm looking forward to it and maybe this is what I need to get back into society.

the pain of love

2005-11-16T20:17:00.000+02:00

she loves to calm the demons
seven headed reflection of her inner beauty
born in the image of medusa's bastard off-spring

as painful as it may seem
schizophrenia lies within us all
blanketed by the layers of the abnormal

and she is us is she

divine creature of day and night
makes you see into the porous eye of dreams
where hope is reality
and all we dream of is flight

possibility multiplied by infinity is we
cradled between the lines of her fingerprint
we see only the burden of the love she has loved
never really seeing the tomorrow of the love she has loved

and she is us is she

her bright-eyed future is ours
where the petals of a dying rose
are the seeds from which tomorrow grows

she may have been loved before
but she will love again as will we

because she is us is she
and she is LOVE!!!

This is something i wrote for the Seven show. I seem to be caught up in a love where everything is love. wrote this over a year ago but the same line seems to crop up even today. wonder if there is a message ... too tired to think about it. just wanted to share the words.

easy

aimless ramblings

2005-11-14T12:08:00.000+02:00

I have no idea what this post is to be about so I have decided that it should be about nothing. Totally directionless. Simply fingers tapdancing across the keyboard, making their mark wherever they want to.

i seek deliverance from normality

freedom from the ordinary

hope from within humanity

just a little extraordinary

a slice of special

a piece of fantasy

i seek deliverance from normality

that's all i seek

I dream of greatness, and making my mark on the world, and often wonder whether the great ones are as haunted by feelings of inadequacy as I am. Do great people know that they are great? A line I like from Common is 'do wack MCs know that they are wack'.. or something to that effect.

All we have is hope. All that keeps me going every day is confidence in my ability to achieve whatever I put my mind to; then I spend more time worrying about not doing anything. I hate this time of the year ... i usually start shutting down and questioning everything I have done for the year.

Every December I decide that if certain things haven't happened by the end of the next year, I shall retire from poetry and write merely as a hobby, and every year, I find reasons why I should carry on my path, although what was supposed to happen hasn't happened. Drives me mad.

Am I alone in my madness? I feel dazed ... see pic

moment of clarity

2005-11-10T16:38:00.000+02:00

I have recently experienced a 'moment of clarity', a brief moment when life finally made sense. It may not be a big deal for some, and others may have known this for some time now, but it hit me like a stolen kiss two days ago.

The chance of me being able to comfortably live off poetry is close to nothing. It will always provide me pleasure and I will, undoubtedly, become better at it, maybe even achieving a significant level of recognition, but it will never pay my bills. Publishing, performing and recording poetry shall provide me with some of my needs and wants, but they will never bring me true wealth.

I can possibly thrive off the spin-offs that poetry may provide, such as copywriting, corporate theatre, television and theatre scripts, etc, but not purely off poetry. In other words, i can make a decent living off 'creative writing', of which poetry is one, but not solely off poetry.

The thing about this 'epiphany' is that it might just be the answer I need to re-discover my love for poetry. This whole 'building a career as a poet' thing was starting to drain me of my love for the Word. If my job is focused on something else, I am sure the joy shall return.

I am now seeking a cause. A worthy endeavour that shall become my poetic guiding light. I want to have fun again.

In Word We Trust.

one plus one equals one

2005-11-06T19:48:00.000+02:00

Was at friends' wedding this weekend and had a moment of momentary inspiration. The missus tends to abuse the fact that I play with words for a living (well, an attempt at a living) and buys cards for all occassions that do not have writing in them, just so I can scribble something.... the pressure. Anyway, while at the wedding, these words made their presence felt:

i inhale her the way only lovers can
and exhale into her

deep within her

we are siamese twins
connected by love's umbilical cord
recipients of a life force like no other

none have loved
the way we love
and none shall love so deeply again

we consume each other daily
oblivious to all that is trivial

we are love

new addition.... durex

2005-11-03T13:58:00.000+02:00

okay, so i finally put in new header. not perfect, i know, but it is a start. got advice on how to improve it, or on what else you would like to see in this space - Word-related - please drop me a line. got poetry and/or arts related initiatives. share them. my shortest post. cool, a quick titbit from seven (see previous post for explanation) ... called Durex

It calls me constantly
Evidence of failure
in matters of the heart

It mocks me
Daring me to throw it out
As we count down to
the numbers on etched on its back

they say condomise
it says:
sooner or later, you have to get laid

seven ....

2005-11-03T12:45:00.000+02:00

Last year, I was involved in an initiative to shake-up the comfort zone I had created as a performance poet. Seven male poets came together to conceptualise, develop and enact a theatrical poetry-based play called 'the streets have lips'. We called ourselves Seven, which consisted of Ayob Vania, Common Man, Flo, Afurakan, Mak Manaka, Kabomo Vilakazi and yours truly and we spent about six months writing, workshopping, rehearsing, etc and eventually put the show on in early September last year.

We had big dreams and great plans for the future of the endeavour but it eventually collapsed due to a number of reasons including ego, priorities, dreams, etc. What I have learned over the last two years is that working well with someone does not imply that you would get along with them purely on a personal basis. In the poetry scene, this is a difficult thing to understand because we are all chasing dreams and, therefore, our total interaction is on the basis of poetry - we start thinking we are friends because we spend so much time together and have so much to talk about.

Anyway, Seven never made it past its opening night and, for a long time, I haven't even looked at the stuff I wrote for it - the deal was that everything written for the production was purely for the production and couldn't be shared outside of that context. Somehow I have continued to adhere to that policy despite the fact that the arrangement does not exist anymore.

So .... to get beyond all of that, I'm going to put something from the show.... the 'title' poem - the streets have lips. oh, every poem was written according to a particular 'theme' or emotion and each poem featured stanzas from between 3 and 7 poets. The streets have lips featured all of us:

they read our destiny
from the cracks
beneath the soles of our feet
and we bleed

they whisper truths
in the swirling dust
and we close our eyes
blinded by unrelentless truth

they cringe at every crooked step
every misguided stumble,
and we weep

when slapped on both cheeks
we trip over our foolishness
hoping that our next step
shall reveal the eternal blind spot
and bring clarity

the streets lie inanimate
victim to our constant blundering
waiting for the day
they shall be heard
and the future shall be determined
without the blood, without the sweat
without the tears
that drench them daily

they are one with our footsteps
these crooked paths, these highways, these byways
and tomorrow they shall still be there
leading us, guiding us, coaxing us
till that one day when
we shall travel free of the hate and pain

until then
the streets shall always whisper:

the streets have lips .....
the streets have lips .....
the streets have lips .....
the streets have lips .....

It was an awesome experience while it lasted and taught me a great deal about collaborative work, some good, some bad. Who knows... maybe someday when we are old and grey, we will dust off the manuscript and do it one more time, just for the hell of it - no better reason to do something.

make it last ...

2005-10-31T15:25:00.000+02:00

i generally do my best writing in those seconds before i succumb to the sandman's embrace, so i usually scribble words into my phone. the joy of that is i am always finding stuff i don't remember ever writing. just discovered one and thought i would put it out there.

lightless nights comfort me

pitch black shadows love me

it is the spirits that sing me to sleep

it is the spirits that keep me company when i sleep

the physical is the illusion that haunts me

chokes me, dehumanises me

humanity is a theory i prefer to read about

and watch on TV

i am a product of the hermit revolution

we seek segregation from the human race

space to interact on anti-social terms

beyond politeness and the right thing to do

grant me my wish, oh great serpent king

i do not need much to survive

a roof over my head

food in my belly

and enough distractions to distract me from the absence of voice

i wish to ween myself off people

wallow in mud and drown in breathless quicksand

empty the hour-glass of sand

and fill it to the brim with water

that's how much time we have

let the movement of this lifetime transcend the trivial

let it live immortality in each moment

let it be without societal dramatics

just let it be

sometimes i question my own state of mind. sometimes i pretend that my thoughts are not my own, because the alternative can be frightening. sometimes i find it all silly and funny. sometimes i wish all i had was laughter.

easy

Imperfect Poet Banner

2005-10-31T12:34:00.000+02:00

The idea is for this to be the new header at the top of this Blog. At this stage, it isn't because I still haven't figured out how to get it up there. I would be interested in your thoughts, comments, etc. Is it crap or does it have potential? Drop me a line. Easy

The Imperfect Poet Banner

passing through

2005-10-26T21:39:00.000+02:00

probably a weird thing to say, but i am merely passing through this space. acknowledged it is, to a large extent, my little slice of the world, but while the need to reach out is there, i am passing through. the last few weeks have been interesting. having spent the last year with steady income, i have done what most people do in that situation - acquired expenses beyond my means. and now that steady income has dried up, albeit temporarily. existed as a freelancer for about two years and was able to survive; now i am having to re-learn the hustle. not easy, but i believe the universe shall provide .....

there was a time when difficulty inspired the WORD. now difficulty inspires FOCUS, leaving no space for literary banter. strange! first i learnt how to write without any mind-altering substances. then i learnt how to write when i am happy. now i struggle to put pen to paper when i am down. don't know whether that is good or bad ... guess i will have to live with it for now.

thoughts .......

money is not the root of all evil

man is the evil that gives it that energy

the soul corrupted by the blind desire

the heart pumps tainted blood

the spirit sees no hope but

the pursuit of man-made triviality

the value of life is relative

and relativity governs human perception

and money grinds away at morality

and for money

immortality becomes a distant dream

am i making sense? sometimes the words just come without thought, without meaning. sometimes it helps to just write. strangest thing that ever happened to me was sitting down to write a poem about how miserable life was and how much i wanted to unwrap the tentacles of depression and just run free. instead the poem ended up being about love and how the love for another does not imply the magical ability to fix everything .... it ended up being about how, sometimes, we have to let those we love live their own lives - our job is merely to love them. don't you just love words?

the pen said:

just write

the words shall come

clothed in bravado

knowing that all you dream of

is their arrival

their comfort

just write

randomly select words of no relevance

until they click into place

and start speaking lifetimes

just write

until the right words come

pretend that without them

you are nothing more

than a vessel

soulless

spiritless

just write

and pray

and hope

that one day

sooner, rather than later

the words shall come

and speak your truth

listen to your footsteps

2005-10-24T12:41:00.000+02:00

been trying to figure out how to enhance my blog template, hence the extended period of silence. obviously I haven't figured it out yet, but the time shall come. would like to share a poem from my collection Voices In My Head - nice thing about publishing under your own company, no issues with what can be put out.

i close doors
and hotbox minds with vocal dexterity

i twist meaning
and shade my ego from emotion

i lay my soul naked before strangers
and hide my heart with thick bush

i dance to god’s toe taps
and drown in the rhythm of doubt

i stand brave before giants
and quiver in the presence of children

i recite words repeatedly
and pray for salvation in affirmation

i listen to my footsteps
and search for the future in sound

i inhale weed smoke
and hope for spiritual clarity

i embrace confusion
and dream of normality

i keep both feet on the ground
and seek altered mind states

i see angels in every corner
and denounce ghosts in haunted houses

i live my truth
and epitomise hypocrisy

i justify lies with simple answers
and i am human

look into my shattered mirror
and listen to your footsteps

seconds before sleep

2005-10-19T14:24:00.000+02:00

i continue to wallow in indecision and confusion. the clarity of my purpose has been exchanged for blurred visions of an unknown future. we all face our demons, we all have our crosses to bear, but the universe gives no more than what we can handle. the words of comfort are easy to come by, the logic is simple, but somehow it doesn't make it easier.

i find myself questioning my thoughts, my actions, my dreams ... and the answers do not come as easily as they used to. this should be the perfect period for writing but reality has imposed itself so strongly on my consciousness that i cannot see the stars through the smog. when i close my eyes, i see the reflection of my innate sadness and when i open them, i am engulfed in chaos. this is my version of wallowing in self-pity, in the hope that i shall snap out of it as the words speak back to me from the screen. we shall see. at times it inspires poetry.

i wonder why the caged bird sings

beauty in melodies tinged with hope
a voice loud inspired by possibility

i wonder why the caged bird sings
when the bars obscure its vision
when things fall apart
and crumble beneath the weight
of the universe's truth

the beautiful ones are not yet born
and we are in limbo
awaiting word from the heavens
answers to questions we do not ask

we are silent
and yet
the caged bird still sings

i wonder why the caged bird sings

thanks to maya angelou, chinua achebe and ayi kwei armah ... some of you may see the reference, albeit simple and shallow.

i had wanted to include an image of a 'caged bird' but struggled to find anything that captured the spirit of what is felt. that desire was driven by the belief that people will find this space interesting if there are pictures ... but all i know is words and why shouldn't the words be enough ... they are enough ... easy

something to calm the madness?

2005-10-13T22:07:00.000+02:00

Why does one actually 'create' a Blog? What inbred desire is it that drives one to put thoughts, feelings, their lives out there for millions to see? I still search for that answer in the same way that I question why I get on stages and share parts of soul to total strangers ... why I scribble on blank pages and do everything in my power to ensure that my words are heard.. I am plagued by these thoughts daily, but while I cannot define this desire, the need to express is still there and so I continue to search for answers in movement. These words may have no meaning to some, but the belief is that someone out there will find relevance. It is a strange space, like being on television or on radio, where the 'audience' is detached physically.

Performance poetry has blossomed, I believe, because of the intimate relationship that is created in bars, clubs, conference halls, outdoor spaces, etc. The space to get energy directly from those listening and feeling.

Finding a way to get that same connection from letters on a page or on a computer screen is harder. But it must be done. Finding commonality between us as human beings is the battle half won. I am optimistic. I am an idealist seeking utopia... it may seem distant, but a worthy cause, in my book. Today, mind in overdrive, words spill, no sense, nonsense, random ramblings leave traces of perfection, sometimes, thinking can be tiresome, i often seek the comfort of the arbitrary....

anger is easy
smouldering souls breathe fire
tongues licking at the flames
throats parched, thirsty
hearts burning
pounding
chasing a cause
any cause

This space, for me, is one where I can - and will - share the words that come to me, in their original form. The perfectionist says the words should be edited ... that is done elsewhere ... here, my honesty resides, with all its flaws.

third eye blurred, in need of spectacles

alien sights ignite soul fires

burn lost souls living white collar realities

and sweat leaves salt residues on forked tongues

we lie to mirrored reflections

and hope that the equivocation of three witches

is justification enough for blindness

our grandfathers never died of stress

they built hills when mountains were impossible

and found peace

they fought not with your education and knowledge

but with the beating of their hearts

and the memories of their fathers and mothers

our grandmothers never blindly opened their legs

to build castles in the sand

they molded family with love

and a strength that came from a bloodline fertilised with hope

your spirit was not carved out of concrete

but from the sands that your ancestors inhaled

the dream is an illusion

wake up and it shall become real

the dream is not a dream

so quit dreaming of dreams about fulfilling dreams

and live

a man once told me that life is what you make it

but failed to define the essence of making it

so we run in circles

and call the end the beginning

when we return to where we begun

city of lost souls is the place we call home

when home is where the heart paints reality in the sand

and identity is who you were as a child

i write words to be heard by my spirit

because i hear clearest when the page reflects my sadness

and turns it into happiness

i am we

an ordinary man

dreaming reality

All I have are words. All I can share with you is these words. Find your meaning. Digest and decide whether these words have relevance.

let love rule ....

2005-10-11T14:49:00.000+02:00

Been getting lazy with my posts, primarily because I am been going through a bit of a writer's drought ... not blocked, just running dry. Finding the balance between being an artist and 'hustling' to make a living leaves me drained. There is a balance. There is a way of existing in the creative and corporate worlds. There is, and I continue to search for it. Decided to try my luck in the National Novel Writing Month initiative as a way of getting out of my comfort zone. How often do we procrastinate on what is achieveable?

The problem with my plans is not the plans but the fact that I never get off my butt to implement them. A lifetime of 'what ifs' is a life unlived ... is that where I want to be? I think not.

Anyway, when in doubt, I have always found solace in poetry. When I struggle to write, I read what others have written and/or read what I have previously written. My muse is the woman i share my life with, and I found this poem the other day that she inspired.... would like to share.

she inhales my passion with every breath

and dampens the fires momentarily

she licks the pain from my eyelids

and blows passion back into my soul

as she travels the contours of my spirit

igniting pleasure with each twist of her tongue

the power of pleasure is etched

into the palms of her hands

nestled within a heavenly paradise

that only she possesses

in her presence, we rise, are drained, and rise once more

reaching heights unnatural in their fury

to be or not to be is not the question

to feel is the answer to our existence

and

i could drown in her fingertips daily

i could drown in her belly-button daily

i could drown in her expanding pupils daily

i could drown in the space between her heartbeat daily

i could drown in the corners of her mouth daily

i could drown in the vibrations of her voice daily

i could drown in her every breathing pore daily

i could

i would

and i do

for we have found a space

that could only be defined as ours

and she is the waters

that quench my thirst endlessly

This was performed as part of a poetic theatrical show called 'Seven - The Street have Lips', featuring seven Johannesburg poets: Kabomo Vilakazi, Ayob Vania, Common Man, Mak Manaka, Afurakan, Flo and myself. We pulled a lady from the audience and performed a 10 minute love poem, incorporating stanzas from all, that had her blushing. Was awesome. Met her a few weeks ago and she still remembered the poem, down to specific lines from various poets. Reminder of why I so love the word.

2005-10-11T14:09:00.000+02:00

Old pic, but I love it. Performance at Sacred Heart
College with Flo beatboxing.

We look so artistic and 'in the moment', don't we?

a state of desire

2005-10-06T15:52:00.000+02:00

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that speaks to the heart
disconnected sense that sings
about love & laughter
pain & tears
as it runs from rational, sequential words
that claim to speak truth
on stained blank pages

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
remniscent of that one moment
when you felt in your heart
that you had found the one
the one voice that silences everything else
and speaks only to you

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that speaks infinite truth
poetry that lights the path of humanity
to the fulfilment of destiny
and bridges the gulf between heaven and hell

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that is rhythm, blues and gentle bass
all rolled into one symphony of song
and keeps you dancing
when the words have been long forgotten

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that tears at your insides
pounds on your chest
and sinks to the pit of your stomach
leaving you gasping for air
begging for one more line

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that is as pure as the laughter of a child
as sweet as a first kiss
as beautiful as a glimpse of heaven
as mystical as a first love
as tender as a mother’s touch
as strong as a father’s heart

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that is a journey into fourth dimensions
of rage and happiness
slipping between the lines
that divide sense and nonsense

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that is spring showers
and the first crisp winter’s morning
when it feels like the cold
has come and wiped the slate clean

i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
i want to write poetry
that is like mind-blowing sex
the kind that makes you sweat rivers
violently twisting your limbs this way and that
‘coz something this good
could never be this simple

that’s the kind of poetry i want to write

until then
i will keep hoping that one day
the unseen will possess my writing hand
decipher the feeling behind the sound
and write poetry that is more than poetry

profound headings are difficult to come by

2005-10-06T12:11:00.000+02:00

For once, I decided to actually plan this, which doesn’t necessarily mean it will, in any way, be profound or better than my previous posts, but rather I am probably going to take longer to write it. The last two weeks have been interesting. I have realised how comfortable my life had become, and how far I have gone from the days when I was freelancing, trying to live solely off my poetry and writing. It is when things get difficult that we should count our blessings, and I have been blessed over the last three years. Scary to think that 4 years ago, I was jobless, in debt and living out of a bag (sleeping at friends’ places). While the trials that I deal with daily may seem hard, I now have a job, a beautiful wife, my own home and all the comforts I could possibly need. Everything else is a bonus.

Trying to keep this in mind as I deal with today. Last Monday, a truck decided to change the look & feel of my car, which wasn’t insured, and I am trying to get the trucking company’s insurance to pay, as it was the truck driver’s fault. Been told this could take months, which means every day is a new struggle to ensure that I am mobile and the missus is mobile, sharing one car… but, at least I have a car to share.

Been trying to remind myself that things aren’t that bad and I am more fortunate than a lot of people in the world …. doesn’t make it feel better, but have been trying. Aw kcuf it ….. in all honesty, I just feel like whining and feeling sorry for myself. Let’s leave it alone.

The poetry scene in Joburg has been quiet, but if you looking to check something out this weekend, come through to the Couch & Coffee, Newtown Cultural Precinct next to the Market Theatre. Show starts at 15h00, costs R30 (I think) and always features Joburg’s top poets. Awesome show with a tranquil, family environment made for lovers of the Word. Swing by, you won’t regret it.

Watch this space, another poem coming later on today! If that is of any interest to you.

ps. sketch by Peter Oellermann, featured in Voices In My Head, a collection of poetry by yours truly

yesterday .....

2005-10-04T15:29:00.000+02:00

it is night. i am hurtling silently toward possibility. it licks my eyelids every time i blink. i am travelling, open hearted, towards the unknown - the comfort of an old pair of jeans fading, blurring in my rearview mirror.

i am in the present, haunted by yesterday and tomorrow, the murmur of possibility droning incessantly, creeping between the fear, the disappointment i carry with me.

i have left it behind. it burns with apathy, with disregard for what could be, with the fires of chaos, confusion, misguided anger ..... with my blood.

home has been invaded by the kind of madness only stupidity can bring. i can only go forward. my backward glances are only to see how far i have travelled. i look forward and dream. i can only dream, because without dreams, what else is there to believe in? to follow? to pursue?

i had followed the chosen path, and failed. 'pick yourself up', my father always says. i have picked myself up and fled. i don't think that is what he meant but it is done. once you jump, there is no stopping.

it is night and i am driving in silence, being carried forward. forward ever, backward never, damned are those who hold us back, tie us down.

it is night and i am hurtling silently toward possibility.............

homesickness

2005-10-04T10:34:00.000+02:00

made it back from Lesotho in one piece. the trip was quite successfull, with the biggest moment for me being when my old school was shut down for two hours so all the students could come watch us perform ... surreal experience, and now that it has been years since I left, the teachers (who had been there while i was there) had wonderful things to say about me. anyway, the whole journey kind of confused me - i have spent the last five/six years trying to contribute to the development of poetry and literature in south africa, and neglected my own home country... where it is needed even more.

I grew up in a city where there were, and are, no avenues for any exploration of the arts, in any form.... no music schools, no theatre groups, community centres, not even a national arts council. the issue that plagues me is how do i throw my soul into a country that is not my own, without even contributing to progress in my own. no answers, yet! but there will be.... watch this space!

it bleeds from pores

drips in a slow rhythm

drops splatter and dance

and rest in puddles of thought

it seeps out follicles

colouring the dullness of life's grey

with bright red and deep crimson

it carries essence

in streams that flow

through spirit

it wipes chaos clean

brings hope

....... is life ...... blood poetry .......

life beyond .....

2005-09-28T15:20:00.000+02:00

Taking off to actually interact with the world .... although the 'fly on the wall' existence is a lot more fun.... the search for the 'perfect poem' continues... back on Sunday (for anyone who is actually interested) - this is like being a radio DJ, we speak and hope that someone actually listens.

the stars speak to me / in the dialect of the gods / and tell me of the birth of the universe / we sit in silence / speak reflections / live orbits / and often rest on mars / for cocktails of red dust and imagined truth / and when the stars retire / under the harsh glare of the sun / i speak to myself
the voices in my head are imaginary / - fictional manifestations of the god in me - / but they too speak incessantly / carving history from memories
i am an empty vessel / and when i sleep / too tired to think / i channel celestial orchestras / as soundtrack to my dreams

my umbilical cord was cut at birth / and re-attached to the universe / so i think in stanzas and verse / blinded by a truth / i don't really want to know

the bliss of ignorance is a comfort to those / who do not hear the galaxy cry at night / as it frays at the edges

frequently / the moon sings the planets to sleep / to dream of new-found galaxies and the breaking of stars / the battle between the moon and the sun is half lost and half won / a cold war that will crack when the universe / cracks under the weight of infinity

i hold my breath and pray for a moment of sanity / tho i've been sane most of my life / and insanity is probably what i need most...................................

words, hope they make sense to someone, 'coz they don't to me. sometimes the 'voices in my head' run riot, take over the pen and whisper strange thoughts. easy runnings

sleepless days

2005-09-27T15:45:00.000+02:00

Running on empty today... only thing keeping me going is spirit. Reality seems very surreal right now, following three days of little sleep and too much writing (business-related). Add to it all, a truck driver decided to re-design my car last night. That said, still went through to the Gordon Institute of Business Studies this morning (at some ungodly hour - the world should start at 10am and end at 2 am) for a Seminar on 'The Role of the Arts in Empowering the Nation'. Intense. I was one of the speakers, talking about my perspective from a poetry angle and I think I did reasonably well. My epiphany from the experience: I have spent so much time trying to make a living from my writing that I have lost sight of the power of word, and its place in society. Still trying to make sense of it all. The seminar is part of what GIBS calls the NEXUS programme which involves middle to top management from major corporates coming together over a year - this aspect was part of the efforts to expose corporates to a world outside of their own and educate them on the possibilities that are out there.

Okay, feeling incoherent so not going to get into this. Sorry. Activities for this week? Doing the UNISA Festival of Languages on Thursday with Kabomo and Myesha Jenkins, then head of to Lesotho for the Morija Arts and Cultural Festival. Travelling with poets: Napo Masheane, Lebo Mashile, Ayob Vania, Kabomo Vilakazi and Myesha Jenkins. It feels like a bit of a homecoming for me in that I started truly exploring the Word in Joburg and now I am going home. Hoping to also setup more activities and events around poetry there - talent is everywhere, it is about where the possibility lies. I grew up in a household where the sky was too much of a limit and in a country where opportunity to explore alternative lifestyles is, or rather was, extremely difficult. No music school, no studios, etc, etc. I need to make a difference in establishing a true presence for the Word.... this is hopefully the first step in that process.

Words:

'i am the voice of nameless men/too scared to speak/ their words caught between their lips/ bubbling in the space between skin and flesh'

'your pupils are the mirror that reflect dreams/ and so / only you see them/ from the inside'

'nowhere is after somewhere/ and i think i am there'

'i miss your rhythm/ when pleasure whispers mystic melodies/ beneath sordid emptiness'

'she peels the petals of my song/ the rhythm of my heartbeat laid bare for all to see/ i am putty pushed through cracks'

omnipresence: seek & you shall find/ bleed & you shall cry/ smoke & you will get high/ stand tall & the devil shall fall/ dance-black-dance/ speak-shout/ chant it down/

but remember your place

Yeah, that's my story. I'm tired.

the business of artistry

2005-09-25T14:28:00.000+02:00

Greetings. Summer in the southern hemisphere is really starting to kick in with the short skirts, shirts, and the like being pulled out from the back of wardrobes. It's a beautiful thing, but sadly, haven't been part of the process up till now. Living in two extremes trying to find balance between living life (with all its luxuries) and being an artist. This weekend has been spent working on a presentation - I'm off to Cape Town for the day tomorrow to pitch for a project. I have often been asked how I find balance between management consulting and creative writing - I still search for the answer. I took a job in attempt to create a solid foundation, which I wasn't getting when I was freelancing as a writer, and have found that, while it provides me with the funds to promote and develop my art, it also takes time away from that. Guess we all have to live with the consequences of the choices we make.

Anyway, in a twist, on Tuesday morning I am giving a talk at a business school in Joburg to a group of suits on 'The Role of Art in Empowering the Nation'. Great opportunity to hustle some funding from those with the funds but I am having difficulty laying out my thoughts. One of the things I have always believed is that, as artists, we are great at being artists and totally hopeless at the 'business of being an artist'. The quest for purity and 'realness' in the Arts has resulted in a never-ending cycle of artists constantly getting screwed. For decades, we have heard stories of artists dying in poverty while their managers, etc, reap the financial benefit. Well, the way I see it, this generation of artists has been exposed to these stories so much, the only reason you get screwed is out of your neglect.

Isn't it time that we learned the business to ensure that we are never hoodwinked by those in the 'know'? It is about time we learned from history and took the necessary steps to ensure that it does not repeat itself. If we don't, we will continue to exist as society's martyrs, tapping into the suffering of humanity, while lining the pockets of those with the foresight and skills required to turn those insights into money.

So what am I going to talk about on Tuesday? How artists must learn the language of corporates and how corporates must learn the language of artists to ensure that we can find a middle ground that will benefit all. It touches us all in different ways and it is important that we all honour those who create.

more words, scribbled ..... i share my notes because, while they may not be well-written (pre-edit), they do carry my truth before logic comes in to mold it grammatically, sequentially, logically ..... before they are prepped for page or stage ....

i am, you are, we are

distant souls trapped in a mindless cage

our humanity cloaked by the surreal bars

we are plural, yet live a singular distortion

i am, you are, we are

i, you, we breathe lies

and bury our truth in fiction

how strange!

comfort is an umcomfortable reminder of what we see

in moments of silence

i am, you are, we are

drifting, floating, dreaming, hoping, drowning

but never living

empty inanimate vessels

dressed in the emperor's clothes

crying wolf when it is ourselves

we should fear most

i am, you are, we are

robotic, automated, mechanical

androids

zombies manacled by a past

wiped clean by history

hobbled by legs that don't bend at the knees

shackled by the lumps in our throats

our voices rendered mute

by broken and forgotten dreams

i am, you are, we are

tired, lifeless, lethargic, inert

and still believe the future is in our hands

our aged, crooked hands

destiny supposedly lies in these hands

we are too blind to see

that the path to that destiny

is overcoming this reality

i am, you are, we are

Let me get back to the grind. easy runnings

just words - love & hate

2005-09-22T22:37:00.000+02:00

these are just words, but words that come closest to speaking my truth.... that come closest to expressing what haunts every waking moment and, sometimes, when i sleep. i am told i speak words when in the sandman's embrace ... this is what i try to say:

she is truth

delicate, fragile yet strong

she lives in the space between heartbeats

and I have tasted her flesh

the tip of my tongue probing her intimate spaces

she moans and thrashes

beneath the weight of my confusion

guides me to the core

amidst the grunts and groans

i have loved and been loved

her love bittersweet

her touch tainted

her thoughts distant

yet a love i crave incessantly

mistress to many

i am one vessel

traversing the ocean that is her

oblivious to the wrecks

that glimmer beneath purple nights

the pieces of the lives

of those who came before

float silently on her surface

i am just like them

believe myself different

swim on, the voices say,

find salvation in her arms

i am indecisive

i give love and take it back instantly

i have tried to leave countless times

i have tried to turn a cold shoulder to her affections

i have tried

i try

i tried and failed

she is beautiful

she is beauty

she is my first love

she drowns me in words

and leaves me tongue-tied

we are a paradox

for which i seek the answers

she is my first love

she is Word

and when all else fails

In Word We Trust

would love to hear your comments ... your thoughts ... even your criticism. easy

book readings

2005-09-21T16:51:00.000+02:00

The Fort West Heritage Foundation has been holding a series of Book Readings in Pretoria. The next one, titled 'Three Generations Three Authors' is on October 2nd featuring Noni Jabavu, Khosi Xaba and Lindiwe. It is a Literary Lunch and Book Readings from 'Drawn in Color', 'The Ochre People', 'These Hands' and '180 Degrees' - new fiction and poetry by South African Women Writers.

Venue: Old School House, Fort West Village, Pretoria Townlands

Time: 2pm till late

RSVP:

Email fortwestfoundation@yahoo.com

Fax +27 12 378 1454

Cell - +27 (0)82 366 0342 (Khomo) or +27 (0) 83 360 2333 (Linda)

No drama today, nothing vaguely intelligent to share beyond this. If you have poetry events going on, drop them as a comment or send me an email and I will include.

Easy

poet's prayer - a work in progress

2005-09-20T16:02:00.000+02:00

Verbal vomit, let me know what you think:

forgive me father
for i have sinned
it has been 23 days, 5 hours and 36 minutes
since my last poem

i have stared at the page so long
my eyes reflect their whiteness
and the world has lost its colour
the words bubble beneath my skin
scratch the insides of my pupils
but remain hidden from my pen

i have resigned myself to living through the words of others
but i am a poet
i seek the voices
they have gone silent
they have forsaken me
for that i accept blame

forgive me
forgive me
forgive me, father
for i have sinned
it has been 23 days 5 hours and 37 minutes
since my last poem
i no longer share my dreams with the page
i have forsaken her for a microphone and the stage
my poetry is spoken
and lately
i am breathless
which makes it hard to speak
and harder to write

the ink in my pen has clogged
my word has found comfort in the arms of others, and.....

for my discretion
for my misguided deception
for my feeble attempt to journey into realms
beyond purpose
please, forgive me, father

Okay, really liked it when i started .... not too sure now... have no idea where i am going with this.

The latest in poetic happenings in this part of the world:

Festival of Languages CELEBRATING DIVERSITY - School of Language and Literary Studies, UNISA, Pretoria - 28, 29, 30 September and 1 October 2005

The Festival is a three-day feast of drama, talks, interviews, poetry readings, sign language, DVDs, videos and performances. Highlights to include: the play, Tsafendas, Don Quixote - a ballet; Chinese Calligraphy; and performances, talks and the like from Jonty Driver, Mathews Phosa, Tony Links, Leon de Kock, Henning Pieterse, Finuala Dowling and others.

I will be performing on the 29th with Myesha Jenkins and Kabomo Vilakazi at 11am, so for those of you in the area, come by and support.

Will probably mumble something about this again, as we get closer to the time, but if you need more information or would like to book for any of the days (or all), then

Phone: 012 429 7604 or Email: roberlc@unisa.ac.za

Cost: R10 per day: R25 for the entire festival

Cheques paybable to Unisa: Language Festival

Should be an interesting experience, but we will see - will let you know how it went down after.

Easy

african publishing and writing

2005-09-19T16:25:00.000+02:00

Interested in publishing? There is a one-day conference on African Publishing and Writing at the British Library Conference Centre in London. "Writers, publishers, academics and librarians, and anyone with an interest in African publishing and writing, are warmly invited to attend."

Why the apostrophes? Repeating their words, which I wouldn't want confused with mine. Don't you find it ironic that a conference on African Publishing and Writing is being held in London and not on the African continent?

"This conference will be an opportunity to discuss the state of African publishing today and developments over the last decade. It will consider how and where new writing is being published, and connections between Africa and Britain and Europe....

Questions to be discussed include:

What are the barriers to publishing in Africa and where are the opportunities - in Africa and abroad?
How and where is African-language publishing viable?
What role can UK libraries play in acquiring and promoting African literature?
Have things got better or worse for women publishers and writers?
What is the relationship between publishing and development in Africa?
How is the internet changing things?

For more information, and to register, contact the conference organiser:

Dr. Marion Wallace, African curator, British Library at africa@bl.uk."

I was personally glad to hear that the conference is free and follows AFRICAN VISIONS 2005 'Think Africa', A festival of African Literature, Culture and Politics on October 15 - 16th. Now all I have to do is rob a bank to get funds to actually get to the UK, find accommodation and possibly have a meal or two while I am there to discuss publishing challenges on my home continent, which I just left.

Want to know the challenges facing writers and publishers in Africa? Simple! Come to Africa and talk to the countless writers and they will tell you. Talk to a poet on the streets on Johannesburg, Accra, Lusaka, Nairobi, Cairo, or a novellist in Windhoek, Maseru, Luanda... you will probably get your answers there.

I am in the process of setting up a publishing house to be operational by mid-2006. Publishing is easy ... write something, get a quote from a printing company, get it printed, pay them and you have a book - oh, get an ISBN (which is free), create a decent cover and someone to help you edit. So now you have a book .... how do you get it out? I have found that distribution is the hardest part of the process (well, that and determing whether your writing has something to actually offer) and the incestuous relationship between major bookstores and traditional publishers means it is literally impossible to get your work beyond your backpack. How did I find this out? Bumped my head so many times with traditional publishers who are looking for the next book by Chinua Achebe, Wole Soyinka, Don Mattera or Ayi Kwei Armah and not interested in the next generation of writers that all I had was my own desire - and the help of Daddy - to publish and be heard. I am but one individual.

In Africa lies the answers to the problems that affect Africa .... not in the UK or Europe. Let me leave it at that.

Easy runnings

sunday blues

2005-09-18T15:19:00.000+02:00

Greetings. It is an extremely hot Sunday afternoon and I have a desire to speak, but not verbally. Do you ever get those days when you just don't feel like talking? Well, I do. Easier to type than speak, so here goes.

As usual, the weekend has flown by and it is back to the job tomorrow, with the regular stresses of the rat race. This weekend was interesting ... my father came to visit, with my stepmother, so I was being host, good son and intellectual, all at the same time. Plus, I did something I haven't done before, but hope it will be more regular in times to come - i had two gigs on one day.

The first was an MC and poetry thing at a San Heritage Festival out near the Cradle of Mankind. Long dusty road, hot sun and I ended up doing two links and one poem to a handful of people. When I was leaving, more people were arriving so I am assuming things picked up after I left. It was a fascinating lesson in race mechanics in South Africa. Took Daddy along and we spent the whole time trying to make sense of the fact that it is white South Africans (well, at least in this space) who seem to dominate the attempts to draw attention to African culture. Too much going on in my head to be able to break it down, but I was surrounded by a potpourri of dye&dye shirts, drumming, etc that seemed to be a mixture of Shamanic (Native American) symbolism and African (can't really place it into one culture, considering how many African cultures exist) desire.

Black Africans were in short supply and were primarily there to do some performance or another or, as was the case with one brother I met, to try and score white chicks. The man had the whole thing going with a Swazi clothe over his shoulder, the walking stick, some beads and skins around his head.... for a minute, I thought he might be a sangoma but when chatting, I discovered he has three kids in Lesotho, is a Zulu and was eyeing the ladies, with relative success.

Don't get the wrond idea .... I commend the organisers for what they are attempting to do, which is to draw attention to the plight of the San people, who continue to be treated with disdain in this part of the world, which does not reflect their position of being the closest to the original man/woman. In some ways, their circumstance seems to mirror that of Native Americans. The desire of the organisers to ensure that these people do not continue to be mariginalised in their home is absolutely necessary ... it just seemed like one was walking into a 'club' where you don't know anyone and are not sure how to act or interact .... and, a club that does not reflect the full spectrum of SA society. Question is: where are black South Africans? Are they doing the same but separately, or are they just not doing anything?

Anyway, went to the opposite extreme from there and performed at a corporate awards ceremony in the evening. Theme was: African, but there were suuits everywhere. Drummers at the entrance who absolutely rocked but were considered more background music as you walked up the red carpet, than the beauty and creativity they expressed. Despite the seemingly conventional setup that one can expect from corporate events, it reminded me of why I love going out and sharing my work. Professionally run, perfect sound, captive audience, wonderful energy and a desire to open themselves up to new things. I was home by 20h00 revitalised and boistered.

It is my theory that the only way poets will be treated with professionalism and courtesy is if we take ourselves seriously and act like professionals. The performance element has put us in the entertainment arena, to a certain extent, and, in competing for work with singers, dancers, actors, etc, we need to change our approach to the way we work. We need to delve more into the business of being artists. The treatment I received at the corporate event re-emphasised this for me.

That's it for me today. Will be posting some information on happenings in the poetry and arts scene, primarily around Joburg, during the week so come back. Going to gradually shift my e-newsletter, Playing With Words, into this realm.

easy

where are we going?

2005-09-16T12:38:00.000+02:00

Still stumbling my way through the whole Blogging experience, but learning something new is always fun. Don't worry, sooner or later, i will get the hang of it and then its on. Until then, please bare (yes, that was intentional - lay your spirit bare) and bear with me. This is actually such as self-serving experience - a space to say whatever you want, when you want. makes me feel relevant, although 'speaking' does necessarily imply that someone is 'listening'.

Anyway, for those of you in the Johannesburg region, come through to the San Heritage Festival starting tonight and running through to Sunday. Don't know what I have done with the details so contact Berno on 073 883 5328 for information. I will be MCing a portion of the programme as well as performing tomorrow afternoon.

Also, there is a musical experience going down on Sunday evening at Gallery 181 in Kya-Sands starting at around 4pm. The Soulbird World Music Concert is a Sunday afternoon "bring a picnic" concert featuring El Hadj Djiop, master Senegalese percussionist and drummer, Courtney Ward-Hofinger, Makati Molekwa and Christopher Tokalon. They are an awesome band and the Gallery is an amazing experience with beautiful sculptures dotting the whole space. Tickets are R50 and you can call (011) 708 2116.

Gallery 181 is becoming the new spot for events, etc and I will be having some poetry events there, starting end of October. It is time we broke out from beyond the traditional poetry spaces in this city. While Newtown serves as a cultural precinct, the Word needs to infiltrate all aspects of society and, to do this, we need to break out of the box. The love of Word is not limited to students and rastas and those who exist on the fringes of our world. The mountain needs to start travelling to Mohammed and poetry being perceived as an 'underground' art form needs to end. To me, being underground means struggling to survive and having a limited audience, which doesn't make sense. I assume that once we start to pursue our art form as a career, the intention is to share it with as many people as possible .... all underground gives you is the same faces and the same people every day, every show. Soon we will be talking about 'keeping it real' in poetry and I think it was Busta Rhymes who said 'keeping it real sounds more like keeping it hungry'.

I am ranting, aren't I? Having one of those days when I struggle to remember why I continue to pursue the Word. Would be easier to have it as a hobby and fully join the rat race, defining my routine for the rest of my breathing years:

mechanical zombies clutter pavements, and office blocks, blindly following the worn path, the fork in the road a figment of a dreamer's imagination, and dreams are for the insignificant, who chase a reality that can never exist, is this all there is, wake up, get dressed, have breakfast, go to work, tea break, lunch break, go home, watch telly, go to sleep, the cycle begins again, and again, and again, and again........?

Okay, want to leave this alone for now ....

The new wonder boy of hip hop seems to be Khanye West, a suburban middle-class raised man breaking into the Bling-Bling, Gangsta world of Rap. Just received a copy of an article from The Guardian about him and recently read an article in Time magazine. The common thread is how Khanye is bringing an element of social consciousness into the hip hop realm. He hasn't been a hustler, a drug dealer, a gangsta and, therefore, reflects this in his work.... he also recently openly criticised George Bush for the US Government's slow reaction to the Katrina disaster.

This has got me thinking about the state of poetry in Joburg. It does seem to be a bit of the opposite. If your poetry is not about political consciousness, 'chanting down babylon', fighting the system, there seems to be a perception that you aren't being true to the African cause. In everything we do, there seems to always be a desire to push a particular state at the expense of others. Whatever happened to human beings as multi-layered creatures with the desire to explore all elements of this thing called life?

In the beginning

2005-09-15T09:20:00.000+02:00

In the beginning
there was sound

sound broken into growls
grunts
which became words
sentences
paragraphs
each word given meaning
representing material
action
emotion
thought
translated into sound

Greetings, my first ever post. The beginning of a journey with an unknown destination. Going through some doubts as to the direction I am pursuing with my life. Having made a commitment to the pursuit of Word (poetry), I have found that the existence as a financially secure poet is close to impossible, especially in South Africa. Following a stint as a full-time freelancer, I returned to the corporate realm to create balance, and instead tipped the scale even further. The irony of it all. The security of a salary gives me the space to do all the things i want to do in poetry, but cuts into the time required to do all the things i want to do. But, I continue to believe that the universe will give direction and provide for me ..... what else is there to believe in?

I shouldn't complain too much, should I? I am fortunate enough to have the performance realm available to me for release and the next two weeks look like they are going to be good to me. Got about four bookings to perform at various events and I am putting on a show in about 10 days time. This weekend, I do a San Festival, an event to honour the San people who, while being widely acknowledged as the roots from which the human tree grew, continue to be treated hideously. On the same day, I perform at a corporate awards ceremony - talk about total contrast.

One of my pet gripes is the fact that poets are not treated with the professional respect they deserve. When booking a musician, or singer, or actor, event people tend to expect to deal with issues like fees, and contracts, and briefs .... with poets, it is all about exposure. The number of events I have performed at (and turned down) that were supposed to provide exposure ..... hell, at this rate, i will become totally over-exposed and broke (okay, weak analogy, but i am sure you get the gist of it). While most poets speak their truth - in what is the purest art form to exist - once we get into the performance arena, all we ask for is the same professional courtesy as other artists.

I ramble and I guess this space is to feed my ego's need for a space to do so, so let us continue.

Oh, you don't really know who I am, do you? Perhaps that is best for now, we can get to know each other as we go.... let's not kill the mystery so early.

Always wanted to setup a Blog and could never find the reason to do so. Now that I have, I still don't know the reason. Would be tragic (and amusing) if this experience fizzles into nothingness like so many other things I have tried to initiate. Tried to setup a discussion forum for people in the Johannesburg poetry scene - 10 subscribers and 5 posts in six months. I have a e-newsletter called Playing With Words that I send out to about 100 people - supposed to be every two weeks, but has ended up being every six weeks. Thinking of taking that and putting it in this space ... we'll see. i am the eternal starter - all fired up when i start things. I run out of steam as it goes, especially when it doesn't turn out the way I expected.

I have no expectations for this journey, which should help.

"run suicides / word by word / line by line / lately i see the world in black and white / because colour hurts my eyes / reflections of dreams broken leave me tongue-tied / shackled to the possibility of tomorrow / hindsight nightmarish / often i speak for the sake of speaking / when my mouth moves / my thoughts are shelved temporarily / i think i dream reality / and live in fantasy fraying at the seams ......"

I will do that a lot .... write irrelevant verse ..... excuse the messiness of the layout and formatting, it will get better as I figure out how to do everything.
easy runnings