As I wait it begins,
My heart starts to sing,
The crowd is moving,
To the people we bring.
A new type of music,
The type that comes from within,
Moving and shaking,
The boundaries it's breaking.
As my brow starts to sweat,
I'll be giving it my best,
Because this is what I am meant for.
Let us break free
Of the society
That provokes and promotes no longer the sounds of this nation's folks,
But rather the algorhythms that the machines have spoke,
Brings us to our knees,
Let us weep and plead,
For music that is written for the people by the people it belongs,
Not by the lifeless definitions of those zero's and one's.
Now's the time to forget,
And the time to reflect,
For the fear does relent,
I have time only for my frets,
And the strings,
Upon which my life depends,
For come the day of reckoning,
I will go down, my heart open, my mouth will sing.
As my brow starts to sweat,
I'll be giving it my best,
Because this is what I am meant for.
Let us break free
Of the society
That provokes and promotes no longer the sounds of this nation's folks,
But rather the algorhythms that the machines have spoke,
Brings us to our knees,
Let us weep and plead,
For music that is written for the people by the people it belongs,
Not by the lifeless definitions of those zero's and one's.
No longer shall we be required,
To put our lives in the fire,
For what we do isn't art, it isn't just a part,
But rather the entire start,
For the world to realise it's faults,
And rise up in a song, revolt.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Draw The Line
There was a time when I walked this road,
There was a time when I was alone,
There is this place I used to know,
Nothing's changed, hatred grows.
I walked the streets, I carried the load,
Of shattered dreams, of broken homes,
We were deceived, with the lies they told,
It's not as it seems, break the mould.
I'm not happy, I'm not satisfied,
I can't help you, but we're not blind,
Someone save me, this life's not mine,
Where's the bravery, where is the line.
Dis nie my probleem nie, dis nie my skuld,
Jy het jou keuse, ek kan nie jou lewe red.
Now is the time we walk this road,
Now is the time we're not alone,
This is this place we know,
Things have changed, settle the score.
We walk the streets, we carry the load,
Our shattered dreams, our broken homes,
We're not deceived with the lies they told,
It's not as it seems,we're gonna break the mould.
We're not happy, we're not satisfied,
We're gonna help you, causewe're not blind,
We will save us, we will in time,
We are the brave, we've drawn the line.
Dis nie my probleem nie, maar dis my skuld,
Ek het my keuse, ek sal jou lewens red.
(For those of you without a working knowledge of Afrikaans, the first two lines translate to mean "It's not my problem, it's not my fault, You had your choices, I can't save your life." and the second two lines translate to "It's not my problem, but it's my fault, I had my choices, I will save your lives.")
There was a time when I was alone,
There is this place I used to know,
Nothing's changed, hatred grows.
I walked the streets, I carried the load,
Of shattered dreams, of broken homes,
We were deceived, with the lies they told,
It's not as it seems, break the mould.
I'm not happy, I'm not satisfied,
I can't help you, but we're not blind,
Someone save me, this life's not mine,
Where's the bravery, where is the line.
Dis nie my probleem nie, dis nie my skuld,
Jy het jou keuse, ek kan nie jou lewe red.
Now is the time we walk this road,
Now is the time we're not alone,
This is this place we know,
Things have changed, settle the score.
We walk the streets, we carry the load,
Our shattered dreams, our broken homes,
We're not deceived with the lies they told,
It's not as it seems,we're gonna break the mould.
We're not happy, we're not satisfied,
We're gonna help you, causewe're not blind,
We will save us, we will in time,
We are the brave, we've drawn the line.
Dis nie my probleem nie, maar dis my skuld,
Ek het my keuse, ek sal jou lewens red.
(For those of you without a working knowledge of Afrikaans, the first two lines translate to mean "It's not my problem, it's not my fault, You had your choices, I can't save your life." and the second two lines translate to "It's not my problem, but it's my fault, I had my choices, I will save your lives.")
In dedication to my father.
Once there was a little spoon,
Who was so shiny, bright and new!
He had the sheen and glimmer that all good spoons do.
He learnt his lessons while he was young,
He never really thought it was fun,
Learning how to measure, stir and serve food.
So one late winter morning,
He heard the bed beckon, calling,
"Little spoon up on the table, how do you do?"
The spoon cried out "I'm bored!"
And slowly started shifting forward.
He'd found that rebel streak which was due.
The bed, menacing with his great lore,
Lay out far but still the nearest shore.
The colour, the pattern always in view.
The little spoon thought back to things his father said,
"All is well, and fair, but the bed!"
Yet the little spoon had thought it through.
He crept right up until the edge, and peered down, remembering his pledge.
"Always and forever, will I be a loyal, faithful spoon, through and through."
The thoughts plagued him as he began to hop,
But once he lept he had but one lonely thought.
"But I shall be the only spoon of the bed, what ever shall I do?"
But once he landed, although with regret,
He knew that he had decided his fate.
Forever to be held, forced between blankets, two.
He gave a shriek in despair,
And remembered his life so fair,
He cried, and sobbed, till the sheets looked like dew.
Then he heard a faint call,
"Little Spoon, Little Spoon, where'd you fall?"
His heart jumped and squealed and his spirit grew.
He knew the voice that was calling out,
And suddenly he was filled with doubt.
"I left my father" he thought, and back he drew.
But there, standing on a great crest,
Stood his father, bearing his chest.
The Little Spoon saw him, and felt renewed.
His father grabbed him and held him close,
"I've been searching for you, coast to coast"
The Little Spoon looked up at him confused.
His father held him tight and whispered in his ear,
"You never have anything to fear"
The Little Spoon just said "I love you".
For his father had saved him,
Fought warriors, and slayed dragons,
Just as the best dads do.
Who was so shiny, bright and new!
He had the sheen and glimmer that all good spoons do.
He learnt his lessons while he was young,
He never really thought it was fun,
Learning how to measure, stir and serve food.
So one late winter morning,
He heard the bed beckon, calling,
"Little spoon up on the table, how do you do?"
The spoon cried out "I'm bored!"
And slowly started shifting forward.
He'd found that rebel streak which was due.
The bed, menacing with his great lore,
Lay out far but still the nearest shore.
The colour, the pattern always in view.
The little spoon thought back to things his father said,
"All is well, and fair, but the bed!"
Yet the little spoon had thought it through.
He crept right up until the edge, and peered down, remembering his pledge.
"Always and forever, will I be a loyal, faithful spoon, through and through."
The thoughts plagued him as he began to hop,
But once he lept he had but one lonely thought.
"But I shall be the only spoon of the bed, what ever shall I do?"
But once he landed, although with regret,
He knew that he had decided his fate.
Forever to be held, forced between blankets, two.
He gave a shriek in despair,
And remembered his life so fair,
He cried, and sobbed, till the sheets looked like dew.
Then he heard a faint call,
"Little Spoon, Little Spoon, where'd you fall?"
His heart jumped and squealed and his spirit grew.
He knew the voice that was calling out,
And suddenly he was filled with doubt.
"I left my father" he thought, and back he drew.
But there, standing on a great crest,
Stood his father, bearing his chest.
The Little Spoon saw him, and felt renewed.
His father grabbed him and held him close,
"I've been searching for you, coast to coast"
The Little Spoon looked up at him confused.
His father held him tight and whispered in his ear,
"You never have anything to fear"
The Little Spoon just said "I love you".
For his father had saved him,
Fought warriors, and slayed dragons,
Just as the best dads do.
The Best Friend Paradox
As I lay through sleepless nights,
There is but one things that plagues my thoughts,
To think of you, wherever you may be,
Lying here, right next to me.
To imagine those lines and curves and colours,
And endless gazes at each other,
With glowing eyes and dark brown hair,
And a look that destroys my despair.
Your softened yet so sultry voice,
Your touch that leaves me with just rejoice,
A broken heart beneath layers of beauty,
If only you could see what I see.
Although your soul lies far from home,
Your wing's are clipped, your dreams dethroned,
Your complete and utter sacrifice,
To keep the peace, and let others rise.
I remember when we were young,
And my first love you had become,
So shy, so insecure, so very scared to lose you,
I didn't know that there was nothing I could do.
I held onto the dream of you for many and many a-summer,
But Decembers past and the dream grew dimmer,
When at last you had found your fix,
I knew my love had been replaced.
Although I could never bare to lose you,
You are the cause of my love-heart voodoo,
For once cupid's sharp arrow did strike,
And alas it has never done alike.
For you were my first true love,
My only, my white pure dove,
And though my heart to you is worthless,
My hearts desires will fight the surface.
The tears and weeps and cries will come,
When I stand beside you, when he has won.
And watch as you are taken from me forever,
Your best friend, and secretly the I-love-her.
There is but one things that plagues my thoughts,
To think of you, wherever you may be,
Lying here, right next to me.
To imagine those lines and curves and colours,
And endless gazes at each other,
With glowing eyes and dark brown hair,
And a look that destroys my despair.
Your softened yet so sultry voice,
Your touch that leaves me with just rejoice,
A broken heart beneath layers of beauty,
If only you could see what I see.
Although your soul lies far from home,
Your wing's are clipped, your dreams dethroned,
Your complete and utter sacrifice,
To keep the peace, and let others rise.
I remember when we were young,
And my first love you had become,
So shy, so insecure, so very scared to lose you,
I didn't know that there was nothing I could do.
I held onto the dream of you for many and many a-summer,
But Decembers past and the dream grew dimmer,
When at last you had found your fix,
I knew my love had been replaced.
Although I could never bare to lose you,
You are the cause of my love-heart voodoo,
For once cupid's sharp arrow did strike,
And alas it has never done alike.
For you were my first true love,
My only, my white pure dove,
And though my heart to you is worthless,
My hearts desires will fight the surface.
The tears and weeps and cries will come,
When I stand beside you, when he has won.
And watch as you are taken from me forever,
Your best friend, and secretly the I-love-her.
A little poem I call...
Youth - R. Mould
If you ask me who I am,
I have but one word to say,
I would tell you were speaking,
To the youth of today.
I would tell you of my struggles,
And I would tell you of my strife,
I would tell you of those who weren't accepted,
And who took their own lives.
The words and tears would flow as one,
The emotions of the others of my kind,
The brunt of past, present and future,
And the reason we have been bind.
Tears would turn to anger,
As my story duly unfolds,
And the fables of so many stories,
That will be forever untold.
The stories of the average man,
Living in pure poverty,
This is not a man who's face you'll say,
You have seen on Disney.
Why is it then that when I'm asked,
So very few of my kin,
Are the ones given the burden,
To represent your sin.
Are we not one and the same,
Youth and sin?
Are we not forever plagued,
By man's greed that lies within.
Although now we are,
A facade of hope and life,
Deep within we know the truth,
That we are to be only greed's lustful wife.
Therefore I say,
Before you come and call upon the youth,
Remember yourselves,
Being the defiers of the truth.
Although we will try and push and fight,
To change the outcomes of your mis-doing,
But alas our attempts are in vain,
While you, your wallet are pursuing.
If you ask me who I am,
I have but one word to say,
I would tell you were speaking,
To the youth of today.
I would tell you of my struggles,
And I would tell you of my strife,
I would tell you of those who weren't accepted,
And who took their own lives.
The words and tears would flow as one,
The emotions of the others of my kind,
The brunt of past, present and future,
And the reason we have been bind.
Tears would turn to anger,
As my story duly unfolds,
And the fables of so many stories,
That will be forever untold.
The stories of the average man,
Living in pure poverty,
This is not a man who's face you'll say,
You have seen on Disney.
Why is it then that when I'm asked,
So very few of my kin,
Are the ones given the burden,
To represent your sin.
Are we not one and the same,
Youth and sin?
Are we not forever plagued,
By man's greed that lies within.
Although now we are,
A facade of hope and life,
Deep within we know the truth,
That we are to be only greed's lustful wife.
Therefore I say,
Before you come and call upon the youth,
Remember yourselves,
Being the defiers of the truth.
Although we will try and push and fight,
To change the outcomes of your mis-doing,
But alas our attempts are in vain,
While you, your wallet are pursuing.
I Have Not Forsaken You!
This short, brief message is to say that I'm back. You may precede with your lives.
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