Shapes, Shades and Faces

By Moferefere Lekorotsoana

"Like looking into a mirror, the poet surveys his life and relationships asking probing questions, making resolutions along the way 'be willing to hear from the seasons' he writes, evoking ideas of looking to nature for wisdom, of the ever-changing character of life and the promise of growth that the reflective life yields. His words do not dance in vague mystery, rather they march with focus and clarity like soldiers on a mission." - ATHOL WILLIAMS: Poet

• Language: English
• Publisher: African Perspectives Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9780639918709

Book preview

African Perspectives Publishing

PO Box 95342, Grant Park 2051, South Africa

www.africanperspectives.co.za

© Moferefere Lekorotsoana January 2018

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the editors.

ISBN PRINT 978-0-6399187-1-6

ISBN DIGITAL 978-0-6399187-0-9

Typesetting and cover by Gail Day

Cover image by Henrik Sorensen

Contents

PREFACE

INTRODUCTION

Inner voices

Dying silently

...We are

Streetwise

Ka phaka tsa mabitla

The mountain kingdom

E batlang baneng?

Down, deep in pain

Separation

Nights

I don’t want to hurt (anymore)

The Lord gave...

Images of the dead

What if

Clouds of death

Mortality

Such is life

Reflections of one who lost

Letter to a friend

To Lolo, from Lolo

When night comes

In the silence of their hearts

Imaginations

The movement (nostalgia)

Lonesome nights

Things you do

Inhumanity

The dry season of life

Immigration

Trains with my dreams

The mourners

African woman

UNTITLED

SOUL MATE

Babo

My song

What will you do?

Life fades

Sacred ritual

Oom Bey

Desolation

Farewell to Shenge

Dreadlocked dance

Just a good night wish

All smiles

I remember

Paranoid

Soulful conversions

Rejection

The call to love

Ruined hopes

Woman rise!

Maybe

Lover’s lies

Eclipsed

Namaste

England

Ghetto-ised!!

Lonely hearts

The dreamer

Tomorrow

Leru le letso

Enchanted!

Love potion

The mating game

Questions of love

What if?

Asparagus risotto

Good night

Ten days – one side

Ten days – other side

Silly

On Jules’ Street

Golden dreams

End of beginnings

Forbidden fruit

Coconut delights

Palestine skies

Anticipation

Black smile

Msawawa, my love

She never came

No goodbyes

Old hands

Come and dance

Matla!

Hopeless-ness

A simple wish

3700 kilometres

Let go

Before the flight home

Betrayal mzala

What went wrong?

Monument of life

SKETCHES OF THE SOUTH

Freedom

Young lives

Come walk with me

All in the name

In memory of

Freedom Square

Visions of war

Senzangakhona’s hills

Ke nako

Be counted

Confessions

The song, bloody sounds

Truth (C)omission

The Vlakplaas crematorium

The General’s present

I want to know

Miscarriage

Partial memory loss

The unmarked grave

Grave waters

The painter child

Nene

Apollo’s flight

The landless native

Never again

Collective amnesia

Love in war

Don’t be silenced

Dream and dare

The song, music-man

The bomb blast

Seeing through the wounds

I am freedom

Masapo

THE FUTURE

The hashtag generation 2015 class

Preface

From the onset, my interest in poetry came from my fascination with how words could express and, at the same time, carry the accumulation of our experience(s). The experience could be simple or complex, sad or joyful, despairing or hopeful. It is about how the word(s) looks into me or the other, see in one’s recess, and express the moment without being held back.

My journey to publish began with some trepidation.

I was anxious about being vulnerable, cautious of being revealed and revealing about those I have known. Consequently, my initial inclination was that this is a deeply private and personal thing I should reserve to myself. Otherwise, only my children would, later, access these readings as a means of catching a glimpse into my life, the people with who I broke bread, the places I walked and the times I lived in. Yet this whole experience, as it was the case in its private undertaking, was cathartic and one of the memory of where it came from.

My inspiration for writing, and poetry in particular, is my father – Ntate Maitse Lorenti Lekorotsoana. He wrote for Moeletsi oa Basotho – a Mazenod Press weekly, published in Roma – Lesotho, a of copy of which was avidly read in my home. Significantly, though, I was drawn to how he used words to describe events and living. His poetry, often in esoterica inked in beautiful lithograph, left me spellbound. I suppose his writings substituted for the fact that he never spoke much.

Related to my father too, something else that had a profound impact on my poetry was his eloquence and brilliance in Sesotho recital – more like today’s spoken word and freestyle. Together with our next door neighbour, Ntate Langman Mokhoabane, they would get into spontaneous jibes to test the other’s prowess in this art form. Almost endless banters – characterised by postures and strides at intimidating the opponent – would ensue either at the crack of dawn, prior to work as the township prepared to rise, or at dusk as the township settled down after supper. The two old men would revel us with historical tales, their workplace struggles, resistance, sorrow and enchantment, accounts of life in the township, etc. They were amazing. It’s as if I can hear and see them now; hence the smile on my face.

These experiences left an indelible mark on me. Much, much earlier on, when I started out writing, I did so in Sesotho. I so wished to emulate them but, unfortunately, I couldn’t sustain it except a few remaining writings and some I do now and then. I couldn’t match them and their Sesotho but, at least, English offered a sanctuary.

My endeavour with English was encouraged greatly by Ausi ‘Nana – better known as Ma’am Maki to the younger ones, and Mistress