Poetry O'clock

By Sehloho Piet Rampai

Sehloho Piet Rampai presents personal selection of his best work in this definitive collection.This book will touch countless readers with its brilliantly crafted verses.Every poem serves a different purpose, and deals with a different pain heals a different heartache.Poetry o'clock takes readers through a journey of the most bitter moments in life and finds sweetness in them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MFH PUBLISHERS
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9780620861762

Sehloho Piet Rampai

Sehloho Piet Rampai he was born in Ngwathe Edenville and grew up in Odendaalsrus Province of the Free State in South Africa. He is an award winning Poet,Writer and Author, besides writing he is a Farmer,Businessman and Politician as he is also an active member of African National Congress Youth League And Mother Body.He played rugby for Virginia Sports Academy and is also Qualified Rugby coach.He started writing at the of 12 since then he never back off and most of his work is available online

Book preview

Chapter one

Mama

Mama who art upon the earth

You gave me life, you gave me love

Let me acknowledge the womb

Where I was conceived

With painful pride

Your presence is a living drama

Living drama of a race

Drama of flesh and blood

You accepted me on your laps

And let me open your womb

The fortune of your birth hood

And let me suckle your breast

Before they became human history

U floated deep seas in stormy days

U held your shoulders

To the Earth’s foundation.

Mother, friend and guider.

Because of you

I am what I am.

Die no more

Let me die, to die no more

Die in an attempt to live forever

My name has been called

Called to die to live eternally

Oh mom, no need to cry

I died flesh and blood

Spiritually my life is guaranteed

Don’t worries be happy

For now I art in heaven

On earth I am miserable

I am going home, to die no more

My death is only my birth began.

Remember

Remember Soweto

Bullet in the back days

Remember the dead

And be glad

Let the praise be to them

Rebel’s freedom is their cause

Being dead it does not matter

How guilty or innocent they died

Being dead it does not matter

How well or bad they died

Being dead we should pay them

Pay them Tribute

Because it is for Living they died.

African

I am not colored

I am neither black

Nor white

I am an African

I, the child of all races

My identity branded in the cry of Mzantsi

In the distant lands of ubuntu

I am proudly

And mysterious African 

The porter of all sorrows

I, the rascally child

Die hard like a wild animal

A person associated with the springbok

Without a doubt

That’s what I am about

I, the child of poor African society

Never shall I rest

Rest under the color hedges,

Black, green and gold

The intense proudly African

The God boiled my blood in a clay pot of passion

To course in my veins

My color shows it all

My heritage identifies it all.

My music sings it all

I am an African.

My dream

When I was young,

My imagination had no limits

I often wish I could change the world

But I grew older my wiser

I discovered that the world

Would not change in my last

Desperate attempt I settled

Down for changing only my country

But it too seemed immovable