31 July 2010

Dear writer, rejection letter!

Below are 2 reject letters, one is from an online magazine, another from a well known local publisher.

Reject letter 1

Dear Writer,

Please check our website for what we are interested in.

This is a negative reject letter that doesnt offer much assistance where the writer must improve on and no further avenues to correct what is "incorrect"

Reject letter 2

Dear Writer

Thank you for contacting ABC.

Unfortunately ABC cannot offer to assess and publish your poetry.
ABC is a small company that receives several poetry manuscripts a
month and only publishes two or three collections a year. As a result,
we have decided to no longer accept unsolicited manuscripts.
Instead, we will keep an eye on local literary journals and magazines, and approach
poets ourselves from there.

I'm attaching a list of these magazines which you could approach with
regards to getting some of your work published, as well as a FAQs
document containing information about the types of books ABC publishes
and guidelines on our submissions procedure.
I hope that you find this information helpful.

Wishing you everything of the best with your writing!

>> This is a positive reject letter from a local publisher of new authors who have become household names.
Do not take the rejection as the end, rather an opportunity to build on by improving your craft and stepping up the game.
Do not give up!

We, at U write what U like, would like to open the field to budding poets, a platform to showcase their talents in an effort to get quality work published.
We are inviting poets as well as publishers to drink from the well of poetic talent and to contribute to a literate South Africa!

Keep writing!

28 July 2010

Fat Lady Next Door

Just a short walk from my door
Resides a white fat lady.
Her husband is black, like me
But I have a story to tell.

Just like her. Her cubs are chubby.
Overweight with complacency
And utterly boastful.
She claims her children
To be of the best breed ever.
I laugh, and tears come out

Many years before my birth,
The children of the fat lady came to our house.
The looted it out,
Ransacked it, stole from us.
Yes, the fat lady’s children did that.

My mother was left sore.
Her seed was taken from her.
She was left with almost nothing,
But she survived.

The fat lady next door,
Her story so easy to tell.
I even marvel at her offspring.
She’s made fat her tummy,
From the sweat of my mother’s children.
She shouts orders, makes rules.
She plans even for my household.
And what’s worse,
She dumps her junk
At my backyard.

She has married a man of my color.
She is now growing ever resilient,
And she just won’t shut up.

Fat lady next door.
I know all that you’ve done.
I shall not share in your plunder,
I will not wear your silk, drink your milk
Or even learn your ways.
I will sulk in the bush still,
Just like how we were,
When you first came to our house.

Kofi Anane Kyeremeh

16 July 2010

Dear Bra Steve by Neo Thipe

Bra Steve

I got a chance to meet your memories; they informend:
you died in the line of duty, securing my freedom,
so i found it fair to forward you this progress report.
S.A democracy in it's teens, already chasing after CAPITALIST suger dads:
the rich are getting richer!
But porverty continues its reign of terror;
racism is as fit as ever.
I'm telling you;
peeling off a few leaves doesn't change the tree.
But our television changed; it changed our morals;
terminal illnesses;
sex sells,
H I Virus.
You see, the truth is as beautiful as a rose and just as thorny,
so they dangle the thorny bit, inflicting fear in our heart;
forcing us to choose fantasy, but fantasy is vanity;
and a lifetime of vanity is insanity.
And if truth shall set me free, then what is this freedom we claim.....
because frankly,
I'm not allowed to Write What I Like,
my history is out of fashion.
Xenophobia is just another word for black unconsciousness.
Unconscious poets take front row in defence of sodomy;
our ecconomy is in the hands of our oppressors;
we are still a colony.
They teach us the traditions of minority rule:
they say "focus on the positive"
what they mean is "ignore the poor, let them cremate in their shacks"
babies aborting their babies.

This is just a brief description of how our democracy is lived.

I hope to hear from you soon, sure bra Steve.


09 July 2010

Cumming by Mpho Matsitle

We must really enjoy it
Being fucked that is
I mean
It’s been happening ever since
But I gotta say
It became hardcore when the whitey got here
That was about four centuries ago
The whiteman has been at it
Ever since we bent over to pick up his Bible
Fucking away
And he hasn’t let go
He doesn’t wanna let go
He won’t let go
He will never let go
I mean why should he?
He is enjoying it
But do we enjoy it?
Being fucked over?
Do we?

Methinks we’ve gotten used to it
So much that we now like it
We even demand it
Beg for it
We have been institutionalised

At first we thought he was joking
“Hai maan uyenzani...eish, makgoa mare...lol”
Then we thought it aint funny no more
“What the fuck man?”
Then we fought it
“Shoot them to kill! Who!? The fuckers!”
Then we thought maybe it was our fault
“Senzeni na?”
Then we got used to it
“Hai! Re tla reng...go tla siama...Modimo o teng”

Then we started enjoying it
We demanded it
To get into positions of power
Or rather positions of less powerlessness
We flash our bare ass cheeks at conferences
We go around their meeting places
Begging for some more fucking
To their UN, IMF, World Bank, G8, FIFA
And we beg
“Oh no sir, forget Egypt”
“Tunisia has nothing on me”
“Come over, I’ll throw you a big party”
“If you would please just gimme summa that fucking”

Yes good people
We enjoy being fucked
And they must’ve really gotten good at it
If the multiple orgasms we’ve been having recently
Are anything to go by
Yes it’s true
We cum while being raped

Did we not cum in 90?
When the messiah walked amongst us
Our demigod
The saint who could do no wrong
Didn’t we?
And was it not at that time that De Beers
The fucker of all fuckers
Made sure most of its money doesn’t pass through SA
So that we wouldn’t get our dirty black paws on it?
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 94?
When we achieved universal suffrage
Which only translated
As has always been the case
Universal black suffer-age
Universal white privilege
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 95?
When our baases klapped their friends from oorkant
And had a huge party
Which we only attended as servants
Did they not
The very next day
Kick our lazy kaffir asses back into work
To clean after them
And carry their friends’ luggage for a few shillings?
Were we not still being fucked then?

Did we not cum in 96?
After we had enjoyed ourselves on the green grass
While they were busy constitutionalising our exploitation
Giving our oppressors eternal rights over stolen property
When it became unconstitutional
For us to have our own exclusive organisations
To discuss only among ourselves our rape ordeal
When we were told to concede that our oppressors
“Whatever their own actions, they remain still,”
A part of us
Were we not still being fucked then?

One wonders what shit they will come up with now
While we’re busy giving head to their plastic horns

Did we not mourn in 2000?
When the whiteman refused to hold his orgy in our backyard
Did we not see the sport presenter shed a tear on TV?

And in 2004?
Did we not have a mild orgasm
When we were told to make preparations for the orgy?

And the latest was in 2009
When on the seat of less powerlessness
Sat our resident Casanova
Man of the people
Father of the nation
There was pandemonium on the streets
Screaming and shouting
And yet the list of billionaires grew
And more jobs were shed
Are we not still being fucked?

And now?
Now we are building up
Counting down
To what we hope will be the most powerful orgasm ever
One that will shake the world
And we tell the hawkers to stay one kilometre away from the stadium
“Who cares if you want your child to go to school?”
We practically tell them
“Why the fuck would I want him to go to school”
“Free education my ass, we’re building stadiums”
“Who is going to fill my tank and wash my dishes?”
“Who is going to do my garden and wash my car?”
“With all them educated black bastards running around”
“Pussy is going to get mighty expensive”
“With all them educated black bitches running around”
Are we not still going to be fucked?

It will never stop
Because we bring it on ourselves
We are assisting our enemies in raping us
We are fucking ourselves over
Yes we are
We are perpetuating it
Was it not us
Throughout the 400 years
Who birthed askaris
Compradors and colonialists
Who will hold down their own people
Their own mothers
While they are being raped?
And even beg for a piece of the action?
It was not the whiteman who birthed them
It is us
And is it not us who give them the whiteman's education?
That teaches them how to exploit their own
Is it not us who make them our leaders?
Who give them power over our lives?
Is it not?
Of course it is!

So how dare we hate the whiteman for raping us?
When we’re always bending over frontwards for him
Exposing ourselves to him
Making it so easy for him
So attractive for him
To just fuck us over anytime anywhere
How dare we tell him not to?
No wonder he hates us so
We want him not to enjoy what is freely available

So until you are ready to take that panga
That panga you chop heads of your brothers with
That Okapi you rape your sisters with
That machete you committed genocide with in Rwanda
Unless you are prepared to use it to chop off his dick
Him and his black lieutenants
Until you are ready to do that
Shut the fuck up nigga and take your fucking like a man

03 July 2010

am i just another

am I
am I just another
with his fist in the air
seeking what might actually not really be there
where do we go from here
knowledge of self – is it something we can bear
I am African
yes I can
but can we
truly embrace change necessary for our advancement

we looking to an american
to solve problems african
he’s their man
who is our champion

are you talk and no walk
do you talk then walk
or jus full of talk
like so many

they say it begins with you

are you
are you just another
with fist in the air
living in fear
I’ll tell you where to go form, there

A-Fi-Kan (e)

Realise you not just another
you lion
bold, without fear
raw power
roar reverbating through the land
wise up – recognize you true potentia
potent! cannot measure ya
infinite! your possibilities

limited by one and only one


The Hall of Fame