Bongane Malele is from Bushbuckridge Shatale Mpumalanga, he came to Gauteng in the year 2006 to further his studies, he did just that and came out of tertiary level with a National diploma in Sports Management. with a desire to become a household name in Modelling and acting industry, he went from post to pillar in trying to establish himself in the public eye. that determination paid of he was featured in Isidingo as an extra that was the becoming of many thing s to come, he was featured in a music video, and the paroni advert. we as the Mapulana clan we are proud of this boy.Friday, September 28, 2012
Bongane Malele
Bongane Malele is from Bushbuckridge Shatale Mpumalanga, he came to Gauteng in the year 2006 to further his studies, he did just that and came out of tertiary level with a National diploma in Sports Management. with a desire to become a household name in Modelling and acting industry, he went from post to pillar in trying to establish himself in the public eye. that determination paid of he was featured in Isidingo as an extra that was the becoming of many thing s to come, he was featured in a music video, and the paroni advert. we as the Mapulana clan we are proud of this boy.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
REMEMBERING PHASHA(By Goodenough Mashego)
(This is ine of the poems from Taste Of My Vomit by Nuff)
suspicious minds, never trusting heart, but I loved you
what distance can we travel in the vicinity of strangers
no convo, no hugs, air smells of danger
suspicious minds, we can't go the distance thrust by life
you came lived, hoped, 'til the night you died
silence paved a way for your final bow-out
though lived noisy characterised by drunken bouts
ululating crowds as you prowled the sports grounds
number one skinny pitcher, ghetto hero went down
why we shout your praises now, cuz we miss you today
twenty six short lived years two hundred & sixty pages of biography
memories of the whores who shared your life
the kaffirs who made you bleed
your friends who toasted to your contradiction with spirits
black sheep that deserted the flock, only recovered @ death
I reminisce 'bout the smile the long skinny dick
the mouth to mouth convos 'bout your hopes for the future
the time you opened your heart & told me 'bout your fears for dying
that was the future you were never meant to have
something so abruptly snatched @ the peak of your youth
condolences can fill a room but love only your heart
question is, why do we go for praises when we can give appreciation
why shout rhetoric @ night vigils when we can whisper @ drinking sessions
born with a silver spoon but later joined the majority have-nots
no wonder you departed a have-not, mourned by simple people
in remembering you we revisit the courage
you & your demons face to face in an empty grey cell
your ability to cry when something hurt
we lack that trait in this days of trying
can't even lie 'bout loving our hearts eclipsed by hate
you were borrowed to us, never given, we should freely let you go
-ends-
suspicious minds, never trusting heart, but I loved you
what distance can we travel in the vicinity of strangers
no convo, no hugs, air smells of danger
suspicious minds, we can't go the distance thrust by life
you came lived, hoped, 'til the night you died
silence paved a way for your final bow-out
though lived noisy characterised by drunken bouts
ululating crowds as you prowled the sports grounds
number one skinny pitcher, ghetto hero went down
why we shout your praises now, cuz we miss you today
twenty six short lived years two hundred & sixty pages of biography
memories of the whores who shared your life
the kaffirs who made you bleed
your friends who toasted to your contradiction with spirits
black sheep that deserted the flock, only recovered @ death
I reminisce 'bout the smile the long skinny dick
the mouth to mouth convos 'bout your hopes for the future
the time you opened your heart & told me 'bout your fears for dying
that was the future you were never meant to have
something so abruptly snatched @ the peak of your youth
condolences can fill a room but love only your heart
question is, why do we go for praises when we can give appreciation
why shout rhetoric @ night vigils when we can whisper @ drinking sessions
born with a silver spoon but later joined the majority have-nots
no wonder you departed a have-not, mourned by simple people
in remembering you we revisit the courage
you & your demons face to face in an empty grey cell
your ability to cry when something hurt
we lack that trait in this days of trying
can't even lie 'bout loving our hearts eclipsed by hate
you were borrowed to us, never given, we should freely let you go
-ends-
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