Mpho Petrus Manwedi
Biography of Mpho Petrus Manwedi
Who am I? You know I have been searching for an answer to this question for the past 54 years, February 03 1952, and still I don’t know.
Mpho Manwedi you say? Actually it should be Manoeli, but someone during the apartheid years saw fit to write it as he/she saw fit and there was nothing I could do so I just left it at that and this adds to, “Who is Mpho Manwedi? ”
The name Mpho means a gift and I would really like to live up to it. But then, who is he?
Is he, that stubborn man who wants to do away with the injustices of this world? A man who would rather set aside his own problems and find fulfillment in helping others?
Or is he, that little man-boy who cries when he hears a sad song? The man-boy who laughs when he watches comics on television? The one, who gets frustrated by the sadness in this world?
The man-boy, who will rather forgive and forget?
The one, who will give his last penny just to make somebody happy or, the man-boy who will pick up a pen and just write about what he feels?
Or, is he that detached individual who gets bored even in a happy crowd? The individual, who would rather sit inside and look out through the window of his soul and watch the world go by?
The individual who calms the stubborn man and brings comfort to the man-boy?
Who is Mpho?
Well maybe you can help me find out so go on you are welcome to try.
Mpho Petrus Manwedi Poems
I hesitated as I touched her legs And she coaxed me on as if she could sense The inexperience of a fifteen year old boy I ran my hand along her smooth body and I became afraid
I wish I were the song That comes to your mind when you are happy I wish I were the comforting words Of the song you sing when you are sad
Be A Man
I was yanked from my mother’s womb Pushed into this world Without a choice Slapped on my behind
Suddenly I was awake Wide-awake like I had never gone to sleep And the face of the clock at my bedside Showed me the twelfth night watchman
Do I Go For It?
I sat there my head bowed in dejection It had been a long search But now that it was ended I did not know what to do with what I had in my hand
It is long since I have been here Yes you may ask, where is here? I say you may ask, why here? So listen to what I’ve got to say about this here
How She Must Have Felt?
She grabbed me roughly from my child sleep And threw me on her back like a sack of mealies She used to carry from the fields. Her back was knotted with the hump in her heart
Listen O' Mothers
Listen O’ mothers listen O’ sisters Listen the spirit of reason is in me And I tell of the hurt that should never be.
What Should I Do?
‘Mpho… come out and enjoy the shine It is a beautiful day out here; ’ said Dee I stood up and started towards the door, For a moment I felt the thrill and the excitement
I have been on this road I know the signs I can show you all the landmarks And it had not been an easy road.
My friend you say that I cannot know the pain you are feeling That I will never comprehend the situation you are in But let me tell you this
I look at you and I can see sadness on your face I can feel the weight of the goodbye upon your shoulders Your eyes brim with tears of farewell And I ask myself, Why?
Precious, how precious? Like a diamond you are so beautiful Yet like that precious stone you are so cold. From afar you look so vulnerable
Little man child grow up Stop moaning and feeling sorry for yourself Remember the world doesn’t owe you anything You owe it to the world because
Why, But Why?
You wake up to a glorious morn
To a cheerful song of the birds
The clear skies sighing in the acknowledgement
Of a magnificent day to be
But in your soul all is dark
Your body reflects the defects of your spirit
Then a question filters through the sieve of your empty mind
Why, but why?