My Name

Many people live in wonder where my name comes from,
It is unique and to that they all can't be fond.
Pallang is but my Sotho name,

They told me it is a very strange name,
Told me it's unique and awkward
That its even hard to pronounce
Yet still I spelled it to them
P-A-LL-A-N-G
PALLANG is my name
It was supposed to be with an H but white woman who did my cirtificate chose to exclude the H
Maybe she wanted to make it easier
But still it ain't approved...

I end up being called with odd names
Pallanga the xhosas have called me
Palleng, Pillang or even Thabang the whites and coloureds called me
Yet my name is sweet and easy to pronounce
I'm Pallang Mofokeng a Sotho child...

They ask what it means
I say
It means overflow
The rivers filled with overflowing waters,
The cup of David filled with blessings
Then from there still they don't understand...

I say
I got the name from my late grand father
He had 4 daughters and only one son who happens to be my father
When I was born his grand son
He called out loud to the region of Morefe in Walaza
"PHALLANG BAFOKENG REFEOwe NGWANA A MOSHANYANA"
Then he probably called me his second son my own father's young brother
The name means the overflowing of blessings in the Mofokemg clan.
Still my name is beyond their understanding

They claim it's too much complicated for their tongues to pronounce,
So they resort into calling me with the meaning of my name

I end up being called overflow
I Pallang son of the great basotho clan of BAFOKENG...

My Name...

I always died a senseless death at the feet of affection,
I always compromised the word compromise to this life's own zeal
My pride and keys to joy were thrown to hell,
All in the name of love so well

We were birds heading to the world of honey bees,
Yet you lost focus to the weak morning breeze.

Can't you see
That we meant to see
Beautiful life hidden beyond the seas?

I sang the love songs of hatred,
Sweet text which contained bitterness.

Can't you?

Call me not be it your love is gold,
Absent me from your raging sentiment so cold.
Love is Anathema, whose roots are pleasures
Not to incline but be spent beyond measures.

No. No! No! sense of it all,
Is life so on the roll.
But dear Princess neglect me not, when I utter 'No inclination help won't be gold'
Love is not silver nor can you fake it gold.

Roses are precious to give, a pleasure for them who receive
But woe they be deceived!
Love's named romanticism bared by givers who give
Yet love's far a mystery from romantic gifts, she is
beyond what men can give.

Call me not be it your Zest is gold
Love is silver, love is stars in this world so cold..

My Mockingbird


He wrote her a song, it's the words of his song he left unfinished,
Supposedly it was love, yeah they left it freezed.
Selfish of how they used to feel,
Just each's presence could breathe them peace.

Hand twined hands they could walk the miles,
Loved her as much as she did, read it through her beautiful smiles.
Beauty of an angel? **** she was purely beautified,
One fiction written in and out her eyes, she was ****** fair he could tell a story of lies.

Nevertheless she'll never know his real love, on that his seat is tears are blood,
What a nightmare he sighs he cries
Relief will finish his song, not later but today,
Here he begins it  says:

" You are my Mockingbird,  you mesmerise my world,
With your voice that of the unknown angels, ****! God Jesus I'm outta words
Your eyes are diamonds glittering
**** girl you leave my heart pumping hard, beating and longing hard for your loving. "

That's what he wrote allow me to say,
He wouldn't dare **** throw it away
Oops that ain't how it works, this muhfucken world is bitter and harsh,
Thus something happened and tore him apart...

I wanted to tell her But my words were stuck here and There
Because coz
I was afraid
Afraid She never felt the same.

During those days Days of Laughter,Joy,and Happiness
Where we'd be sharing the same sit,
Drinking from, from From the same glass
When I could see the Stars Right through
Trough those beautiful eyes

Those Moments I could Pause
Wanting to talk
In those long walks
But my throat filled with chokes 4 the words inside Were Chocked

Staring right at her face
I fell I fell in the deep pit
A deep pit of Love I fell and did hurt
Because a fear to tell I had.

I wanted to tell her, but I was blind
I was blind to see,see, to see the love
The love I longed for in life
I wanted to tell her how I felt
Pity I couldn't tell
For Me and Her had turned to be friends
But that's not where I wanted it to end...

Hi my name is Pallang Mofokeng, and this is my Honest poem 🤍
I first saw the sun August the 3rd 25 years ago, apparently that makes me a Millennial or Gen Y
I’m not clued up what that means
I’m 1 Meter 65, I weigh what's considered thin for a man my age
I do not exercise, and I am always the shortest amongst my friends,
Well also the youngest
I’m a sucker for a girl with beautiful eyes, and smart brains.

I’m still learning how to hold long conversations
I’m often good at striking the talk, and always the bad at keeping it flowing
I was born early and I’ve been late ever since

I love books a lot
I love words and I dearly love poetry
I have been told that I kind of have a stutter, people say it develops when I’m in an uncomfortable environment, on the real side I really swallow my words when someone says something stupid
Every time I’m in front of a beautiful girl I happen to want to say a lot of beautiful things about her beauty but my words leaves me in the play.

I have this strange fascination with stories with sad endings and broken promises
Maybe it’s because I have learned that life is nothing like happy endings or fairy tale
Such lessons I learnt 12 times when I fell in love with women who loved me more than I loved them,
And the 9 times I fell in love with women
Who would never love me back
I know the numbers are not balancing
But to be honest, I think we never actually meet our ultimate someone
Actually relationships, they always remind me how I’m not scared of death
But I’m scared of the crowd, and I wonder what would happen when I have a crowd surrounding my coffin

I’m shy. Yesterday I blushed to the reflection of my face in the mirror
I closed my eyes and made crazy silly smiles
I could not complement myself, my stutter came in play
I have had very few fights growing up I can count them without using my toes, but I have had a lot of beatings
That was me beating myself perfecting a life that was never meant to be perfect
Doesn’t sound right hey?
I have made a lot of wrongs than rights
I  have judged myself more than having been judged

Good morning, my name is Pallang
I enjoy cooking and showing off my improvements
And ignore every negative comment made my way
I don’t find it easy expressing my feelings as often as I need to
I have a confidence so low it always goes unrecognized, I always smile even when I don’t need to
My life is a book always edited by my perfectionist mind, convincing myself that I am worth something
Something maybe a name

I don’t know much, but I think
I think heaven if full of poetry
God is monitoring my brain system
It reminds him that, some people heal others even when they themselves are dying inside.