BOOKED @ Muse: Thabo “Flo” Mokale
Thabo Mokale, passionately known as “Flo”, is a poet, writer, actor, stage director, and entertainer whose performances leave audiences feeling light hearted and cracking in laughter.
In addition to being one of South Africa’s favourite young poets – with poems such as “I thought of Writing you a poem”, and “Hi, My name is Flo” – he is also a powerful beatboxer and plays the Storotoro (jaw harp), with which he has accompanied the likes of Ursula Rucker, Lebo Mashile, Stacey Anne Chin, Mak Manaka, Roger Bonair Agard and Steve Coleman, among others.
His poems also speak to the seriousness of violence against women and children, so this BOOKED is posted at the right time, during the 16 Days.
Flo has been instrumental in building relations among poets in the Johannesburg poetry movement. He orgnised enchanting poetry shows at Cool Runnings (Melville) and at the late Horror cafe in Newtown, and has now moved to Kospotong, also in Newtown. He is a member of LIKWIDTONGUE, a poetry collective that keeps the fire of performance poetry aflame in Johannesburg. When the muse caught up with Flo, he was awaiting the birth of his new baby, as well as reading The Famished Road by Ben Okri.
I THOUGHT OF…
I thought of writing you a poem about how heavenly and Divine you are,
But the lord beat me to it by creating angelic beings so he can keep a piece of you next to him in heaven.
Then I thought of writing you a poem about your eyes, but the stars beat me to it by mimicking the brightness of your eyes when they shine.
Again I thought of writing you a poem about your lips, but the bees beat me to it by creating sweet honey to replicate the sweetness of your kiss.
Then again I thought of writing you a poem about your smile, but the flowers beat me to it by blossoming and blooming whenever you chose to smile.
Again I thought of writing you a poem about your voice, but the birds beat me to it by imitating your voice in their melodic songs.
Then I thought of writing you a poem about your sadness, but the clouds beat me to it by weeping rain whenever you chose to cry.
Again I thought of writing you a poem about how your presence makes me feel, but Mother Nature beat me to it by painting the rainbow after the storm.
And then I thought of writing you a poem about appreciating you, but the sun and the moon beat me to it by rising to honor you and by the leaves falling at you feet to pay their respect to you.
Then again I thought of writing you a poem about love, but ( bloody) Shakespeare beat me to by writing “shall I compare thee to a summers day…”
Again I thought of writing you a poem about how nice I could treat you if I could have and keep you as my girl, but your man beat me to it by having you first.
Then finally my heart decided to write you a poem and it wrote,
I LOVE YOU.
LOVE IS BLIND
She said that looks don’t matter, but she went for the other guy with better looks when I was not looking
And I have to admit it they looked good together
But it looks as if things are not looking good because she doesn’t look back when she sees me looking
And look how he left her not looking so good
And it looks as if looks can be really deceiving
Because she judged her book by the way it looks
I mean she was the apple of my eye
I would catch every tear she’d cry
But she didn’t see it like that, and I hate seeing her like that, when I see she doesn’t like that
When they don’t see eye to eye
When its and eye for an eye
And I guess in their land of the love blind, this one eyed man is king
Who turned a blind eye and stood on the side walk watching
As she got smacked by the hands of her watch, not carrying whose watching
When he should’ve been the one whose watching
Because now it’s a time of ticks and not tocking, ticks and not tocking
And now the windows to her soul are tinted dark blue, and its hard for her to see through and see that I am still looking.
I guess love is really blind.
– Poems copyright Flo Mokale