OCW, 17 may 2013
Oh Muse of the evening vers from the Unknown
stay awake another one more drive
to midnight shades i surrender no crown
left for me to hand over feel my thrive
the path of my mistakes is blurred into words
clouds over the tracks my childhood gifs
drink the way out to the cabin of wonders
from golden fields to starfull nights
when the need to write is riper
I'll find a way to put music & mind on paper
wait for meon the other side of days never seen
for Iam worthy of the destinations I've been
roads where they go and roads where they draw
follow the everlasting journey the King and Queen's awe.
OCW
*
05/14+15+17/2103
Gert Strydom, 17 may 2013
During my whole life, for many years,
I have been waiting on you
and then suddenly you walked into my life.
I do remember
that it was unexpected when I noticed you
and now suddenly
I do swear before the heaven and hell
that our love is much more than just a game.
Gert Strydom, 17 may 2013
Outside a swarm of doves peck yellow maize,
my heart gallops
along the dusty roads
of the lower town
and shaking like a immature child I am searching
where cars come to a halt
for you who are rolling away like a large marble
and when we are apart I do feel unsettled.
Satish Verma, 17 may 2013
I was keeping a vigil in holy town
on a water cut. Lucy, Lucy did you have
a dirty mind?
This luciferina, will not tell the truth.
Venus and Venus flytrap had a
parallel birth.
And I was facing the dismembered tragedy
of freedom, unblooded in alien land
of unthinkable prayers.
Where the country will carry my pilgrimage
of fears and apprehensions? I thought,
and therefore I disappeared.
In convoy of great ideas, the escort was
a beautiful god, who went to sleep
when assault came.
Satish Verma
Gert Strydom, 16 may 2013
In every face that I behold,
I see a certain chill, a certain cold
and in the distance white mine heaps glimmer
light flash over tall buildings, glass windows shimmer
and it is not the Johannesburg of old
and everybody fits in,
the gum sniffing beggar children
with faces becoming obscure
and waggling limbs now miss-formed without a cure
the street whores, displaying their wares
smiling as without a care, with a cheap kind of glamour
calling out obscenities
along with workers from manufacturing industries
walking in rubber boots
in blue overalls
and even the people in ties and suits
who are in cahoots
with the moneymen
fit perfectly in to a heartless city without a soul
where the value of money is the criterion
that turns men and women into carrion,
in a place that imprisons, like a huge enormous gaol.
Gert Strydom, 16 may 2013
In tribal dress some smiling girls pass me,
their bare breasts shake,
there is something natural in their gaze
like cats that wake
to the world around, predators moving;
a small keepsake
swing on a golden chain in the valley
of breasts, I am caught in the small alley
while in a throng they pass with sweet laughter,
captivating
like big prowling kittens they move along,
they are eating
me up with their huge gleaming dark brown eyes,
are debating,
are sneaking up with a wild innocence,
yet with a clear mature insistence
Gert Strydom, 16 may 2013
Daily I see bearded men with turbans
around their heads
dressed in white cloaks, women carrying
their prayer beads
in some colourful saris while in rags
a beggar pleads
and we are worlds apart from each other,
in their views and life some do not bother
and I am dressed in shoes, pants and shirt,
always wearing
one of several costly suits to church
have anything,,
take a collar and tie to business
where I fit in
but are disregarding the poor old tramp
are viewing him as just another scamp.
che, 16 may 2013
my caged heart can never be free. while you are the keeper, the one that holds the key. even in dreams i cant let you go. either waiting for you, or or chasing your shadow. i catch sight of a falling star. which leads me, to where you are. through the waterfalls, across still lakes,beside the ancient tree. i find you there,,my angel, watching out for me.......................................................... *** i will protect you, i will hold you,,,, if if you will follow me back home. come ,dream with me tonight,,,my love so i dont wake alone..
David de la Croes, 16 may 2013
I wanted to write you a poem,
but there are not enough words
in all the languages of the world
to express the essence of your being.
I wanted to paint you a picture
to exhibit the warmth and brightness
and beauty you bring to my life
but there are not enough colours
in the spectrum of light to illustrate
the intense vividness of your presence.
I wanted to compose
you a symphony to give harmony
to all the music you bring to me
but there are not enough notes
in the musical scale to bring forth
the melodious nature of your being.
And so I write this simple letter to say:
You are my first thought in the morning,
and the last thought at night,
and in all the moments in between
I constantly think and dream of you.
I love you. Always.
David de la Croes, 16 may 2013
You were gone before my mind
could grasp the brush which paints
faces on memory's canvas.
Vaguely, flashes of an open grave
on a sunny winter's day -
bare feet on my fourth birthday -
and pitiful looks from unfamiliar faces.
But I remember lonely childhood days
when I would visit your grave
bringing flowers picked from sandy fields -
And other times I would just come and cry
when it seemed I was the only child
in the whole wide world without a mother.
Poverty sent you to an early grave
and was my childhood's constant shadow.
Of all your children I was the lonesome one,
always seeking solace in solitude,
always wandering in lonely paths,
an exile from embracing arms
and motherly healing kisses.
Through the years I tried to reconstruct you
through siblings' tales of your mothering,
Although heredity ensures that part of you
will live in me and will continue in my off-spring
I felt I needed more than scientific fact
to find meaning in my sense of being.
Death has stripped me of you
but death has no power over love.
I am a fruit of your love, and as long
as I am able to approach someone in love,
I am connected to you. You are long gone.
I am still your son.
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