Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
There is a kind of love and loving,
that is a very strange kind of thing
that even with separation and death
still keeps living and existing.
Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
and next me you lie naked and stretched out,
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and when I listen to your breathing
I notice your back, arm and slender neck.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
and my certainty about us, about you becomes a fact,
when your breathing continually covers me like kisses
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and at a time my life was shackled in,
when days moved quickly through the calendar.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
as if at times I listen to the secrets of the night
until the sun licks over the distant hillocks
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and although at times in life I loose my way
nothing can violate the love between us.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness.
Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
Continually our love does me surprise,
as sometimes you bring me pain
and sometimes you hold on to me
while sometimes it feels as if I am reaching into a whirlpool
but sometimes you take away everything bad.
Continually our love does me surprise,
and sometimes tears run over your cheeks
but sometimes it’s as if the sun shines through your eyes
and sometimes you hold on to me
while our love is much stronger than just a maybe,
and I am smitten by the look on your face.
Continually our love does me surprise,
as if new depths continually comes to it,
you become part of my awareness
and sometimes you hold on to me
and it’s as if we perfectly fit into each other’s lives
while continually you are part of me, of my existence;
continually our love does me surprise,
and sometimes you hold on to me.
Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
Since childhood the night scares you
as if here in Africa dark things do sneak about
and when the stars appear you start to long
for tomorrows when the sun hangs bright in the blue sky
and it feels as if something almost touchable sneaks up on you.
Since childhood the night scares you
as if even the wind hisses at times like a deadly snake,
as if something dangerous is drinking water from the dog’s bowl
and when the stars appear you start to long
do want to replace your fears with my presence,
and you want to baste in the passion of our love.
Since childhood the night scares you
and it feels as if something evil wants to catch you
when you sometimes find shelter in the bath
and when the stars appear you start to long
while I dry the tears from your rosy cheek,
and hold on to you through the night.
Since childhood the night scares you
and when the stars appear you start to long.
Clifford, 25 september 2012
As time moves forward into the future we stand in the present watching
current events become the past, not much longer shall we last as the
end grows near to all that is living.
Birds die and rain down from the azure sky that encompasses our beings
forevermore until the end of time.
We wonder why,
Fish die and float to the top of the water that flows throughout our
world like the blood throughout our beings.
We wonder why,
People spread apocalyptic rumors of death and destruction soon to come
for what reason.
We wonder why,
To have all we have without having the one thing that we all yearn
to have.
An answer, an answer of what lays between the lines, all of our
futures to come.
Deception lies in the souls of many, to what extent we do not know.
Trust is all we have next to belief. Deceivers are the creators of
distrust.
You may tell me you know, but I know you do not know, you trust, you
believe, I shall not be at blame for the creation of distrust by
deceivers for thinking outside of the box.
-Cliff
Clifford, 25 september 2012
When the darkness fades short,
and the new day is born.
What will the morning bring you?
will you have feeling of spite? pity? love? and such.
Only you will unravel the answer,
every day until the end of time.
Not every day until the end of time,
But every day until the end of your time.
When your legacy, memory, and dust are all that is left behind.
Having our nights of sleep let us recollect energy,
to spend on a new while the stars in the sky still burn.
In time days are easily calculated by the rise and fall of Horus and Set, if so seen.
Time is of the essence or is it not?
The matter is in which you foresee your life,
it is not the matter of others for they have their own.
Unless your paths in the world connect
for then they will have the option to take responsibility.
-Cliff
Shadowpain, 24 september 2012
They once told me that a heartless person is someone who cared too much about something once in his life.....
They once told me love starts with a smile... ignites with a kiss and ends in tears...
They once told me love blinds the eyes and clouds the mind....
Here's my story.. again.
of a reflection so beautiful it could break water...
a thing that cannot be painted or photographed...
because the hands of men cannot capture the shapes and details of her..
A smile that makes every frown vanish...
Teeth as white as snow...
Eyes like lush forest groves....
And hair like copperwires....
She shocked me and one jolt was enough...
How she guided me to the gates on angel wings...
Angelic glory and the trumpets of thousands..
hid the failure that was lurking underneath the surface..
A flash of thunder struck my skull and my eyes opened..;
No trumpets nor gates of gold
just a lake and cold hands...
out she comes..; soaked in mud and water...
A ghostly apparation of once was..
that beautiful girl i tried to portray...
I embrace her between the sludge and the kelp...
And when i open my eyes again...
there's nothing but a body of water...
the dead trunk of a tree that sticks out like the hand of a drowning victim...
and nothing but....
cold hands... and silence...
Shadowpain, 24 september 2012
Je reste sur place
Tu continues …….
J’arrête à toutes choses que tu dis ou fait, je continue à accrocher dans les rêves…
Et tu continues……
J’arrête.. à chaque photo que je vois….
Et tu continues….
Je reste sur place, un oasis stagnant..
Tu fluxes plus de la source à la chute d’eau… et tu emportes beauté où tu vas…
Je reste derrière, soif de rêves de toi…
Je reste derrière, avec riens d’autre que la poussière dans mains….
Et tu continues
Un de ces jours tu disparaîtras…. Un de ces jours tu auras trouvé le bonheur ..
Un de ces jours tu auras oublié moi… Peut – être tu as fait ça….
Et je suis la poussière sur ta pantalon que se détache avec le premier coup de vent…
Si tu sais… combien de temps je reste.. à tout moment je peux jouir de ton visage…
Pendant que ça reste…
Encore quatre mois et ensuite tu départes… disparu…
Que tu fleuris comme la rose qui tu as toujours été….
Et la seule chose que j’ai encore.. est ta facebook… les souvenirs de ton visage… les cassettes de ta voix dans ma tête…
Encore quatre mois…. Et tu es disparu… cultivé a un professeur brillant….
Et puis viennent les larmes…
Tous vas si vite… pour toi.. pendant que je suis encore toujours au début
Jamais parlée deux phrases…et quand tellement enchanté….
Arrêter sur chaque seconde, chaque respiration… chaque détail….
Et un jour tu as fané…
Et je reste sur place
Parce que je ne veux jamais oublier toi…
M…. ais tu as déjà m’oublié…
Tu continues…
kipruto muthemba, 24 september 2012
You claim to be naïve
But how like a knife
You manage to open me up
I wonder
How like a drug
You manage to get me hooked up
To your heaven-like charms
I still wonder
And how like a fire
You manage just with a kiss
To set my whole body amiss
I will forever wonder
Satish Verma, 24 september 2012
I hate the self-immolation
of orange sex.
Weather was leaving
blue strings on the skin.
Redemption was incomplete
by sharing the legs
Lips will not knead
the ears.
Like wakng in darkness
for a passage to grief.
Black moon will step aside
for a flame at the end of tunnel.
Satish Verma
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