Gert Strydom, 4 march 2016
When from me she is out of sight
in my innermost mind
her eyes do burn bright
and I do constantly find
some thoughts of her, of her great grace,
as if in the depths of my soul she does glow,
as if each expression of her face
I do intimately know
and yet at times it seems that I do know her not,
that knowing her breaks my heart and takes a lot
but still the emotions of her eyes
in my inner thoughts never dies.
Gert Strydom, 3 march 2016
How chilly like winter have you been
with emotions of love stripped in the bud
and what dark unpleasant experiences I have seen
as if what love had been between us had been cut
and nothing of the laughter and light that I had seen at a time
was left as if it had been killed by decease.
You are happy as when our love had been at its prime
when you do talk and act with a kind of ease
as if of those happy days there are to be many more,
as if you do not want to be from this relationship free,
as if I am the only one that you do adore
and I do wonder what is to be
while in my heart there is a kind of fear
when in the evening to me you do draw near.
Gert Strydom, 2 march 2016
Some times I wonder if God only knows
how I struggle in the depth of my throes
to find the right clear words to express love to you
while I do take destiny’s blows
and even if I say with all humility
that you are far more than dear to me
my words are totally stripped
as if from all meaning free
and yet I do still try to write
as to express my true heart I might.
Gert Strydom, 1 march 2016
(for my wife, Daleen on 25 February)
I love you to the depth of the most distant reaches of my soul,
in the innocent ways of a child,
to the places where understanding does end,
but also to the intimate need of a grown man.
I love you further than my life does go
and I love you in each day’s
simple and complicated experiences
and on this birthday of yours
where we have been together for five years
I wish to love you to the very end of my days.
Gert Strydom, 13 january 2016
On long beach
we swam in the cold water
before walking up to the wreck
of the Kakapo
which were covered with sand
with pieces of rusting iron
sticking out
like a big skeleton
and a round semi-circle at the back.
The sand was soft
and white under our feet
with Chapman’s Peak and Noordhoek
towering up above us,
within walking distance.
Gert Strydom, 12 january 2016
I do not need stars to tell me
that my life, my destiny is written,
that somewhere someone reads
some thoughts of mine
and that everyone has a impact
on each other.
As my eyes gaze into the dark night
trying to see past eternity,
I keep looking for the light,
to see the presence of the One
that guides me.
Gert Strydom, 11 january 2016
I see her dancing gaily
swirling the leaves outside
as if her spirit would forever be young
and although the autumn of my years
is all ready leaving its marks
I am still strong in body and spirit
and now a more mature man.
I see time creeping
into the corners of my body
and ever slowly chiselling
the features of who, I am
but still she embraces me
as if she’s part of the divine
with the knowledge of her ways
as if the entire world is mine
and yet sometimes I am cold
from her breath kissing my cheeks
and I realize
that I am turning old.
Gert Strydom, 8 january 2016
Forward I stride
in the mind’s swamp
immersing at places,
bogged down
in the damp mud
struggling on
treading were feet
had stamped before
through painful thoughts
and more happy ones.
Curtained off by swelling fog
rising all around me,
blotting out the copious flow
of the river of the soul
and the only thing
I am able to see
is the treads that I leave
below my feet, ever trampling on
through foul smelling, rotting weeds.
In front of me emerging
from all of this
a little hillock rises majestically
and I see hundreds of rock rabbits
running to and fro
along its slopes
and the nearer I get
the earth becomes more firm underfoot.
Orange-red aloes grow here and there,
Sugar-bushes with huge blooming Protea-flowers
are cupped in splendour in colours of red, white
and pink, scented sweet,
are all around me everywhere
as if I have stumbled
into a little piece of heaven
right against the morass.
Gert Strydom, 7 january 2016
Dawn now wakes me earlier each morning,
bringing light at a time
where a month a go there was only night
with a chilly breeze
and where the darkness
were like a blanket
spread wide over the garden, the houses
of the suburb
I now see the horizon getting grey
with the sun sneaking
slowly over it
and sometimes when I wake up
a little bit later
and pull the thick curtains open
and its already a bright sunny day
with a sweet freshness breezing in.
Gert Strydom, 6 january 2016
It is a kitchen with a big settee,
and big old coal and wood stove,
a big table where the whole extended family
ate great meals, sat chatting for hours
sounding to outsiders
like a riot
with a fire burning joyously
or only having comforting glowing coals
and at eleven in the morning, or four
in the afternoon
tea in porcelain cups, sometimes Swiss roll
or her own fruitcake
soaked in brandy
and baked to perfection was served.
It was a place where my grandmother
was bigger than life,
a lady born from Scottish ancestry,
but more an Afrikaner than me
with a true belief in the creator God,
where her love was a dazing light
till one sad night, leukaemia finished her years,
stripped her from me
while I was away at university
and the family
had never been the same again
like it was then
and suddenly that kitchen, that house
was stripped bare from furniture,
was painted and sold
and somehow I was the only one
who did not get
any last words from her.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
