Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013
Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates
and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.
In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,
Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates
and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.
In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,
with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.
with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.
Gert Strydom, 9 may 2013
Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates
and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.
In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,
Who killed all of these
these carcasses of elephants,
buffalo and almost every wild gazelle
vulture calls to its mates
and descending, in a dark swarm
of feathers and wings
the pecking begins.
In the distance man drives off
with his implements of war
with military trucks laden with loot,
with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.
with ivory, meat, skins stacked
without a care
to the consequences of his deeds
and happily vulture feeds.
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
Each of my forefathers stood their man
and in the evening with a Bible they sat around a table,
from the dark early hours they did already farm
and they stayed trusting the heavenly Father.
Now I do wonder where everything is going
while I dig in my own small garden,
while with sunny eyes my wife watches me
and wavering I do try and cling to the hand of God.
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
Far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out
and in the roar I could not hear myself shout;
far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out,
far too many enemies were coffined in
the endless din, in walls of steel and tin;
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out.
Far too many enemies were coffined in
battle tanks, armoured cars shot out
and in the roar I could not hear myself shout;
far too many enemies were coffined in.
Gert Strydom, 7 may 2013
A news editor do not pray for good things
as misfortune, terrible things are headline news.
An unusual sudden flood, a tornado that destroys,
people dying gruesome somewhere else
draws readers and more and more newspapers are sold.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Never do our feelings seem to abate
and even summer at its prime
at times against our passion seems temperate
and yet they may grow more intense in time
as between us nothing is just moderate
and the intensity seems like a sin or a crime
while daily we do grow more affectionate.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Never do our feelings seem to abate
and even summer at its prime
at times against our passion seems temperate
and yet they may grow more intense in time
as between us nothing is just moderate
and the intensity seems like a sin or a crime
while daily we do grow more affectionate.
Gert Strydom, 6 may 2013
Our intimate joy, the great tenderness
has something much deeper than just gratefulness
and in every touch when were are in bliss
it’s as if we are truly one in each caress.
Gert Strydom, 3 may 2013
I see how a fairy
under your slim fingers
gets a face, a own life
and it’s as if she comes alive
do want to tell something
to the whole wide world in water colours
and when her eyes follow me somewhat examining
I do wonder why up to know
she had been hidden somewhere?
Gert Strydom, 3 may 2013
It’s as if the darkness
walks over the twilight abyss
with a blackness that totally removes sight
before the first stars appear slowly
and outside something rustles in the grass
when the past day does still linger in thoughts.
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
