Gert Strydom, 22 october 2013
Outside something sneaks around during the dark moon
and it comes nearer and nearer and stands still
when the voice of a child calls in the distance
and I imagine it’s already on the porch.
At the window I see red eyes gleaming,
it looks as if something from hell wants to climb in,
I hear it walk around the house
and it pushes and bumps against the kitchen door.
The yard is full of fear and him
when in terror every child wants to run away
but evil comes nearer and still nearer
and a kind of alarm comes with him.
Outside there is the smell of sulphur and fire,
in the distance a bell counts off midnight,
somewhere a woman yells from pain and fear
and suddenly everything is silent and it is pitch dark
when only a shadow moves past
and disappear into the depths of the narrow alley way.
Gert Strydom, 21 october 2013
With you I want to make eye contact
and then I want to love you,
want to massage your back and feet
until al of the love cards
in Cardies makes sense,
and every love song
has a secret meaning for us.
Gert Strydom, 21 october 2013
How difficult it’s sometimes
to decipher the codex of your heart
and at times when your eyes catch mine
its if sunshine and deep truths
hang in their depths
but sometimes I see something else
which I have difficulty to fathom
when your eyes keep longing.
Sometimes it’s as if our love
and I am precious to you,
as if nothing can disfigure our love,
as if you look at me with a comprehension
that already comes for ages
but at other times
the deeper meaning of our love is disguised
and then I wonder
about what I am seeing in your eyes,
about that which bounces in the bell of your heart
but in the language of love
I will try and talk to you
and look at you and catch your eye
until all of our dreams are similar
when I find comprehension
for the wonderful things that remain unsaid.
Gert Strydom, 18 october 2013
The night tumbles down
when the last stars are driven off
and even the morning star flees
before the sun and the day-sky
and I hear you coughing next to me
while the morning breeze
it’s still somewhat cold
and the beach
stretches out long,
white and fresh before us
and the waves kiss your feet
as it does every morning at this place
and we are madly-happy to be together.
Gert Strydom, 18 october 2013
As the silver moon at midnight
watched from a starry sky
like touching fingers her bright light
were tenderly passing us by,
the gentle wind tried to woo us asleep
and your eyes gleamed in your face
while into my heart age old feelings did creep
and passion through my body did race
in moments some hours were spent
with a kind of wonder in your gaze,
in our love your were sweet and innocent,
and also happy and as if in a daze
as our deepest heartfelt feelings we did express,
and for moments utter bliss we did possess.
Gert Strydom, 18 october 2013
As the silver moon at midnight
watched from a starry sky
like touching fingers her bright light
were tenderly passing us by,
the gentle wind tried to woo us asleep
and your eyes gleamed in your face
while into my heart age old feelings did creep
and passion through my body did race
in moments some hours were spent
with a kind of wonder in your gaze,
in our love your were sweet and innocent,
and also happy and as if in a daze
as our deepest heartfelt feelings we did express,
and for moments utter bliss we did possess.
Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013
Your words do tear me to pieces
and I wonder how such things come from your mouth?
I have disguised my bitter pain from you
and too many times I had to swallow away my own humanity.
Everything that I can I have pressed into our love
and at times my own will have been almost mute,
while I hoped for love to flower again
but by force you have twisted my life around
and now I know that nothing can melt the ice in your glacier-heart
not even my blood, the sun or whatever my love does
and it’s as if you are a part of an ice-age
but maybe you are tuned to your own ways and things,
do prefer this cold season above spring and summer
and at times six months of darkness.
Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013
Your words do tear me to pieces
and I wonder how such things come from your mouth?
I have disguised my bitter pain from you
and too many times I had to swallow away my own humanity.
Everything that I can I have pressed into our love
and at times my own will have been almost mute,
while I hoped for love to flower again
but by force you have twisted my life around
and now I know that nothing can melt the ice in your glacier-heart
not even my blood, the sun or whatever my love does
and it’s as if you are a part of an ice-age
but maybe you are tuned to your own ways and things,
do prefer this cold season above spring and summer
and at times six months of darkness.
Gert Strydom, 17 october 2013
When life keeps folding in on you
and half scared off you look at the whole world
where without understanding it’s hostile against you
and like a hungry fox you do keep at a distance
with a kind of unrest burning in you
as if every hand and tooth
wants to devour you
while you leave bloody tracks in the sand
and you do hear your own small cries
when you become unemployed
just before your days of old age
and aliens gather like vultures around you
and against this kind of madness
you are totally mute.
Gert Strydom, 16 october 2013
You are well-known to the tips of my fingers
and in the evenings when I lie right against you,
when the moon whispers secret things to the night
the being together becomes a great adventure
and then I am shaking.
When blood rushes through my veins,
your heart beat out love codes against my hand
then I notice the small things of you,
when your are at home in my arms
and against me all night long.
With the softness of your supple back,
the inter-twisting of leg over leg
we do lie together as one
and I feel the hot air
when your breath comes against my cheek,
when you are embracing me right through the night
and against me your skin is hot and soft
but somewhere at a time
we turn away from each other.
When words become bloodless
we do not even have to talk
when it’s raining outside in the dark street
as love has got its own meanings
and its own way of saying things
but when I do wake up
you are right against me
when it’s as if the whole day is only waiting
for the last magic of the night
and you smell like a spring garden full of new flowers
before the night disintegrates before the bright sun.
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