Gert Strydom, 25 lipca 2016
At night I have the strangest dream
where all of my hope is swept away
but everything is not how it does seem.
At night I have the strangest dream
but in love you do vow and deem
to love me past every night and day
but at night I have the strangest dream
where all of my hope is swept away
Gert Strydom, 24 lipca 2016
(in answer to Patrick Cullinan)
At early morning dawn
eighteen big busses appear
some with Putco, Morning Star
and others with Amagolang signs on them
and on their top roof racks.
Everything is loaded from blankets,
wheelbarrows, chicken coops to primus stoves.
Durban’s South beach, North Beach
and Country Club
are packed with a throng
of black tourists everywhere,
who unclothe right there in public
and swim in all colours of underpants,
in white, cream and pink bras and panties
with black nipples and private parts
shining through when wet
and some old black grannies fill bottles
with sea water and a bit of sand
believing that it’s good medicine
while some chickens
in a great tumult of noise
are brought out of a cage,
are beheaded with a shining axe,
are plucked and on tent poles
spit fried on the beach.
Some men and boys
pull their pants down
and urinate near to a water tap
while others wait in line
at the toilets which are filled
past capacity.
[Reference: “The beach, the evening” by Patrick Cullinan.]
Gert Strydom, 22 lipca 2016
Where star systems do disappear in the nought,
far away from our earth’s atmosphere
where nebulas, planets and stars shine
and dark holes absorbs everything near,
even past the burning jaws of hell
and where space does collapse into the abyss,
where solar systems form and get life
the omnipotent Lord God builds his fortress and His stronghold
and time, distance and space do make no difference to Him
when He comes to true salvation in the depth of distress
and His sovereign holy omnipotent righteous will
commands Armageddon and the jaws of death,
does order the spark that becomes thunder, the drops of rain
where on His judgement-seat He does judge and bless everything.
Gert Strydom, 21 lipca 2016
(After A. G. Visser)
Come in the spring and see my flower garden
when suddenly after the winter it bursts out in beauty,
when the roses do bud and later start flowering,
when the irises astound with all of their colours
and furtively morning glories trumpet forth the sun.
Come in the forenoon when a swarm of doves coo,
rejoice and flaunt and sing love songs to deep in the night
and daylilies open their cups yellow, orange and dark-red,
when the tiger lilies and gladiolas awaken after the winter
and the afternoon-ladies do peep at the sun.
Come in the afternoon when the jasmine, lavender and gardenia
carry their fragrances as they did in the early morning,
when the geraniums are full of flowers right up to winter
and the rain lilies flower in the purest white,
when the evening flower brings magic to the sultry nights.
Come at dusk when the sun sets over the hillocks,
when some flowers wait upon the arrival of the moon,
then find the magic that twilight brings
when the weaver, redbreast and sparrow do sing love songs
and you are surrounded by beauty from everywhere.
Come when the moon rises red and later becomes silver-white
when in longing I yearn to have you close
that you my darling can experience the magic of each flower cup
before they wither away with the course of time
and I can show you the loveliest of our flowers.
Come let us together experience the colours and fragrances
and in love and happiness visit and laugh
before the summer of our lives come to a end,
past the last years of old age
where only in thoughts we will have a piece of this paradise.
[Reference: “Rosa Rosarum” by A. G. Visser.]
Gert Strydom, 21 lipca 2016
To where blankets hang during the afternoons
on the balconies of flats
to catch the last afternoon sun
a whole impi does return at nightfall
from where they daily sit in offices
behind desks,
of the new civil service the top product
with pens that scribble, scratch and screech on papers
and they make as if they are very busy,
do send citizens continually round and about
with there attention focused on the clock on the wall
and at five a clock they rush out in a throng,
together with each other in a ancient war dance
and before the sun sets they sing at the nearest bar
united in a wide semicircle
that makes the horns of the bull
while they manoeuvre and play,
do bet money on soccer teams
and just for pure fun
do shake dice and throw them out to roll.
Gert Strydom, 20 lipca 2016
This morning the sky glitters blue
as if it is made
from lapis lazuli
with a deep azure colour
and I do wonder
to where the grey clouds of last night is gone
but the wind
that had blown them away
is also missing
and the fragrance of flowers
hangs sweet in the air
and it seems
as if it is going to be a nice hot day.
Gert Strydom, 19 lipca 2016
(in answer to Yehuda Amichai)
You must not show any fear,
and have to have a tan
even if not using
the malaria tablets
that causes you to burn spots
(which I take anyway),
scared of fever, weakness
and death that comes without it.
You must not show weakness
and I am showering
in a hedged off shelter
pulling the string
from a bagged bottle,
being afraid that all of the country,
will wash away into the dark.
In the daytime I walk patrols with special force soldiers,
sometimes are flown in by chopper in for hot pursuit
on enemy tracks,
some nights are dropped by parachute from very high,
but tonight while the moon is rising big and white,
huge enough to inspect
the dark ditches, the valleys in it
I am showering in the middle of nowhere
in a small military base
and after the battle I came crashing down,
crashing down in myself,
start retching,
shaking without anyone noticing
but are still dedicated to staying alive
and people think of it
as the ordinary soldier thing.
[Reference: “You Mustn't Show Weakness” by Yehuda Amichai.]
Gert Strydom, 18 lipca 2016
My God, who does have comprehension
for each thought, for every thing
that goes through my head,
who attentive like a father does see
how I cry and at times do sing
I ask you, where I now stand at a crossroad,
where in brokenness I do wander away from your law
that softly you will lead me back to the right way
and if you have to admonish me at times with love,
that you will draw me nearer even if I am contaminated by darkness
and will bring me to a way out (past every earthly restriction)
that with love you will wrap your arms around me
and where at times I do fall
that you will still straighten my ways
and your attentive glance will remain upon me
although you are at the other side of the universe,
that you will touch my heart and my desires
so that at a time I will also find rest
in a world where there is constantly conflict and discord.
Gert Strydom, 17 lipca 2016
When uncle Henry
(who had been my father in law at the time)
did beat the last retreat
on the golf course
Riana & I had to hurry
to Barberton to mother in law
to assist with the funeral
and Riana & I had to constantly wash the dishes
and Riana & I had to prepare
food and refreshments
for the horde of guests
that came to the funeral,
we had to help with the funeral letter,
go along to the veterinarian
with the beloved dog of the deceased
and I had to dig a grave for that poor animal
as for that old madam
(who had been my mother in law)
the poor dog had to be buried as well
on the day that I helped to carry her husband’s coffin
to his grave.
Gert Strydom, 15 lipca 2016
When the early morning rays
captured the dawn sky
and it seemed
as if it is going to be another hot day
and the sun was changing from red to white
while trees did push up their fingers into the blue,
while the smell of flowers
did hang in a cloak around you
you did sit with me
and your eyes did distribute many kisses.
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