Gert Strydom, 5 may 2016
With hunger in your eyes
you did look for a moment at me
with a gaze that does not recede before anyone’s
as if from me
or from someone else you would find help,
as if I had to hear you begging voice
and you did tremble in the cold wind
and somewhere you did loose your own humanity
and again
you wanted food from me
where you were wandering helpless between the shops
and I did not know what to tell you
as life did also turn its back on me
and I did draw the old jacket tighter against my body.
Gert Strydom, 4 may 2016
Please do forgive all the sin that I have done,
even that heart-held unmentioned one
and all of the vain and evil thoughts, which came before
of which the effects do in the lives of others still run
Please do forgive the sin which fortune for me has won,
also the ones that I in my heart of hearts do shun,
where in innocence I took They name in vain
and those when out of control I do spun
and all the thoughts that were impure and many more
of which your just record does keep score
and all of the times that I have caused pain,
brought trouble to another’s door.
I know that You do sin utterly deplore,
but please take me safely to heaven’s far off shore.
Gert Strydom, 3 may 2016
Near Grootfontein at Hoba West
in Namibia
I saw the fifty-five ton rock lie imbedded
into the earth
where as a fireball it fell from the sky.
That burning piece of iron rock,
could have fallen upon my town Springs,
could have wiped my suburb,
my home into the naught,
like a nuclear device dropping from up high,
in bolide form could have exploded
in blue thunder, could have vaporized
everything in the vicinity
including me, my dogs, my cats
and neighbours too.
Gert Strydom, 29 april 2016
When I do consider how my time is spent,
where my emotions and deeds from You I cannot hide
while Your love and goodwill does go far and wide,
in work for others without pay at times I am bent
and whatever I do, You are always present
but at times it feels as if you do me chide
while what I am and am about cannot be denied
and humbly I ask that You do my thoughts of doubt prevent
as Your love, Your goodwill and presence I do constantly need
and but foul and deplorable are my efforts at best
where I am following in a sinful mortal state
trying in my devotions to catch some speed
but each day rushes past without a moment of rest
while almost intolerable people do on me wait.
Gert Strydom, 28 april 2016
I see him doing carpentry,
smoothing a piece of hard wood with a plane,
clamped on a big old vice
before cutting it, sawing it off
to the right length
and there were fire in his big blue eyes,
a burning intensity and integrity in them.
The smell of glue and sawn wood
tell tale from his tool shed,
with always a instrument,
sometimes a pencil, a hammer, a saw
in his big calloused hands
and a tenderness, compassion, love
in the eyes that looked at me.
He was a man who drew up plans
and build a big church
with his bare hands,
without charging for his labour
who knew the exact amount
of bricks, bags of cement,
lintels and whatever
went into a building or house
just by looking at the blueprints
and who could immediately
tell you the cost
almost to the last cent
and his workplace was tidy,
with everything in its place
and my grandpa was gigantic to me,
until one day
that a huge door
at a building came loose
and fell on him thundering
cutting his internal organs,
causing internal bleeding
and at the time
the doctors could do nothing for him
and he was an educated man
who swore that no child of him,
would have to be an artisan,
would have to work with his hands
like himself,
who wanted each and everyone
to get a proper education
at university
and have a decent job
and a great life.
Gert Strydom, 27 april 2016
When the two of us met
there was happiness and tears
and it was if our destiny was set
for many great coming years
sparkling were our eyes and we were bold
with a strange kind of fire in every kiss
and our feelings were new and old
in a unknown kind of bliss
the brightness of the morning
touched the specks of dew on your brow
when sadness came without warning
of the moments that we do feel now
when our true feelings are unspoken
and day upon day suddenly came
where apart in longing we are broken
and for weeks the days remained the same
while time with you I do covet
and the sound of your voice is still in my ear
while the feeling between us I cannot forget
and to me you are still dear.
Gert Strydom, 26 april 2016
Forever the wandering ghost
of that meddling interfering missionary John Phillip
is haunting, and he is bellicose
and in the highest ears he again lets his words slip
and once again he acts the same
as at Slagtersnek where rebellious farmers did hang high
(were hanged again when the ropes broke)
and once more he slanders the Afrikaner’s name,
while innocently he tells lie upon lie
and here and there a funny joke.
Gert Strydom, 25 april 2016
On Pretoria (Italian sonnet)
I have not seen a city more fair
than Pretoria during spring
when on every street Jacaranda trees are flowering
and the scent of those flowers is in the air
and you might not find this kind of beauty anywhere
but in Pretoria where the faces of people are smiling
and to live in Pretoria during this time feels exciting
when any other city seems stripped, naked and bare.
From the outer hillocks history does its marvels display
where monuments rise as a token to existence
and churches, hero acres, offices and theaters lie
in the hazy beauty of the new day
while the people live their lives with persistence
as the days leap into years as they pass by.
Oor Pretoria
Ek het nie ‘n mooier stad gesien
as Pretoria in die lente
as Jakaranda bome op elke straat blom
en die geur van daardie blomme in die lug is
en dié soort prag sal mens nêrens anders vind
as in Pretoria met glimlagte op haar mense se gesigte
en om gedurende dié tyd in Pretoria te wees maak mens opgewonde
as elke ander stad gestroop, naak en leeg lyk.
Van die buitenste heuwels vertoon die geskiedenis wonders
waar monumente rys as ‘n teken van bestaan
en kerke, heldeakkers, kantore en teaters lê
in die wasige skoonheid van die nuwe dag
waar mense leef met volharding
as dae na jare spring soos wat hulle verby gaan.
Gert Strydom, 24 april 2016
Returning to my Pretoria,
is like to stepping into a place
that is my own,
where I can feel
my own life beating,
where days run into remembrance
and passion does stretch almost endlessly back,
where life does take me back
to a place full of promises,
where flowering trees
does welcome me
as if that place stays part of my life.
Gert Strydom, 22 april 2016
Some people followed your dream in your day
but to others it brought pain and death, as they died,
in war and concentration camps while you were full of pride
and for deliverance women and children did pray
while some saw you as gay, but not only in the happy way,
while roughshod you did over any opposition ride:
beware them that was not on you or your queen’s side
as with the lives of nations you did play
and where you are in eternal rest
the judgement of God will at a time be on you
as only He does the ways of nations ordain
your deeds, your life is forgotten at best,
as only to your own pocket you were really true
and to the innocent you brought poverty and pain.
[Reference: “The burial 1902” by Rudyard Kipling.]
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