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Gert Strydom, 25 january 2012
On the hunt (ABCEDARIAN)
A big cat darts energetically forward,
growls hungry, ignores juicy kangaroos,
lengthens mighty necessary obscure paces,
quietly rushes sneaking towards uncommon,
velvet, whinnying, zealous, yawning zebras.
Gert Strydom, 24 january 2012
Fishing for Snoek (Un-wreath sonnet)
Somewhat slightly the shore, the lights ebb away
waves toss and play while the moon shines brightly
in darkness nightly the stars glitter over Table Bay
and the wind is blown only somewhat lightly.
Without mistake the boat furrows, up and down
holding its own spreads some foam in its wake,
in I take the vastness of great Cape Town,
God we trust; the sea lies flat as a lake
and its night, the swells are easier on us
like some dust hangs the early grey twilight,
it’s a sight deck-boards filled like a bus
and thus lines sing into the last of night
the boat is bright green with apparatus
going into action up to daylight.
[Reference: Barracouta is known as Snoek in South Africa.]
Gert Strydom, 24 january 2012
Drip (wreath sonnet)
A pipe is pinned into the body
in a melody of drops from a sack
life is black, like an unknown rhapsody
soldiers embody a secret attack
turn back infection drop by tiny drop
to stop pain, juices flow into the vein,
resistance turns life back to its top
tiny things hop to simply help restrain
fighting hard with the right antibiotics
doing some antics to claim victory
and transitory with some grand dynamics
the tactics work without any setback
you feel slack want to be in the tropics
with strange physics the illness is history.
Gert Strydom, 24 january 2012
The farewell of Aeneas from Dido
There is some confession, outside the sea foams,
he feels comfortable with Dido where there is rest,
he feels no pain; the waves want to carry him along
there is no heartache, the sweet bond
still exists in the core of his heart;
no other women has been so dear,
she is in the night, the starless darkness
where he loves her until the morning starts.
He stands still for a moment; he has to sail with the tide,
he cannot stay, torn he has to go on;
time lingers, minutes drags along like hours
when he later becomes small on the stern,
his existence is shaken with cutting pain,
his eyes follow the bring orbit of the stars.
Gert Strydom, 23 january 2012
We live, work and play (roundelay)
In life people play their own kind of games
call each other dear or some hurting names
and the world to its very final end
is in a way that no one can ever mend.
We live, work and sometimes joyfully play
right through the year each and every day
and secretively our own lives do bend,
is in a way that no one can ever mend.
Still we want to be honest and quite true
in all the small things that we daily do
but self centred are the time we do spend;
is in a way that no one can ever mend.
Gert Strydom, 23 january 2012
He is caught in time
(after Mandi Engelbrecht)
The faces around him is a confusing sea
of unknown people for whom he does not care
and he keeps away from pleasure and enjoyment;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
No beautiful girl catches his eyes
and he is afraid for all of life,
people on the street are strange and silly;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
One dark night his wife left him,
talked cheerfully about her new lover,
took everything along even the last flower vase,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God;
she told the whole world that he whores around,
that he peeps at other women,
that he keeps no Godly command,
he does not anymore know his Bible or God;
at the holy church he lost his job
when more and more people heard the gossip story,
he scolds himself that he is very stupid,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
His whole life is broken into pieces,
around him there is only confusing impressions,
it’s as if all his friends now are mocking him,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
He locks himself in his inner room
opens for nobody that knocks on the outside,
he finds no other work opportunity,
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
During the night he is single, almost a monk
and he lives from dark moment to moment
is caught in time, feels dirty and rotten;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
There is another world in his poems,
in memories wandering, searching faces
and dreams of some deliverance are somewhat silly;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
He plants African marigolds, roses and jasmine;
feels the earth in his hands and too much pain,
he is broken and almost bankrupt;
he does not anymore understand his Bible or God.
[Reference: “Speel vir tyd” (“Playing for time”) by Mandi Engelbrecht.]
Gert Strydom, 23 january 2012
The real depths of love we do not know (roundelay)
In the morning we are awakening
to the rising sun as a shining thing,
during the year seasons come and they go;
while the real depths of love we do not know.
From a baby’s first inquiring small cry,
until the very day that we do die
endlessly rivers to the sea do flow;
while the real depths of love we do not know.
From the very act of our own creation
to sin our parents had an invitation
and by his own death God did his love show,
while the real depths of love we do not know.
We teach each child, our own daughter and son,
the principles of love until we are gone,
while the wind eternally dies and blow;
while the real depths of love we do not know.
Gert Strydom, 20 january 2012
The nude swim (rondine)
We both lost our loneliness completely
as we were drifting extremely nude,
touching lips was only the prelude
as we were drifting in the endless sea
in each other we found tranquillity,
while a negative kind of attitude
we both lost.
From all kinds of previous bonds we were free,
together some business we did conclude
but our emotions were more than gratitude,
our feelings and our sensibility,
we both lost…
Gert Strydom, 20 january 2012
When moment synchronizes with moment
When moment synchronizes with moment
when our movements gets a own character
we cannot stop the intimate fire,
our passion comes blazing, intimate and free;
it falls like spring rain on the earth,
then there is something binding between us,
we are in a world away from the aching.
Gert Strydom, 20 january 2012
When I love my worlds starts to stagger
When I love my worlds starts to stagger,
when your depths enclose me shuddering
then I want to go deeper, do not want to escape,
when I love my worlds starts to stagger
when your depths enclose me shuddering
all other things suddenly want to fade,
when I suddenly dare to enter a new universe,
when your depths enclose me shuddering
all other things suddenly want to fade,
I do not worry about persons drowning,
if meteorites fall upon the earth,
all other things suddenly want to fade,
I do not worry about persons drowning,
when I love my worlds starts to stagger
I find myself in another outside world
I do not worry about persons drowning,
when I love my worlds starts to stagger
when your depths enclose me shuddering
then I want to go deeper, do not want to escape,
when I love my worlds starts to stagger.
Latest comments:
13 october 2024
jeśli tylko
tak się zawsze mówiło :)
13 october 2024
artystowski..
13 october 2024
tak, to jest ten konkret (jeden widz) którego
13 october 2024
violetta
Fajne bytowania:)
13 october 2024
Imieniny Kota:)
13 october 2024
Belamonte/Senograsta
Jedna pani śpiewała Arię z Carmen tylko dla
13 october 2024
Jaga
taniec pingwina na szkle...
13 october 2024
klaskanie jedną ręką
12 october 2024
Weronika
Dialog jednej osoby.
12 october 2024
no, też tak mam, nie wiem co się porobiło,
12 october 2024
prawie wszystkie wiersze są o przyrodzie
12 october 2024
tyle się o niej mówi, a dziwi, że przyszła..
13 october 2024
wiesiek
13 october 2024
Satish Verma
12 october 2024
wiesiek
12 october 2024
Satish Verma
11 october 2024
wiesiek
11 october 2024
Satish Verma
10 october 2024
wiesiek
10 october 2024
Jaga
10 october 2024
Eva T.
10 october 2024
Satish Verma